Blog: How to kill an ear worm

I've been thinking and overthingking alot recently. Not the the point of it being a problem, but definitely to the point of it being a thing I should really deal with, like the trash that needs to be taken out, or the green things I should probably be eating instead of the large pizza shaped things that are so readily available and tasty.
And I had this thought today, the kind of thought that helps the other thoughts stand in an orderly row, to be satisfyingly knocked down like dominoes into something visually pleasing:

Ear worms.

I know how to deal with ear worms.

For those that dont know, or that use a different term for this thing, an ear worm is that song that gets stuck in your head. It's that tune that just plays over and over and over and over and over and over and...
yes, that. It's the thing that burrows its way into your mind and plays itself on repeat until it starts to make a living by eating its surroundings.
I've lost sleep to ear worms, I've lost concentration, until one day I figured out how to stop them.

(Point of order, as much as I did think this method up, there is little-to-no-chance I am the first to do so. I should also mention that as far as I know, I do not suffer from OCD or similar conditions that make thought spirals a legitimate health concern. But maybe, if you suffer from such things or not, this might help you, just as it helped me?)

Here's how it goes. You have this song in your head, stuck there, been there for days. It's so happy in your head that its started ordering matching curtains and throw pillows to brighten up the place.
How to get rid of it?
Imagine a room, and a few feet in front of you against the wall, is some manner of music box. It might be a cassete player, an ipod, or a radio. For me, I use a jukebox, the kind from the 50's, with the colourful curved top and the bright lights. (I dont know what that says about me, maybe that I'm old fashioned? Maybe I just like pretty lights.)
Walk up to the jukebox, the music gets louder as you close in. The music is coming from the jukebox itself. Now, change the channel. Put on another song, start flipping through the options, feel the press of the buttons and the shifting of whatever internal mechanims your box has. Make it as real in your mind as possible, and every time you press the 'next' button, think of a new song to overtake the old.
You may well get sick of that new song later, but you can always come back and keep mentally channel surfing until you find something you like.
It takes some practice, but I found it helped.

So with that in mind, here's the thought I had today.
Thought spirals are just earworms. They come from the same mind-speakers in the same imagined-jukebox in the same head as the songs. could they be dealt with the same way?
I wonder, if you're anxious about something, job, relationship, money, can you just...change the channel?
Can you just find another jukebox (or maybe its the same one?) and when you can't stop worrying about the rent thats due sometime in the future, or the deadline at work thats creeping ever closer, could you try instead pushing the button, and remembering that trip you took to that island a few years ago? Maybe the anxiety will come back later, but we could all do with a break once in a while.

It surely can't be that easy...
But...what if it is?

From the wrong time, the wrong place, but maybe the right hat,
-Alexander Hewitt

Poem - The voice behind your eye

The voice behind your eye
By Alexander Hewitt

Tis a story
That is true.
One so told
From me, to you.

A tale that's held
Behind your eye,
So hold it tight
And do not cry.

For eyes are doorways
To the soul,
And tears a carriage
To their goal.

And demons held
Behind such walls
Must never darken
Others halls.

It's sounding grim
But do not fear,
Just smile a grin
From ear to ear.

Block the pain
Behind your heart
And let it fester
From the start.

Feed the beast
In all it's glory.
Feel it grow
In might and story.

Do not let
The others see.
Do not show
The pain in thee.

Do not gather
Help from them.
You don't need it,
Root nor stem.

Relax and let
The darkness grow.
Why should you fight it?
You're too slow.

And in the end
When you're alone,
And you realise
How I've grown...

When tears have left you,
Friends have gone,
And nothing seems
To light your song...

That voice that brought you
Misery...
You will find,
That voice was me.

You and I
Have much to do.
So say goodnight.
This time, it's true.

Eastern europe adventures, and the meaning of cool.

Wow, what an incredible trip its been! Through Romania, Moldova, and into Transnistria, a country that the international community says doesnt exist, that uses a currency not listed on thr stock exchange,where east and west meet in secret, an noone really knows what's going to happen.
It's like walking into a soviet twilight zone. The main streets are covered in beautiful buildings, hiding the far more disshevelled (though still very cool) back roads. In the end though, it is incredible, the people are incredible and they love their country, whetheror not others agree it exists.

I've long held the belief that 'cool' is not a popular vote, it is a personal one. If you think something is cool, then it is. Otherscan disagree with you, (and act accordinly) but they dont get a vote in your world, only in their own.
You like it, you rock it. That is cool.

So on an international stage, the people of Transnistria have their problems (Name me a country that doesnt?) But the way they love the patch land they call home, where monopoly's can rule, where coins can be plastic (Google them,they're beautiful) and where people smile just as wide as anywhere else when they meet a new face, invite you into their home, and share the wealth of fruits from their garden, that is cool.

From the beauty of Romania, the winefields of Moldova, intrigue of Transnistria, we enter Ukraine. Hot spot of eastern europe.

Adventuresto be had.

From the wrong time,the wong place,but maybe the right hat,

- Alexander Hewitt

Romania, First impressions

So, my first taste of Romania.
Not quite what I expected, I will say.
First of all, DAMN IT'S HOT.
Actually its not too bad, mid 30's C, (Google did warn me about this, I'm sure one day I'll listen)
but oh do I miss an air conditioner in the humidity...

Flying in, it seems like a land where nature has not quite lost the fight for dominance. The victory of Man over tree is certain, but the battle yet rages, the pockets of trees blanketing the landscape are still holding on, while their enourmous cousins still fight on the fringes. Swathes of forest lie between the farmlands and cities, parts of Bucharest itself is covered in vines, slowly smothering the walls, street lamps and powerlines into a true urban jungle.

The city, Bucharest, reminds me much of cities in Africa, and South America, the space between buildings, the degradation and construction, the graffiti hidden in the alleyways. Yes, this is partially the European architecture, but i had the thought of unity between them, not as simply buildings, but as the humans who live here. These cities flow into such similar shapes, because at the very core of them live the same species of biped ape, divided by culture, distance and language, but united by who they truly are. They are human, and these cities, are their creations.
It struck me as oddly comforting as we drove through the streets of Bucharest, beneath the vines. This wasnt a new or strange place any more. This was  just another city, beautiful and strange in its own unique ways, yet eternally familiar all the same.
And for humans thay built it, or those wandering through, this is a home.

So, hello to country no. 45, I wonder what you have in store for me tomorrow.

From the wrong time, the wrong place, but maybe the right hat,
 - Alexander Hewitt

The First Post

Hey there, and welcome to the blog!

This is still under construction, just a test post to get things going while the final hurdles are all sorted out.



Thanks, I'll hopefully be joining you here soon!


From the wrong time, the wrong place, but maybe the right hat,

-Alexander Hewitt