Epilogue

A small afterthought to my drunkeness, when I’m recovering whilst awake and contemplating not falling asleep -

I miss the town. The constant ability to stay awake, the stupid annoying sounds of police helicopters hovering over my house to find people in parks and bushes, the shouts of heavily-built pissed yobs along the street while closing my blind in vain to block the wall of artificial light out, the general hectic atmosphere of life just bustling from the crackest of dawn with dodgy dealers on the corners of dark alleyways to the ‘A BUNCH FOR A PAND, GET YER CHERREES ROIGHT NAA WHOIL THEIR CHEEP’ marketplace surrounded by card shops, museums and HMV.

Fuck you Norfolk, I don’t belong here. I belong in the heartiest of all towns, I belong in Ipswich.

Who said their birthplace had no influence on them?

Drunk

In which Andeh tries to make the least amount of spelling mistakes possible while remaining intoxicated with stupid amounts of cider, which were all very enjoyable and slipped down very well thank you very much.

When you’re drunk, you don’t think of the most stupid things known to man (I can walk back with a hookah without being caught by my father waiting at the end of the road!), but more try to make things more clear to others – at least, that’s what I’ve found myself doing.

I’ve said today that someone should stop waiting and get a grip on life – the problem is she doesn’t want to and though she’s so fantastic to be around, she doesn’t want to do anything about her predicament – whatever it may be, it bears no importance. The problem is moving on with life – I explain my intricate theory of paths and Fate without going into too much detail, or without using too many consonants which I have trouble pronounced while drunk…the thing is, if she’s happy being so unhappy with what’s happening – circumstances beyond her control which she can influence to make her life better – then why should I try and bother her?

I suppose it’s in my nature to tell people what to do. Maybe I should be a psychologist, only without the difficult science training stuff – just say what people should do with their lives. I dunno – I end up saying ‘If I were you’ too many times these days and I end up looking back at my life and wondering what I’ll do with it…

Then I snap back into it and decide I’m leaving this shit of a town, and making it big worldwide as the person I am. People will remember me for good or bad – let’s see how it pans out.

P.s. Sorry for not getting a lift, Dad actually was there when I text him and you know how he gets – it annoyed me to tear my sight away from you and I’ll see you Monday for a while.

Ciao…

Self

You can sense that the winds are changing, even though there is a peculiar stillness in the air today as mental Mercury pauses to shift his apparent direction. Instead of racing ahead with your best idea, take time now to look back over the past few weeks, integrate what you’ve learned and then begin to apply your new perspective over the next few days.

Thanks, Horoscope. I feel a lot better about what to do next in my life.

After Friday I have not felt like myself. I don’t know why – I’ve been doing exams, revising, shitting about, watching football with my AoT-forum and MSN buddy Adam, playing guitar, chatting up frenchies on the internet. I am in physical form the same, and haven’t changed any part of my routine.

So why do I crawl in my skin even when I wake up?

I don’t feel ‘right’. There’s something there that makes me react to whatever happens and it makes me feel ill. I don’t want it to be there, it’s not something I am. Every second it makes me feel uneasy, out-of-body and out of control. Normally I control my mind – it seems my mind has been controlling me. And it feels so wrong…

I appreciate this is probably the average identity crisis – I am what I am, I change every hour anyway, I will never be the same person twice with people I meet. I just feel like Fate’s pushed me through a door and closed the past, and won’t even let me look back to see if the keys I have in my hand fit the dead-bolted lock. The past is so close to the present – just the same amount of time as the future – and it’s useless reaching either side because you’ll end up doing something wrong. I have very much gone wrong, and wish to just start again. October can’t come soon enough.

Is identity what other people think of you? You say that I’m something in particular, but am I only that to appease other people’s perceptions of me? If I was to change that, would anyone notice and would anyone think worse or better of me? Or would they be too busy thinking about how hard it is being them?

I don’t know what’s happening but I definitely think once I disappear into the wide world of work then I’ll feel a lot more absorbed in life, and a lot less puny and pointless.

What can I do in 60 years to make my life worth living? Is there a set amount of things to do? Are the ‘truly happy’ people the ones who have unlocked this one thing, or things only done in a certain way?

Where do I fit in?

Tomorrow

New phone, new life methinks.

You can never anticipate tomorrow. It’s, what, 24 hours away at most, and you just can’t. Tomorrow I can’t guarantee my bus will turn up, or it won’t rain, or I’m not abducted by aliens/Mormons/Tom Cruise. All I want to do is do my exam. And how will that turn out? Will I be in luck, as I have ridden it for the past few weeks and I’m hoping Fate is being nice to me. If everything’s gone wrong, tomorrow won’t be a hinging point I know it. Which is why there’s no point in getting worried about the last exam in my High-School life.

Another completely irrational thought – worry. It’ll get better in a week/month/year. So I screwed up on Friday – I feel better now and my parents may forgive me by the end of my degree…tomorrow I will feel better about it when I open up the results and find I’ve scraped through. Someday I’ll feel better about being in my own skin, because right now I really don’t feel like me. I don’t know what’s happened but I’ve lost a piece of me. Maybe it was the phone that was the final thing I needed to start anew.

18 really is the start of adulthood, I’m sure…

I dunno, it just feels like I need a day off life. Maybe a holiday or a change.

Change

It’s something about waking up on your 18th having remembered none of last night, then being told you were found by an ambulance at 3am.

Maybe it’s time for a change. Less drinking methinks.

More later.

Decisions

Today, in a slightly philosophical and back-to-when-I-started-this-blogathing way, I discuss decisions.

Someone didn’t turn up to the exam I was taking today. This got me thinking (halfway through the exam of course) – why didn’t he turn up? Did he not want to face the exam? Did he oversleep, and why did he oversleep? Did he, in an ironic yet evil twist of fate, spend too long staying up revising and end up curled up warm in bed instead of getting comfortable on a creaky chair, getting annoyed at no pens working properly and having a headache at the end of it? What did he do ‘wrong’ when everyone else has got here on time, done the exam, complained about it and gone home?

It’s not just that – it’s the idea of if fate exists. Is life a long, straight path that we can only occasionally see 1 foot in front of us, or do some people have nice big torches that shine the way clearly? Are some people completely blind on this walk of Life? Is there a sprawling, unending link of pathways – all spread and waiting to be walked on as you look at the greenery around you or stare at the floor, change your music or check your phone – that you know every step you tread you are never, ever going back. Fate, it seems, pushes you forward helplessly as you stumble up the next passageway in life. There isn’t a change in tracks for days, weeks, years. Are you happy with it? Depends on how you treat the walk.

I myself believe that we are on a straight path – no off the tracks, no path less trodden, not even a rite of passage. One can believe that if they want to, but for me it makes a lot more sense that fate senses you’re going to do something and quickly lays the tracks in front of you without you noticing the tar being a little sticky under your heels or the cats-eyes winking brightly at you…yes, Fate can cheat, and I believe He does. Nothing could know all as it happens – the human mind is a stupid machine and does irrational things when it shouldn’t – what’s under the box and why is it steaming and emitting green stuff? I wonder what happens if I take those pills, I love her so I’m going to walk miles, etc. If I was a machine I would conserve energy and say the right things. I wouldn’t screw up, frankly. But then again, as I have just described in almost touchable detail, can you ever screw up?

This is the beauty of life – knowing we will never get the chance to turn back time, but doing the same things again and again because it makes us feel safe. Let’s do new things with that time. Fly a kite, capture a butterfly, shoot a hooker even. Be unsafe. Fate doesn’t know what we’re going to do yet so let’s surprise Him, and hopefully we’ll catch it napping and gain control of His cement and steamroller.

Way, way more on this later I think.

Timeline

I thought I’d do a visual timeline of photos I’ve taken from being in High-School right up until now.

The main difference appears to be my hair and my smile, because it’s gone from photos unless I’m drunk.

16th Birthday

Just after 16th

Just after 16th

Still 16, not quite 17 I think

May, was almost 17

Just before 17th, in France

December while 17

17, February

March/April time, 17

End of April, 17

Mid-May

Just now – been doing nothing all day. 18 next week.

My life is uninteresting and I wish I was 16 again because I was complete geek but I could actually relate to people. I don’t know why I’ve become so elitist but it’s not doing me any good. Unfortunately I can’t see a way out – people are stupid and I have to correct them. Meh, I’m sure something’ll come and sort me out eventually.

Short blogs are short.

Copycatism

1 + 2 = I bring the guitar

3+4 = I don’t bring my phone

5+6 = I do anything anyone says. Woo, that would be cool

Die, strike true and let Kerry hear my Merry Melodies

6?

You’re kidding -.-

Difficulty

That wasn’t so hard.

Nah, it nearly killed me.

Cleanliness (+More)

“So I have too much stuff. I’m clearing up now (kind of) but I’m realising it’s actually hopeless – I don’t have enough space to put all of this shit. Stuff like magazine CDs, books, guitar shite, headphones (1 of 10 works in both ears but I can’t bring myself to throw them away) and other assorted rubbish. I’m annoyed with myself in places (I have a book-light which is out of battery and a feeder for SeaMonkeys which have died months ago on my desk for example) and I know I won’t throw a lot of this away until Uni…even then it’ll take about a week to decide what.”

I don’t wish to divulge anything else to Myspace.

It’s so annoying – I think my parents are actually right about how being organised helps grades. Meh, I’ll be more organised come Uni because I’ll have a smaller room and one, lovely subject to concentrate on – language. (Start tangent)

Think of all the ways different languages create an image in your mind…Spanish has a dusty, old feeling to it. “Mis tíos viven en el campo” – My aunt and uncle live in the countryside – it’s nothing like in French where you would say “Ma tante et mon oncle vivent á la campagne”, where if said in a traditional strong accent, you imagine a big mansion in the middle of nowhere with servants and a vineyard. The Spanish version, said out loud, builds a picture of a tiny shack with a pen for alpacas and 3 small, tanned children running around it shouting and playing – the aunt and uncle come out and shout ‘ven conmigo mis niños!’. End tangent.

Going back to cleanliness…my parents have a strange urge to be clean. I don’t know why, maybe I’ll do it when I’m older, but they come in with a cup of tea or something and take old cups out, tell me to make the bed, ask if I’m going to put my clothes away, etc. I wonder if I’ll miss this when I’m in uni…the problem is I’m taking a big dislike to cleanliness no matter what they say. Sure, baths and showers, but when it comes to material possessions I’d rather have them strategically placed around my bed and computer, which is kind of what it’s like now. Still, I’m going to have to clean today because otherwise I won’t find a matching A2 past paper and cassette for the listening part.

This brings me to the next point I’ve been thinking about recently. When I’m older.

My Dad has been disappointed in me in certain bits – he is annoyed I don’t work as much as he did when he was my age, I don’t go out nearly as much, I’m generally lazy whereas he didn’t have the choice and had to bike 5 miles a day to school. I spent hours and hours on the computer every day pretty much doing nothing.

When I’m older will I be like this? Will I tell my 6-year-old kid to go to bed at 7:30 and he’ll tell me he’s just finishing learning about nuclear science for his homework, and can he stay up another 30 minutes so the computer finishes uploading it to his brain? I’ll tell him it’s cheating and when I was young I had to learn by memory, becoming disappointed.

Will I be disappointed when he has his first girlfriend…on MSN?

Will I be disappointed when I see on the curriculum that writing is no longer needed and is replaced by typing?

I’m giving this up, it’s making me a bit depressed. Woo, cleaning and revision here I come.