Perennial exhaustion

It’s that time of year again, I have finally reached the first holiday of the academic year – and not a moment too soon.

This year so far has left me with very little time to contemplate what’s happening. Since september I’ve organised my exams for the next year, abridged and directed a version of A Midsummer Night’s dream, applied to (two so far) university and just about managed to keep up to date with 4 A2 syllabuses. The past 8 weeks have left me longing for sleep, free-time and a clear schedule. Alas, you can’t always get what you want!

So during my free week I have to take my LNAT, the admissions test for Law which all of the top universities in the country demand. I also have to continue reading up for my interviews (if I’m offered any.) I’ve taken quite a liking to nervous shock in negligence and have been reading around it quite a lot recently. If you ever feel like being harrowed then read through the cases of Alcock, Copoc and Wright v Chief Constable of South Yorkshire Police, the cases arising from nervous shock, caused by those whoes relatives were killed in the Hillsborough disaster.

On a shallower note, I’ve really slipped out of the circle of currentness of late. I only found out, for example, that Snow Patrol and Kaiser Chiefs have new albums today – a BILLION years after they came out. The Kaiser Chiefs album is ok, but I prefer the last one, having seen them perform most of it live. And Snow Patrol’s new album is really growing on me, much more calm and collected than the previous.

Oh, less I forget the largest development since my last post – I am now 18. I am now, by rights, an adult. I can vote, though there’s another issue entirely, and can do pretty much anything I so wish. Scary hey!? This time next year I shall be at university, totally(ish) independent. That both excites, and scares the living poo out of me!

Ok, so there was a brief update of sorts. Hopefully I can get back to writing over the next week, I have missed it massively of late.

Milestone

It’s funny, but sometimes all we need in order to succeed is somebody to tell us that we’re going to fail.

Now, I don’t proclaim to be an expert in reverse psychology, nor do I hold out to have any sort of knowledge of the intricacies of the human thought process but I do know that, as a rule of thumb, if somebody tells me that I’m going to fail at something then I’ll do my damn hardest to prove them wrong.

I was recently told by an old school teacher that I would never make it as a barrister; I’m not dedicated enough, I lack the shrewdness and astuteness required to be anything more than a legal executive and said teacher said it was questionable whether or not I had the academic capability to do so. I was also advised by one of my teachers not to apply for a particular course at university as “it would be a waste of an application – the chances of being accepted don’t justify using up one of only 5 choices.”

Now accredit it to what you will; an inherent disregard for authority, an abnormal susceptibility to reverse psychology or blatant arrogance, I refuse to change my entire focus on one person’s say so. If said person is an expert then yes it gives food for thought, equally if the advice is from somebody I respect such as the latterly aforementioned teacher. However, if this contrary view comes fired from somebody on the cuff or is given with seemingly little contemplation then often it has the opposite effect on me. Take, for example, the former teacher. At the time they taught me I was 11 – a rowdy, boisterous year six with ideas above his station and an ego which could barely be contained. Many things change over the years; I’m now a year 13. I bumped into said teacher quite randomly in the town centre, she asked what I was studying and, as most people do, honed in on law. Now, on the whole people have huge misconceptions about those studying law. It may be surprising to learn but as I’ve had less than 12 months of legal teaching I’m actually not qualified to give legal advice, nor am I in a position to debate the confines to which we should limit current legislation. I can’t get your ‘mate’ off a traffic offence charge and I certainly shouldn’t be the one to read over a draft lease agreement! Yet alas said teacher had the pre-conceptions.

“You’re studying law? (At this point the abnormally large eyebrows have gained considerable altitude) Not going to be a lawyer are you?”

“Actually I’m considering becoming a barrister, although I’m not sure what area of law I’d like to specialise in.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I can’t see you in court. Not on the right side of the dock anyway! [laughs]” (said laugh was the sort of laugh where the defendant clearly meant what she had just said but was attempting to disguise her evident despise with a cover of severely unconvincing cachinnation.)

“Well I’ve changed a lot since Morton (primary school.) I expect everybody has.” This statement was a lie – the chances of her being any less of a miserable child-preying bitch than in 2001 are absolutely nil, as was confirmed by her response.

“Indeed.” Now that’s a response and a half. Which she followed up with a frankly unneeded soliloquy in which she outline how she thought I’d be unsuitable for the bar as, from what she knew of me, I wasn’t quite astute or shrewd enough. She then told me (because obviously I had no idea) that the bar is a very competitive career choice to take and that statistically I wouldn’t succeed.

Now this point has always been resonated whenever the issue of the bar has arisen, usually I take note and becoming adequately conscious of the gravity of my dreams. However, for some reason in the situation I completely disregarded the comment.

So finally I reach my point. If we only heed advice from the people we trust and/or respect what happens if we become distant from those closest to us and embark upon a path on which those whom we trust know nothing about. Surely we leave our pool of light and walk an entirely darkened path? And what happens if we perceive those around us as not knowing the ‘real us’? I don’t believe that Miss Norbron knows the real me, therefore I disregarded her opinions out of spite – the spite was only born from the fact that she once knew me but now clearly doesn’t. So, if I were to change in myself so dramatically that I thought those around me didn’t know what I’d become , would I listen to what they had to say about me? Not listen as in the physical sense of the verb, but heed advice, acknowledge opinions and subsequently challenge my own. Surely this is how some people we brand as ‘extremists’ come to be?

Hypothetical situation:

Tom, 32 years old working in an accountancy firm. 9am-6pm Monday-Friday. £24,000 per annum with a £250 Christmas bonus if he’s lucky. Tom hates his boss, but everyone else at work seems to get along with him. As a result Tom doesn’t go out with workmates and likes to keep work and private life very separate. Tom has a close group of friends he’s known since university; 5 of them that go out most weekends and spend the odd weekday in etc. Here Tom’s in what I guess you could call the normal situation. So what happens next?

The accountancy firm Tom works for decides to increase productivity; thus increasing working hours. Tom now works 9am-7pm Monday-Friday and 10am-2pm Saturday. Because he works later he doesn’t see his friends in the evenings. He also doesn’t see them on Saturdays anymore. He works a 6 day week so on Sunday he’s knackered. Work’s getting him down and the last thing he wants to do is get pissed on Sunday to awake Monday with a hangover. Because he doesn’t spend as much time with his friends he feels distant from them. The longer he goes without going out, the harder it becomes to take the plunge. A month goes by and he hasn’t been out for 4 weeks. At this stage he feels detached from his friends, he doesn’t have anyone to go out and grab a coffee with, noone to go out and have a walk and a chat to.

An opening for a promotion comes up at work; Tom thinks he could do the job, he knows it would be hard but it’s something that he really sees himself doing. The promotion requires extra knowledge and lots of preparatory work, so he sets about learning the additional material and skills required. A month down the line Tom has been studying and reading up on the areas and has really progressed; he’s also got talking to a couple of the other candidates and has revived some form of social life. In the elapsed time he hears that one of his old friends has got married, he wasn’t surprised not to receive an invite but it did make him think a little.

A week before the first interview Tom is nervous; he enjoys the new area of accountancy but it’s a massive change from his usual comfort zone and he’d be throwing himself into the unknown with no guarantee of security. His boss has clocked on that Tom hates him; Tom had confided in one candidate who, it transpired, was a close friend of the boss. The boss wants Tom out, the other candidates are now hostile as everybody wants the job. Tom really needs advice, or someone to talk to. As fate would have it he bumps into one of his old friends, Mark, on his daily trip to Starbucks.

They exchange niceties and both take orders to drink in; Mark orders a Cappuccino as he always has, Tom orders a Latté (a drink which he’d first tried after a recommendation form a candidate at work.) Things start to go wrong from here.

Mark: Latté? Since when have you ever liked Latté?

Tom: Since, well, ever.

Mark: You were always a Macchiato man, double shot with cream.

Tom: That’s a long time ago.

Here Tom is beginning to become hostile, Mark has made an issue out of a change. As far as Tom is concerned, however, this is Tom. Not a changed Tom, but Tom. After some discussion of their mutual friend’s wedding (Mark: they tried to phone you every day for two weeks. We all did, just after you’d have got back from work we phoned – you never answered. I came over personally one Saturday but you weren’t there.) they then progress to the topic of Tom’s promotion. Mark doesn’t understand why on earth Tom would want to go into tax accountancy.

Mark: No offence mate but you’re not one for tax. You’re more of a property guy, that’s what you’re good at. You love your job, you’re dedicated to it – we all know that.

Tom: But tax accountancy would give me so much more scope career-wise. (Tom has been studying really hard for the past couple of months and is really excited by the prospect.)

Mark: yeh but you shouldn’t take the job. There will be more, this one’s not for you mate.

After an “oh, so sorry, I have to go” get out Tom is alone again.

What would Mark know? He doesn’t know Tom anymore, he doesn’t understand what makes him tick what drives him, he doesn’t even know his coffee order! Mark doesn’t understand taxation and certainly doesn’t understand the firm. Tom won’t listen to him and heed his advice. Source of advice number 1 = ignored.

The other candidates want Tom to drop out. But of course they would, he’s the competition. They don’t actually care about him do they? Source number 2 = ignored.

The boss hates Tom as much as Tom hates him. He says he should quit the firm and drop out of accountancy all together. Source number 3 = ignored.

So how does this relate to me? Well, Tom has 3 people telling him that he shouldn’t go for it. Yet none of these people are of significance to really stop him. He may be about to make a huge mistake, and there is noone close enough to him to really understand his situation. A close friend would understand exactly what it meant to him, appreciate the sacrifices he had made and share, or at least have a inkling into Tom’s vision. Tom doesn’t have anyone like that. Perhaps this is how extremists come to be; perhaps they become fascinated with a political or ethical ideal to such an extent that it becomes a part of them. When others do not understand the ideal then it appears that they do not understand the individual. Said subject then becomes detached from those closet to him/her. Here the safety blanket is burned. The only guidance which will be heeded is that of the conscience – yet if this has been replaced by a dependency or fanaticism then people can be ‘controlled’ by third parties; literature, protagonists; dictators. How do we know when our safety blanket is burning?

I guess it’s hard to tell; we all go through social changes and upheavals. Friendships change, disappear, reignite and sometimes stagnate. But so long as we have at least one constant, one reference point so-to-speak I guess we can all cling on to the ledge of normality. Without a ‘rock’ (apologies for the clichée) we cannot set a bearing for a new path. We need a point to start at, a point which we know is fixed and shall be there should we decide to return, or flee back to. We are all dependent upon our friends, yet perhaps we may not realise to what degree until it is too late.

I hope Tom finds happiness,

and that Miss Norbron needs a barrister in ten years time.

Rush, write, relax.

The proverbial faecal matter hit the fan this morning.

It would seem that buses near me don’t run on a Sunday. Therefore I cannot get to Doncaster train station by bus. No Doncaster station = no train to Newark. No train to Newark = No mini-bus to Stanstead. No Stanstead = No Berlin = Untimely and gruesome death.

So this is karma well and truly bending me over and kicking me with its size 11 steel toe-cap boots firmly up the arse. I tried to be slightly spontaneous recently. That will not do!

Thankfully when I panic I think of lots of situations/possibilities. So an hour later I’m now getting a lift (which I’m paying for in Euros) to Retford train station and then I’m getting a direct service to Newark. Thankfully it won’t cost me as much. Not so thankfully it’ll mean I’m in Newark 2 hours early and without starbucks. Oh the sacrifices we make. So, should you bump into me today in Retford or Newark before 2pm allow me to give a word (or three) of advice. DO NOT APPROACH! lol, I’m all flustered now so methinks a bit of alone + ipod time is required. Thankfully I love travelling, more so at times than actual holidays, so I’m not too worried about all of this. Now I know I can actually get there I’m fine. I even considered taking my mum’s car, well for part of the journey.

Anyhoo, I need to go soon and I think a cup of tea is in order before-hand.

I feel much calmer now than when I started writing, oh the wonders of blogging, lol.

Bis bald x

(Un)muted frustration

    It’s been a while since I last blogged. And I guess I should, or rather could, start by explaining why.

    I’ve been hit, square in the face, by a brick wall of complete and utter apathy. Of late I am, quite possibly, the single most boring person, emotionally speaking, on the face of the planet. At the moment I can’t help but feeling, well, grey.

I have no idea what to say. I don’t have any particularly momentous thoughts at the moment, no emotions are tugging heartstrings, nothing is peeving me off to the extent that I feel I have to denounce it openly in writing. In fact, if anything less was happening in my head then I’m pretty sure I could be classed as brain-dead. The emotions I do stumble across in my penumbrally wandering state are often mere pebbles at the roadside. Whereas usually I’d encounter great potholes and hurdles across my path.

    So, taking an objective view of all of this. Essentially, I seem to be more apathetic and more detached. Well, that’s great? Surely that means that I don’t have reason to complain or grumble, criticise or attempt to make sense of anything. Maybe, just for once, I can shut the fuck up. Well, no. Because I’m trapped in a cloud of grey and I’m used to the LSD-like colours and surroundings of an almost psychotic and mesmeric parallel world. So, sorry, but grey is boring my pissing socks off! And not only that, grey has meaning to me. Usually this greyness is the sign of things to come, or things passed. But now this is my past, present and future. I’m drowning, and the longer this goes on the deeper the water gets. I can feel myself sinking away from the reality that was previously so damn perfect. And so now I feel myself feeling bitter, cheated. And I enjoy that because it’s emotion! Sod what type of emotion it is, I’m feeling it so i’m enjoying it. But now I’ve revelled in it the bitterness has gone and I’m back in the penumbral cloud of grey. I’m using grey a lot. I don’t dislike the colour grey itself. I just chose it to describe this state. I’d say it was beige? But I quite like beige too. Black? Love black. Pink? too happy. See, not only am I apathetic but I’m indecisive and plain stupid too.

I can’t imagine how utterly fucked up this will sound to read. And to be fair, I don’t care. Well, it’s not that I don’t care, I just, don’t understand? ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!

FKJLASDJLLGJASHAH!!

I HATE THIS

ABSOLUTELY EVERY FUCKING MOMENT OF IT

I CAN’T DO IT

    And, I don’t expect anyone to understand because I don’t even understand it. I just feel like I’m no longer living my life, but watching it being lived. I feel like a spectator of myself. I’m frustrated, angry, upset, confused, bewildered and bitter. And I hate it, but none of these emotions are half of what I’m used to. And I know I sound melodramatic, attention-seeking and pretty much outright mental but I just need to feel something.

    To those of you who know me, I’m sorry if this makes you feel awkward around me but I just had to get it off my chest. To the two, who know who they are, I love you both very much and always will do. And I’m sorry if of late I’m detached, moody and downright bastard-like. And to those of you who don’t know me. Well, consider yourselves lucky I guess.

    I probably shouldn’t have written this. And will no doubt delete it at a later date. But for the moment it will stay. As, it seems, will my cloud. However, I do have a sliver lining. And I’ve mentioned them previously. Thank you. I’m sorry.

P.S – I’m also extremely sorry for my language in this post. It’s not big, and it’s not clever – but it does serve as some elementary form of primitive release.

Outsider

One of my worries of late has been about my old friends. Recently it was hammered home to me that I’d not been spending time with those who I used to class as closest to me. And as a result I’ve well and truly thrown myself from the circle of friendship. I don’t feel like I can address the problem fully though because it’s a bigger group than it used to be. And it now comprises of some people I really don’t like. And it’s impossible to talk to one person, and it not filter through the whole group. And I know they talk about me behind my back, and I know that as a whole they fucking hate me.

I guess this would be a million times worse If I didn’t have some epic friends who are always there for me. But I feel guilty burdening people with my, to be fair, self-inflicted problems when they all have things of their own to deal with. So, in an attempt to write down some of my thoughts I wrote another poem. I must apologise for the quality and quantity of my poems. They’re not really meant to be read, I just like putting thoughts down. And if you can make any sense of them then you’re probably in, or have been, in a similar situation. Either which way you’ll probably detest the analogy I chose.

A circle of light,
a chain of faces
unbroken and impenetrable.
No entry, no exit.

And then the light fades,
I’m moving backwards,
slow at first,
I do not understand.

I watch, stay, do nothing,
make no sound,
moving quicker,
quicker, lights become dim.

The edge of the circle
passes my side,
I am out.
Too late, it has passed.

I do not know how,
I wish to be inside,
yet I see only the turned heads,
of people I once knew.

I cannot turn one head,
without turning them all.
There is no easy way in,
out once, out forever.

There is no easy way,
no one step at a time.
No, jump down all of the steps, plunge,
or never see the bottom again.

And still the light there shines,
but now it seems tinted.
Green, red.
A white flag would looked coloured in their eyes.

I have changed.

Well, sorry for wasting more of your time. I guess I just have decide where I want to go and focus. But if you don’t know where you’re going then any path can take you there! And I really don’t feel like choosing a path right now.

Knowledge, Wisdom, other.

So I’ve decided that major reforms aren’t in order – thank you Michael. However, I wanted to try something a bit different so I’ll try and inject it somewhere in the ensuing entry.

I finished watching American Beauty about 30 minutes ago, my word is that film thought-provoking. Needless to say I cried in certain points and one line in particular has implanted itself into my memory already: “There’s nothing worse in life than being ordinary.” Well I’d say I’m pretty much 50/50 split on my agreement with that. Sure, ordinary can be boring – doing the same thing day in, day out, meeting the same people, being the same person, conforming to “their” standards and living a desperately prescribed life. However, on the flip side of the coin ordinary can be amazing. Surely ordinary is a calm, relaxing and peaceful state? Ordinary is beige, not glaringly bohemian yet by no means resignedly dull either. Ordinary, like beige, is a haven from the extremes we create in our lives. Ordinary is good once in a while, and we would do well not to synonamise ordinary with boring.

Additionally, the writer brought up the issue of beauty. Not chick-flick, skin deep “How big are your boobs?” beauty, but true natural beauty. And to me true beauty is really hard to find. I’m quite willing to admit that I’m often so engrossed in my ultimately insignificant quotidienne that I often ignore what is all around me, and I expect that it is this that makes me so ignorant to the beauty of things around me. But beauty is a concept, and I fear it’s one I don’t fully understand. Not through lack of trying. I, I just tend to think about things too much? And often I attribute what some would class as beauty to other things. I can’t really explain it, as you’ve already seen – in fact, I made quite the pig’s ear of that entire section!

So I’ll move on. I wrote a short poem earlier and this is where I risk offending the masses. I’m not a writer, I have very little knowledge of the intricacies of the English language and I don’t particularly like making things follow a pattern if I’m streaming my thoughts. The following isn’t meant to sound pretentious, or naïve, though I fear it will tick both of the boxes on the shameful list.

I can’t describe what I know,
for what I know and believe
are to me a kin yet to you,
lies.

And when I try to tell myself
that the truth I know is false,
I can muster no belief
and I question truth, not self.

When posing question to a truth,
the answer can merely be thought,
and thoughts are born of mind
so to question is to think?

And if to question is to think,
then an answer is to know.
How do I know if I do not question?
And who do I question, who answers?

I cannot question of myself,
for no answer will come of knowledge,
knowledge which comes from question.
I am never to know, but always to question.

Still it plagues me,
question – why?

Yeh, so there it is. Essentially it’s confusion mixed with desperate attempts at reason thrown into some sort of literary format. Perhaps next time I should confine my less legible thoughts to my head!

Lack of legibility – this leads me nicely onto the topic of history homework. Now, if you’ve ever studied the Napoleonic regime with particular reference to the centralisation of French government then please feel free to comment and give me any pearls of wisdom which you wish to share. Because I think it’s safe to say that I haven’t got a clue. I’ve been trying (well, sort of thinking about whilst doing other things) to make an information sheet about the aforementioned area but I’ve had little (read:no) success! So I guess I’ll do what the Bourbon Monarchy did and just give up the ghost!

As I shall with this post, I’m not going to make my next posts too long because I’d risk writing everything I have to say at the moment in a few posts, where I could span it out and not have to worry about what to write. Worry not, I have many many thoughts to come!

For now, however, I bid thee farewell.

Abashed, Banal, Bromidic

” We’ve all done it at some point. Sitting at the back of the classroom, our attention span fully exhausted and our will to live somewhat sapping. All of a sudden the paper clip in front of you seems awfully interesting. Now, I don’t proclaim to be an expert on the uses of paper clips but I do know that unraveling the seemingly perfect form is a fantastic way to waste 30 seconds of otherwise unproductive time. Unfortunately I feel as though I have become that paper clip. And I’m sure you also know that re-forming an unraveled paper clip is impossible. I’m hoping I’ve not reached that situation.

So I guess I should explain my feelings and the reasons for them. I’m extremely sorry but I’m going to have to use the C word. Change. Yep, I expect this word is getting quite cocky with its dominant position in my tag cloud but it really is one of the major driving forces in my life en ce moment. The dynamics of my life have shifted and I’m now in a strange position – I’m adapting in a way which I feel like I can control. “

Ok, that’s what I started with. Re-reading it it just sounds pretentious, nonsensical and plain crap. So I’ll try a more concise route to my point (if and when I ever decide upon one.)

Basically the changes in my life have stopped and I’m now in the situation where I can finally take stock and try to decide what path to take. My emotions and feelings have sort of toned themselves down and I now feel like I can enjoy what I have at the moment, in the moment. I’m pretty confident that I’ve judged the situations around me relatively well and I can see the ways things are heading. There are bits I’m not going to enjoy but equally things on the whole are looking up.

I seem to have lost all inspiration with regards to this blog and I genuinely don’t know what to write here anymore. You can see that my last post was a week ago so obviously procrastination is starting to have its wicked way with me. I think, as a result, that a change in direction is in order. My next post may well be something very different to my usual ramblings on about various thoughts, alternatively it could just never appear.

Recently I’ve been writing a piece about a boy in secondary school, I may even type a little bit up for a change. Though I’d risk boring those of you who ever read this to death.

Sorry this has been genuinely crap. I’m sorry that you’ll inevitably feel that some of your time has been wasted. It you really want to make up for it and do something productive try bending a paper clip into a straight line!

Wow, that sure was an horrific ending.

Hm, Sorry.

A fall?

I don’t particularly know how to describe my current feelings, namely because I don’t really understand them so could not possibly begin to give them wordly justice. A lot of things have happened since Monday and they’ve all left me feeling slightly confused, disorientated and very much out of the loop. So, as normal, I am drowning in my own apathy.

I was quite nervous about going back to college after Christmas. I knew there would be awkwardness with certain people, as indeed there has been, and I knew that previous routines would perhaps be broken. I also worried that the new people I have met would have forgotten me over the break and that the new friendships I had made would be nothing, and that my “new start” would simply be “return to start” – now that’s paranoia!

Thankfully I still have some enthusiasm (perhaps drive would be more appropriate) towards my studies, mainly because the thought of university is currently one which I cherish in every spare moment. Less than two years, I’d like to say it’s come quickly but it hasn’t.

I also feel at the moment that things (by which I mean life, the people around me, and just general…things) are moving on at a pace I can’t keep up with. And subsequently at times I can’t help but feeling slightly left behind. Not a wayside feeling, but more of a lagging-behind one. I’m possibly just over analysing everything at the moment.

I’m very sorry but I actually find this entry really hard to write, normally things just flow out. Which, to be fair, reflects how I’m feeling. I have to actually think about how I feel, which means that I don’t feel as at ease as normal because I’m hindered by some sort of apprehension or subliminal retardation.

I’m desperately trying to identify what it is that’s bugging me so much but I just can’t put my finger on it! ARGH! I just don’t feel particularly in control at the moment, and because of this I seem incapable of normal thought processes. What the hell is going on?

I hope next week will bring some sort of light to the situation, if not then I shall probably turn into an extremely miserable (by which I mean more miserable than normal) git.

Sorry about the shortness, general depressing nature and sheer stupidity of this post – I’m currently trying to run up a hill that seems to be getting steeper and I have no idea how much further I have to run.

I have no idea whatsoever.

“How are you?” Yes it’s a simple question, and I expect we all get asked it at least 5 times a day. My usual answer is either “I’m fine” (or “I’m well”) “thank you.” But today I was asked that very question and for some bizarre reason was unable to formulate a comprehensible answer.

“Hey! How are you?” Usually I answer without thinking about it or even sometimes, if I’m really preoccupied, without letting the person finish the question. But this morning not only did I listen to the question, I considered what it was actually asking. How am I?

Well, physically I’m well – I’m alive, suffering from sporadic bouts of (man) flu, but none the worse for it. Not particularly (or remotely) fit and not at all in shape, but that’s the norm. So yeh, I’m fine.

But then there’s the flip side. Mentally I’m exhausted. Not worn down, or under the weather, but exhausted. Ok, so now I sound melodramatic and I guess I probably am being, I’m in one of those ridiculously apathetic stupors that tend to tryannise adolescence, and then spill into later life. But at the moment I’m in a tunnel where there is no light at the end. Just random air vents allowing momentary glimmers of hope in an otherwise mono-directional batch process life.

By which I’m referring mainly to school (well it’s college but it still feels like school.) I’m two terms into my A-levels and don’t mind admitting that I’m finding it pretty hard going. My subject choices, although they are based on my interests, were perhaps too ambitious and in such respects even naïve. Quite how I expected to prosper I have no idea. Although, in some courses at least, the first terms are apparently the hardest so there’s an air vent.

And another factor of late is that (in case you missed it) it’s coming up to Christmas. Now usually I’d be the big kid and be mega excited usw. But this year I’m dreading it. Unfortunately my father is the personification of sordid and in the past couple of months has left my mother, and the family to swan off and do as he pleases. All very well and dandy, I can’t say we ever got on anyway. But unfortunately (perhaps unfortunately is the wrong word) my mum still loves him etc. So Christmas, a time for all the family, is gonna constitute of awkward silences and generic words of thanks. Lovely!

And I know that I’m lucky to have what I have, and I know that [Oh for fuck sake! - If i get another bastard e-mail from ipoints I'm going to kill something!] there are millions of people who are infinitely worse off than I am, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. And I’m sorry that I’m taking such a selfish, self-centered and bigoted view of the situation but I’m still looking for a light.

So I can’t really call this a post can I. (Was deliberating a ! or a ? for the end of that sentence, couldn’t decide so ended with a .) So I shall class this as a rant post. Not made for good reading, not particularly insightful and definately not uplifting!

Allow me to apologise (again) for the languishing nature of the past couple of posts. I shall keep trying to think happy thoughts!

Oh, and the picture (by the way) is just something I found online which doesn’t have particular relevance to any of the aforementioned but I thought it went well with the clueless theme. Being as I have no idea what to make of it!

And the list goes on…

List (noun): a series of names or other items written or printed together in a meaningful grouping or sequence so as to constitute a record.

Perhaps it is the OCD within me, but I love lists. Lists are the very basis of my everyday life. Whether they be written or mental, my daily routine would not function without them;

1. Get up
2. Shower
3. Breakfast
4. Brush teeth & hair
5. Get dressed
6. Pack bag
7. Check E-mails
8. Leave house

Voilà! My weekday morning in clear, concise and memorable form. That’s the routine, that’s what I stick to. No room for deviation, no room for hidden surprises. If something desperate crops up then it can be inserted where appropriate but other than in emergencies this list is to be obeyed at all times.

I’m the sort of person that (despite my views on infinite looping lives) thrives upon routine. I find my way of doing things and I stick to it. I stay within my loop because I know that I’m safe within it. Yes, occasionally I’ll breach the loop – but only if I’ve considered every eventuality and have planned for all outcomes. Whether it be conversations, movements or actions I’ll consider and provisionally plan them all. Therefore my (at times) apparent spontaneity is in fact only calculated, risk assessed and deliberated (delayed) impulsiveness.

I plan meticulously for all eventualities, I live in the future, and dwell on the past. The present is just something to think about tomorrow. Tomorrow needs to be planned for today! So, understandably I sometimes lose focus and all sense of reality. In which cases, karma (or life) tends to bring me back down to earth with a suitably heavy bump.

Yet when I don’t plan for something, am not in control or don’t know the itinerary I find it hard to revel in the moment, because my thoughts are always dominated by the near future and past. I dwell not on what it being said in the moment, but the conversation 20 minutes ago. I therefore seem socially and conversationally retarded, or just quiet.

Cliché tag line number two; “Live life in the moment”

I genuinely envy those who can truly do this, though I find it hard to believe that any body can. Fair enough, at times I become caught in a moment and for that time my attention is far less spread than normal – but could I envisage living like this all of the time? I don’t think so. Even as a child I would plan ahead – conversations normally – and eventually I became able to predict accurately peoples’ responses. Starting high school I used this mainly to get out of not handing in homework. Then it turned to making friends, a process which is considerably harder than planning excuses and mitigating ones failures.

Which leads me to believe that living in the moment is a tongue-rolling quality. You either can, or you can’t. I can’t (but I can roll my tongue ) Whether it’s something you can learn to do or not I couldn’t even speculate, but it’s possible. Perhaps I should try some genuine spontaneity once in a while.

So now I shall go and ponder tomorrow’s entry. Strange, just had déjà vu. Now that’s definately a subject for a later post.

Couldn’t leave that as an ending, sounded far too planned, not that this isn’t!