Category Archives: Blog

This is where all my blog posts go, so all the latest news on what I’m doing or where I’m going will be posted in this category. This will also be the parent category for VLOGs and ON THE MOVE posts.

Let’s talk about something scary…

I know what you’re thinking; Adderson hates scary things like clowns, spiders and Lindsey Lohan but today I want to talk to you about something that is even more scarier than all of these things put together when you’re twenty years old and that my friends is this: The future.

I don’t know why or even how it came to be but I’ve been thinking about the future quite a lot recently and a chat with a good friend of mine has pushed me over the edge to blog about it. Now, the future is great. Why? Well, knowing you have a future means that there is still faith and love and beauty in life. Working towards a future which you can share with someone more so. It is important that you are able to think and plan for the future but there is also a downside to knowing the future is out there. Some may say that the fact you don’t know what the future holds is a bad thing even though I relish this because, well, life’s a little more fun when you don’t know everything there is to know about everything. But I think the worst thing I find about the future is the possibility of having no one to share it with or being alone and thus the scary things begin to creep out.

“When I have children.”


“When I get married.”

For a guy at twenty it seems a little far-fetched but then the more you think about the situation; you begin to realise the necessity of making these plans and that they are essential. Now, I’m not talking like concrete plans. I’m not saying you need to choose someone and that’s all you’ve got. You know what I mean right? Those fuckwits who need to pipe the fuck down because they’ve only been going out for a week and all over Facebook, Twitter and whatever else social media they’re using Bob’s status reads something like: “Sally’s going to be the Mother of my children” and Sally’s status says something like : “Me and Bob will be married by this time next year.” And the rest of the world, which is somewhat rational and grown up looks at them and replies: “No fuckwits. Just no.”

I mean that when you plan you need to set yourself deadlines. even though you may never abide by these deadlines because, well, dudes are dudes and men in general wish to hang on to that slither of youth they once had even when they’re in a care home needing assistance to wipe their own arse. So, for example, I want to have kids when I am twenty-five years old and be married before I’m 30. Now, there are the deadlines but see what else I did there. Yep, that’s right. I played it safe. I used the safety net which is ambiguity. Because even though we can plan for the future as I’ve already said, nothing is already set in stone and having that ambiguous planning safety net is useful when… you know… BAD THINGS HAPPEN! I may get a girl pregnant before I marry them and then marry them afterwards, I may not. You have to be prepared for this sort of stuff to happen in the future. If everything was plain sailing, there would be no failures and no success. No victories or defeats. So, the best option is to just be adaptable.

And I know what some of you are thinking whilst you read this. You’re probably thinking that this is a little pessimistic. That this doesn’t paint a bright picture of the future. Yet, look at it this way. I’ve been going out with my girlfriend Jennifer for three years this April 10th. Three years. It’s been hell and heaven all wrapped into one but no matter how much I love her now I cannot and will not guarentee her existence in my life forever. She’s lovely. But with such an unknown future ahead of us, who knows what could happen in the next year, month, week, day, hour, minute or even second? I can imagine my future with Jen, I really can and I smile when i do because that security is lovely but if Jen was to ever kick me to the curb because of say… she couldn’t take my shit any more  It doesn’t mean that I will never find happiness elsewhere. I will feel bad for a long time, I mean three years, our apparent “glory years” are a lot to seemingly waste on one person. But eventually, hopefully I’d be able to rise above it and move on long after she has.

So, what I’m trying to say is this: Yes, the future is scary and mysterious and uncertain but you can prepare for it in some small way. You just can’t have your cake and eat it though because how you are now is most likely not what you’ll be when the time comes.


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For a friend

This is my friend and also my friend Mat’s Brother, Michael. he’s a good kid and hoping to get into performance and stuff and he asked me to share this with you because, well, because. I hope all goes well for him in the future.

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I’m back and you know I can blog!

Hello there, it’s been a while. People whom know me know that I do this a lot, the whole leave the blog for ages and randomly come back and start getting myself in order. It’s just a habit I suppose and old habits die hard.  But I’m quite glad I’m back if I have to be honest, I’ve never really forgotten about the blog, I’ve just been having a little bit of an existential crisis. Ever since my last blog post about the knockdown and how it shook my confidence; nothing really got better. Nope. Not at all, in fact it got a lot worse as I began thinking about quitting University and writing in general anyway. I’m still not really sure what it was that caused me to fall into such a dark and bitter place but… well, I’m out of it now and that is what matters. I owe a few people huge amounts of thanks after their support helped me get back on my feet. But that’s for me and them to know. For now, I’m just going to talk about where I’ve been and what I’ve got planned for the Authorial’s near future.

So, let’s deal with the first question: Add, where have you been? I was surprised to see my inbox full of messages that said these sort of things. I had no real idea how much people enjoyed my few and far between posts but to those people whom messaged me, here is your answer: I really don’t know. I have been sat staring at my computer monitor for ours playing League of Legends I suppose, editing University work or maybe even just staring at the screen with no particular goals. But I have been here physically just not here mentally. My mind’s been all over the place, like I said, I’ve been in a dark place and writing hasn’t been something I’ve really wanted to do since falling into it. I hated it almost when I come to think, writing had become the bane of my existence and the annoying thing was that I was constantly surrounded by it. I had things to do, ideas I could see so vividly that I could touch them and friends urging me to do something other than sit around angry and depressed at my own lack of motivation. I tried everything but in my mind, I was stuck. Everything was shit and as a result, I was shit. Dark times. But finally things look they’re going my way. I’ve been very happy with the pieces I’ve submitted to university and my faith has been restored. So, it’s time to get my head off the floor and back in the clouds.

If that makes any sense…

So… Moving on, the second question: What now for the Authorial? Easy, more! More reviews! More prose! More poetry! More everything! Damn straight! The most exciting thing I’m working on at the moment though, is my as of yet unnamed Assassin’s Creed Fanfiction; I’m going along the same lines as I did with my old Halo: Prisoners of Reach fanfiction where I’ve asked my friends to submit profiles of characters loosely based on themselves and I’m going to write about their adventures. I remember the joy of having such colourful and diverse characters back on my old blog, so hopefully, this can get me going back in the right direction when it comes down to writing. And with my friend’s behind me, there’s no chance I could fail. Right?

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The Knockdown

Yesterday, I’m not going to lie; I had a terrible evening and took one for the team it seemed as I didn’t just get absolutely panned for my poetry but also got labelled as something that deeply offended me after a small miscommunication in one of my poems offended another poetry night non-performer. And it kind of worried me as I reflected on her comments and thought to myself: Is this really how people are going to see me?  I mean, it was hard to get up and perform in the first place, it always has been and unfortunately always will be. But for some reason the low scores and my apparent comment that lent rape “support” is something that’s really knocked my confidence a little bit.

I mean, it’s not what I meant and I didn’t mean to offend. It was a slam and I slammed and well, I was angry a little bit; that the misconception was at the time, that Uni of girls just always seemed to get raped by Hallam guys or that no matter how much I go on to achieve in life: I’ll be from Hallam. And that will forever go against me. Which is sad because some of the smartest and most lovely people I have ever met have now been tarred with the same polytechnic stigma that I myself have been subject to a little. My parents, will never understand because they were never forced to sit in the corner of a junior school class and made out unable to read. Or that I just didn’t really seem to be going anywhere. And it makes me red in the face with anger to know that there are just some people out there, somewhere and for some reason seeing it as funny to go pick on the little guy when there are more important and pressing issues to talk about. I get angry. We all do and I suppose in all, I learnt the line of where I can and cannot take my poetry but still…

Accusing me of supporting rape and the lowest score of the night?


I must have really turded up and with these two things and how I feel in the moment, I’m coming real close to giving up poetry and the performance side of things to instead keep up my efforts with the other parts of my course which I seem to be falling behind in too. I don’t know if it was the fact I hadn’t written all summer or whether or not I was rushed to produce a poem, but I am largely uninspired and rather tired all the time. I feel so out of shape it is unreal and even as I write this now, I can feel the once great raw talent of my mind peel away and look back and realise I’ve kind of written a poetic prose verse about how I’ve been knocked down by two things or maybe even three.

First: We lost the slam by 0.19. If  I had just got a bigger score. We could have at least pushed the tie.

Second: I got really low scores when I tried really hard to put the poem together in a short amount of time. I can either use this as a time to choose a path or better yet try to use it as a humbling experience. I know its only opinion but it was a popular opinion; y’know? When it’s all against one then I don’t see how I can really justify myself. I did shit. Now is a time to either work, or give up on it unfortunately. I’m not sure as to what’s a good idea or not at the moment; it’s still weighing quite heavy on my heart that I may, if this melancholy continues, have to give up an art I have come to love. What happens, happens though. Am I right?

Thirdly: Who supports rape? Really? And I know you can cup my face and ask me to look at you in a really annoying patronising way and ask if I know its alright but you know what? It isn’t. It never has been, I stumbled because I was trying too hard and I got crossed wires and I meant to say something completely different, especially considering the whole passage [in context] was about the fact of not having sex at all… So, I can see where they’re coming from. I knew what I meant. But to come up to me with a patronising toff voice after I’ve just had a shit time is a little annoying. I know it’s ‘a political issue’ but we’re talking morality here and if you have any sense of morale compass at all; you will know that there is no supporting or justifying an act that is so evil as rape in itself. Taking control of someone’s very being away from them is wrong. No means no. So hopefully, the message rings clear that I am very much against any type of sexual, physical or even psychological abuse. People deserve the best in life. And that is all I will ever ask of them is to go out and live the best life they can because what else is there to do?

I know this may sound a little rant-ish and a bit weird to randomly come on and blog about after my silence but these things have deeply affected me to the point where I may not perform again for the longest time. Or even ever. Even with the support of people I deeply admired and hold in high regard, their words of encouragement cannot really remove the seemingly growing black spot that its creeping its inky self throughout my heart. I feel different. I feel changed. And if I’m losing my faith in poetry and the written word, well, the end is not far off at all…

My confidence has really been shaken and with that being an apparently huge part of why people like me, I don’t know if things are really going to be the same after this.

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A reflection on my summer…

When people ask me what I did this summer, I’m really not sure as to what it is I’ll actually say. I mean, I know I’m going to go back to University and my friends will probably tell me all about the amazing summer they had doing cool things like skiing or going on holiday or maybe going to work.

They’ll say all this, whilst I now realising my summer is over have finally come to terms with the fact that for the last three months due to both lack of funds and lack of motivation have just coasted through my summer holidays enough to avoid boredom. I mean, when I look back the early morning of the date I go back, I did nothing really too interesting. I just did. I lived. I loved. I just was. I don’t know why but in this summer time I have had no motivation to write but instead wanted to feverishly grind my way into becoming Pokemon league champion or holding out with my dad against a horde of angry terrorists.

Apart from that, the occasional walk or read has been enough for me between any other real ‘extremes’ in change such as having to go see my mother to fix our somewhat tempestuous relationship or having to house-sit and look after a few cats. Even my birthday was seemingly coasted through on my part. It all just happened and where some points seemed to last forever some were as fleeting as a thunderclap.

I’m honestly not sure whether or not it was the fact me and my mum fell out during my time at Uni that sealed my seemingly slumber like existential fate. I found my self living in Kettering, something I hadn’t planned for without transport and money. I couldn’t really get anywhere and unable to get a job could not really fix the situation. I don’t regret being here though. I’ve done some good stuff whilst I was here: I helped my nan out as best I could (I.e when she’d let me); seen and aided my dad slowly out of his depression (even if at a slower pace than I was wanting to); and finally, I managed to fix what I had deemed at one stage unfixable and that was the relationship with my mother. It wasn’t easy to do but I think both of us have learnt from the experience a little.

Now these things, although trivial have made me do a few more things like talk and meet people once again; made me lose my temper and even cry. I also learnt some valuable lessons along the way about family and myself. I have changed since going to Uni, there is no denying that and returning from Uni has been hard on me; I feel like sometimes I’m balancing on two ever drifting stones and the more these two lives drift apart, the sooner I’m going to take a dip and be swallowed up by this imaginary river both places reside in my mind. Even if I felt slightly lost and alone, my family was there to support me and that was what was important during the adventure.

Even though I’ve had what some will call a boring summer. I think it may have been one of the best yet in helping me grow and develop as a person.

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It seems whenever I do something wrong, it’s almost cataclysmic.

We all make mistakes. People say that it’s because we’re only human. However, sometimes I think I must be superhuman; everybody makes mistakes I know but sometimes it just seems as though,  every time I make a mistake it’s somewhat end of the world like.

For example, yesterday. Yesterday I was supposed to be backing up my laptop onto the main home PC; I looked through my files and thought to myself that I had a hell of a load of .exe files. Now, these files are useful for my computer because well, they install programs but to back up it seemed pretty stupid. Why back-up a file which you could easily get right? So, I thought to not take up so much space on the hard drive of the main computer I’d delete the .exe files; I was trying to be considerate. But it didn’t quite work out the way I wanted it to. In fact, it went a whole lot worse…

Whilst highlighting the seemingly millions of .exe files; I accidentally highlighted a file that contained my creative writing folder inside it. Now, I know what you’re all thinking at this point, well surely you had back ups right? The simple answer would be, no. No I didn’t. Which was stupid but you know what? I never thought I would need to.  because I loved my work and thought I’d be more careful with it but obviously, that’s not the case. I deleted the folder and try hard as I might to get it back, it seems as though it’ll never be recovered from the fragments of data still around on the disk. I could probably compile about 60% of my work through physical and digital copies on the internet probably.  I think the thing that gets me most is this sort of disaster follows me around. If I break a bowl, it’s one of a kind. If I fail my driving test,  I fail it 10 seconds away from the test centre and passing. It just seems as though, when I think about it, the mistake factory are working way too hard in my department sometimes. Then again we all feel that way sometimes. We want to scream at our luck sometimes and wish they’d hand some of the bad stuff over to someone else for once. It’s true. I think I never thought about it until I messed up in this way.

My writing, if anything, is one of the most precious things I have. it’s what I strive to do when I roll out of bed in the morning; it’s the thing that keeps me awake at night as star ships and fairy princesses run through my mind; and it’s one of the things that I really put myself out there with. Sure I beat myself  up about my writing but I always tried to be careful with it and now… It’s pretty much gone. Which is sad.

However, there’s two ways I can see this disaster. Two ways in which I can move forward.

The first way is, if I want to, is to let the past shackle me down. Let myself think that I will never be as good as those lost files which in a way will destroy me when you think about it because if I think I’ve already hit my peak well, what else is there to aim for?  Nothing. Which is sad, may as well hang up my thinking cap if that’s the case.


Option two,  I could move on. Get some new ideas and make a new generation of work. I wouldn’t complete forget my old work, no I’d never do that and I’d definitely try and compile as much of it as I could. However, I wouldn’t let it run my life. I’d start a fresh do something different, use some new ideas. It’d be pretty cool.

I suppose, that’s what my freaky dream was trying to tell me. After a mad dash to try and recover the work and slugging through website after website with programs and helpful but not so helpful hints as how to recover data. I finally crashed out at like 5.00am when all hope seemed to run dry. This is when loads of weird fever dream like visions started coming to me. It was odd. There were a few, all fragmented and jumbled up in sporadic bursts. The first was unimportant, something about me and my friend Will Jeff Banks. My bank card was involved too. Something about every time I put my card in the machine it came out in pieces and I kept having to put those pieces together and feed it back into the machine. I have no idea why, it was odd. Money worries? Maybe but that wasn’t even the weirdest of these episodes of my dream life…

The weirdest thing found me in the Riverside Bar in Sheffield. Somewhere I love actually, spot light on me and black book in hand. I was reading,  something. I’m not 100% sure. But I was definitely reading something but then people started asking me forr some of the stuff that had been deleted. Stuff I hadn’t even shown my girlfriend, who I actually show a lot of my work.  I panicked when people started standing, shouting and I kind of just stopped.  I didn’t know what to say or do and it made me wonder…

Had I reached my peak?

I woke up in a cold seat by then and rubbed my face, what was I going to do? I messed up, yes. But is it worth it? Is it worth giving up on writing? No way. I just need someone to take my bad luck from em. because being Superhuman by making epic mistakes is not as epic as being Spiderman.


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After a Week without my phone

So, how did I manage to end up not having my phone for a week?
That’s a funny story actually, one that is definitely worth telling before I talk about what I learnt about myself during my phoneless week; I suppose if anything this is a fable, a cautionary tale to which I hope you all take heed and learn from.
So, okay on the 8th of June I was set to come back to Sheffield in order to pack my life away once again so I can move out of my student accomodation and back to the sunny climes of Northamptonshire. Which, in itself should be fun, right? With the irony and all but yeah, so I ordered a taxi from my Nan’s house in the lovely town of Kettering and made my way to the train station.
It was during this time me and Jen kept looking at our phones to see if we were going to get to the train on time and all sorts. Phones in general were coming in and out of pockets faster than a slut in her underpants. And this is where the story gets interesting, so bear with me…
So, we get out of the Taxi, pay the guy (whom we can hardly understand as he tries desperately to communicate) and get in the station. We found out our train was delayed which is a pain in the ass but no biggie, I mean, it gave us more time for nostalgia. Which if anything, is always nice before you get cooped up on a train for two hours.
So we go to platform, wait patiently and then it’s announced that our train has changed platforms. Which then makes us shimmy along to the newly assigned platform, at which I shoved my hand deep into my pockets and realised that I don’t have my phone…
Now, as all teenager, parents; actually, as I bet all people know, when you think you’ve lost your phone you kind of have this sort of mini heart attack but then eventually you find it and the crisis is averted. Well, I didn’t have that this time. This time I didn’t find my phone and the heart attack didn’t go away but went from mini to massive in a matter of seconds; our train was coming in, the lady over the station radio said so. So, everyone can imagine how I was, running around like a blue ass fly asking person after person if they’d seen a blackberry anywhere and my girlfriend ringing it on her fritzed out phone to no avail either. Angry I got on the train and continued trying to ring it when I could, half annoyed, half worried, all pissed off.
Then suddenly my girlfriend got a message on BBM saying ‘hello’. Now both of us were looking at each other trying to get through to our mysterious message sender. Was it a really dumb thief, boasting about their crime? Was it a good samaritan, trying to reunite me with Berty (my phone)? I had to know, so I snatched my girlfriend’s phone from the table and called my phone hoping to God that we wouldn’t lose signal and the anonymous on the other end would pick up.
I pretty much recognised the voice straight away, it was one I’d tried to decipher earlier. It was the Taxi driver. Somewhere in the chaos of our journey to the station with all the panicking and worrying; my phone must have fallen out of my pocket. I also realised it was on loud, so every time I had rung it I’d probably scared the poor bastard to death as Bring Me the Horizon blasted out of the back of his Taxi at almost maximum ringing volume. But at least he had my phone and he was going to hand it in to the KLM Taxi office.
So, at our connecting station platform; I phoned to make sure that my phone Berty was safe and sound in the hands of a receptionist so I could get my Dad to go get him. They were really nice now that I think about it and if anything, I owe them a great deal because my ass would be grass without my phone.
So later that evening my Dad went and got the phone and my Nan sent it to me over the next weekend, near Father’s Day and I got it recorded delivery on the Tuesday pissing off the front desk to my apartment building due to the fact I didn’t sign one of the forms I should have because I’d forgotten completely. However soon Berty was home with me and that’s how I liked it.
Now, there’s the story and now for the observations of myself during the time in which I was Bertyless.
I realised that without my phone, I actually relied on it a hell of a lot more then I thought. I’m not even talking about the cool stuff like tweeting or using it to post on wordpress because even though I did miss that I still had that on my computer and was more jealous of people who could do that. It was the more mundane tasks like checking the time, which should be simple but because you don’t have a clock you rely on your phone which you now don’t have; or the calendar function which stops you trawling through pages and pages of an actual calendar; or the most annoying a calculator because spelling the word ‘boobs’ with numbers is nowhere near as fun when you have to dig your scientific calculator out from underneath mountains upon mountains of useless crap.
So, kids if I want you to take anything away from this post it’s that you rely on your phone far too much to do the little things; so don’t lose it.

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