Change

I can’t help but wonder what those 2 weeks just contributed to. I look at life as if every turn meant something towards the future. For now it looks like a little more tan, sexual frustration and more of the same, but in the sun and out of my mind with shisha and beer.

If it meant that I should work less, bingo. It’s worked. If it means I should be more touchy-feely and fuck around with people, it’s worked. If it means that it’s highlighted that nothing’s changed and I should do something about it, again it’s worked.

What do I do about it? Woo some Killers-loving fringe-wearing moron into my room and go about our business? I’m looking for someone with an opinion not based on their Facebook groups.

Anyway, I have a sculpture of a man holding a big penis and it makes me smile to look at.

I have too many empty drinks cans around me from entertaining tonight. I beat a bodybuilder at pool twice though, which again made me smile a little.

I need some illegal drug to make me feel alive or something. Maybe dead.

Y’know, if I was diagnosed with mouth cancer I’d be fine with it. I’d be more curious about what happens after I die, because if this is all there is – there’s really not much going on and I’d rather be a part of something bigger.

Maybe Hell is just Scouting For Girls played again and again while I work for The Works on Wednesdays with Kate telling me ‘ye’ve got a customaaaar’, and Chopin blaring at me through the poor-quality stereo.

I had a cool dream the other night, Alestorm were giving out chips and someone was wearing a Bloodstock ‘09 t-shirt. Hehe. Drunken dreams.

In the meantime, I think I’ll go make myself happier for a bit. Peace, homies.

Loss

I woke up today thinking you were next to me, a transition of a lucid dream.

I started in knowing I was in a bunker, wanting to get out.

You were next to me, and knew a way out.

I saw the date – 17 July 1944. I saw it again – 25 November 1788. I knew

So I followed you, seemingly without you knowing.

You kept walking, through the cave, into a colourful haven. I hid behind a wall until you finished losing the guards.

Robots guarded the small opening in which I slunk through, masked by my own arrogance.

You faded into the distance…
I caught up…

You pushed me away.

I fell down and cried.

Never have tears felt so fucking real

Fuck you, dammit, and I hate being a depressive 18-year-old, who’s obviously inferior to 19-year-old-cunts.

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.

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 -.-

Habit

This might be a long one depending on how deep I go.

Today was a shit day because of the many crying babies girls as it was the last day of school ever.

Ever. That’s 14 years of being somewhere you really don’t want to be. However, to make it better, people make friends. I don’t see the point of being sad about people you only put up with to get through the 14 years, along with being in an environment that in fact prohibits friendship in many ways – no talking, don’t talk to strangers, anti-bullying messages, generally bigger people (though Bungay had it easy – Year 7s vs Year 13s was difficult to say the least in Copleston) and fatigue from having shit you don’t want crammed into your brain, into your brain. At least I think this is why I’m mildly annoyed at this.

There was also a ball. Aside from it being a gross Americanisation (might as well just call sinks faucets and get car bonnets confused with trunks now and get it over with) it’s also and over-the-top way of saying ‘I no longer have to see your faces blahing at me every single day’. The whole ‘clique’ thing goes to a new level and drunken boundaries are broken. Not to mention the bus ride home…bleurghhhh. Don’t get me wrong but I still haven’t got this people business, and if I seem general, arrogant and a fuckwit, then it was probably not meant (enough commas?), but this is just stupid. Plus I look like a tit in a suit.

No longer lingering on this for fear of looking resentful towards the jocks and plastics who sail through life with people like me dribbling at their feet (Emma Scotton is actually the most perfect-looking person I’ve ever seen and I want to steal her), for me school has been a habit, and so I suppose people have become that too. Signing in people’s leaver’s books I wrote the same thing – I’ll miss you etc. Posing in photos I made the same face.

Others showed some kind of…feeling. I don’t really feel that, and I’m beginning to think it’s a part of my life that I must have just skipped at some point. I’m fine with staying in the corner and just observing others, I don’t want to be part of the conversation because it turns into me telling other people about stuff. I like the out-of-the-way, no-strings feeling of being invisible and sailing through without others looking at me, either in a bad light or a good one. For a megalomaniac I seem to have bipolar.

I know some people would have been mildly annoyed that I said goodbye a few times to some guys, but that was only because I was dragged along instead of going home early. This means they think I actually will really miss them, which I suppose is a good thing now I come to think of it.

I really, really hope my new life doesn’t become a habit just like that one. I hate the slog, the self-predictability. I want to try polyphasic sleep – a method in which your body gets the 3 hours of REM it needs as soon as it goes to sleep. Think the German, efficient version of sleep. Unfortunately, you can only take 30 minute or 20 minute sleeps, at 6 or 4 hour intervals, according to the guide. This would screw up any plans you had really, for example day-trips or extended periods away from home in general. This method of sleep isn’t easy to move in and out of either – this one guy spent about a month getting into it and only just managed to do it. However, this can leave too much time at night just sitting waiting, whereas normally you’d be asleep. Everything has its advantages and disadvantages, but I’d love to just try it, to see how it felt. Apparently every cycle you do, you dream straight away because your body has to adapt to the conditions you’re setting it. It’s a beautiful idea, and works on the same idea as any ‘normal’ monophasic sleep pattern, except it ignores time and light indicators. Anyway, enough about that.

The only thing that doesn’t make me go ‘guh’ in an annoyed manner is language and a crush. I spent about 30 minutes reading a book about grammar that I picked up as a joke, and learnt about orthography (the way in which words are meant to be worded). It actually turned me on a little, god I’m weird.

Crushes are just awesome because you never know if it’ll turn into a thrill-ride or end up being light flirting for the rest of life with them. I tend to have a lot of crushes. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m leaving school? I still the mentality in some parts.

Going back to habits.

I bite my nails pretty badly – about 3 or 4 of my fingers are bleeding or have bled from today, and that’s about normal for me. I know I’ll end up with stubby fingers or whatever, or in jobs people will go ‘ooh no he’s a baddie because of his fingernails etc’ but I just don’t care for now. What started as habit has become relaxation and comfort. I love to bite my nails, I actually love it. The caress and prising to having not had a chance for ages and sitting for 15 minutes for a session. If I didn’t bite my nails I wouldn’t feel like me.

Habits are defined as ‘an established way of behaving’. Society is a habit. Talking is a habit. Life is a habit if that’s anything to go by.

A habit for me is, if I was to control the dictionary, ‘an addiction to a characteristic trait or behaviour’ i.e. I bite my nails, I chew plectrums (now you know what to get me for birthday ), I have tea with the bag still in. I can deny it’s an addiction, but here’s where the line is blurred – where do you just like something and where is the addiction? That seems to be down to society to tell you. You suck your thumb? Addiction. You drag your feet? Habit. Stupidity in a nutshell…

I’ve gone as deep as I want, I think. I haven’t padded it out, as I never do. My mind goes in a tunnel with forks, and just follows one. That’s why I don’t get very good marks on essays. Well, I do, but that’s because I’m just fucking awesome.

(Small update – Internet just cut off. I had to turn the wireless off and on again to post this. Habit?)

Beliefs

What anyone can believe can be undermined at any moment, like everything really. The only difference is that with beliefs and opinions, they can’t be changed without the permission of the individual.

Todorov says no matter how many times we look at white swans passing us, there is no affirmation that they aren’t any other colour, e.g. black, yellow or fluorescent pink. Some individuals accepted it, yet others argued that actually you could argue that the swans’ genetic make-up is so that all of them are white. Someone else (me) said that actually there can be a freak mutation in any animal at any time, which is the fundamentals of evolution, and that there may be a species of swan not discovered yet, or hidden from the public (don’t ask me why, we all lolled). The people who didn’t agree had no argument against this however they flatly refused to change their beliefs, because the undermining of beliefs seems to make anyone very uncomfortable and unsafe about themselves. This is even if the beliefs were formed by parents or television or even just randomly in childhood. For instance, I grew up thinking all cars ran on the same fuel and the different types were solely due to the driver’s preference to the colours. Makes sense if you think about it as a child. Only when I was explicitly explained that the colours signified something did I resign myself to the fact that they were right and I was wrong. This may be due to my competitiveness, but I think all people have this trait. Competitive people are obviously affected more.

Which brings me to the next argument we stumbled across – time and colour do not exist (This was to prove that genre boundaries in film classifications are only due to our perception that has been built up over centuries socially through Aristotle and Neo-Classicalism). Time is a way of people to measure something and makes us feel safe.

‘What’s the time?’ ‘12:00′ ‘Oh ok, I have 3 hours to do this paper until I have to give it in’

Or a little while ago:

‘When was the Earth formed, I feel a little insecure that our human knowledge is inferior to that of nature’

‘God did it’

Or, even further back:

‘WHAT TIME UG’ ‘NO KNOW, NEED EAT GAZELLE’

The reason why people reacted differently was of course because in the first example, time makes you feel secure because of the assurance that there is a measurable period of life in which you can do the paper. Without it, think how hard life would be if you didn’t know the time and everyone else did – you’d lose track of the date and time and only know the seasons through heat. However, you’d be a lot less controlled by time, in that you have no limits in where to go and when. Eat when you want, not when others eat. Same with sleep. Problem is that humans were programmed to measure and define boundaries and place them into categories, to make us feel safe and knowledgeable about the world around us.

The second reason is bad because people need to prove something even if they don’t know how something works. For example, people didn’t know that the Earth was round, and knew that if they stood on a really high hill, the Earth still looks flat. Therefore they believed there was a boundary, an end, somewhere. I can just imagine it now, video-game style, where the explorer hacks through the bushes, wades through the quagmire, fighting off lions and snakes only to discover a huge fucking iron wall in front of him and realising he’s another victim of control like everyone else. But no. Anyway, the reason why assuming is bad is because people carry it on as read and as a concrete belief. The Renaissance is a great example, with Galen – he said (copied from the Greek idea of the 4 humours…what have the Romans ever done for us? XD) that the body must be balanced – bile, blood, sweat and mucus. Therefore, too much sweat meant too much blood for example because the body was red (makes sense right?) so the victim was bled. Too much mucus and the victim was made to sweat, etc. People believed this until the late 18th Century. This was from one guy who copied Hippocrates in the first place in the 400s who said this and no-one had proof against it. Then Virchow comes in and says ‘uh no you’re wrong this is disproved by my cellular pathology, every cell comes from another cell therefore diseases are not due to the imbalance in different types of bacteria’ but no-one believes him until he has concrete proof – even then he has a hard time of it and many don’t believe in his proof, because of the traditional element of belief. This is why belief in things you don’t know about is wrong – laissez-faire I think, because when it comes to a country 1/5 the size of the world invading a tiny one because of the tiny one’s beliefs are that they need to bomb the infidels…you get the idea…

The last one of course shows that people were first of all oblivious to time because they had a hard enough deal of trying to get something to eat.

Colour was the next point – people went mental over this – colour is what has been socially defined and is only due to the light waves being processed differently in our eyes – most animals have black and white vision because their optic cable is different to ours (I think it’s the optic cable, that or the retina, can’t remember). Colour is the human’s perception of light and no-one else’s – another example being the wasp, who can see in ultraviolet vision. The point was that even though people understood this was the truth they still refused to believe in it. And these are the fundamentals of human history.

Beliefs are there to be undermined. I sure hope that my beliefs and all others’ will be proved wrong later in human history, because it proves we’re getting somewhere. However, it brings the question up – what is the final belief? It seems to be the answer to life.

I don’t think we’ll ever find the final belief. We’ll keep running around in circles until the guys up in the cosmos (hopefully) poke us in the arse and give the answer to what dark matter is made of.