I didn’t realise until today – heh, well I suppose that makes it final doesn’t it.
I have exams in an hour or so – I don’t need to revise therefore I won’t. Doesn’t that just make it so annoying? I will never be anything because I don’t try hard enough. I’ll always be a jack of all trades – and a master of none.
I’m going to buy Rock Band after Christmas and trade my education for the completion of all the tracks.
They played Shut Me Up at Pendulum last night. I thought of you.
xx
I had an awesome dream about having a goatee. I want a goatee now, I just wish I could pull it off.
Pendulum tonight, finally some music I can listen to on campus.
It’s rum time, pretty much just woke up but…eh.
It feels like I’ve slipped into another dimension. I see people by chance at night and by day I was asleep. It feels nice but it just feels a bit weird.
I just wish it could go back for a little while. At the same time while I’ve realised that being here is ok as long as I have excessive alcohol contents and bags of drugs, it’d be nice just to be younger again so I could see where I suddenly turned into some weirdo. I really don’t feel right in my own skin, I guess I’ll just have to find a way to come to terms with it.
I tried to start a fight while blind drunk last night, apparently. It probably compensates for the complete lack of anger in anything else – the complete lack of surprise at all. I wish something bad happened to me to make up for the amount of apathy in me.
I’m officially nocturnal – I woke up at 5:15pm when it had just turned dark here. I actually managed to sleep through the hangover.
So I was thinking earlier – the drink and the weed – is that it? Because it’s really hard to just relax these days for me. I dunno, I’m just being stupid.
Ok, just got a text from Chazz saying he just got whacked to the floor hitting a bouncer. Now that’s relaxing, I know some other people just act like the same dickhead I do.
Anyway, I’ve not really had a good chat about anything on this thing here, and I haven’t been all sunshine either, so now I’m just going to talk about Lee Evans.
Lee Evans would not know slapstick comedy if it John-Cleese walked up to him and told him he knows nothing of his work. Then thrown a pie at him. Lee Evans works purely on funny noises imitating the same mindset of people he’s appealing to. Lee Evans sings too much, and his voice is just too high in general. How Lee Evans can sell out Apollo Theatre is beyond me, and how he can get people to stay is probably less of a mystery because he locked the doors. Now, I sat for 2 and a half hours with people trying to laugh along with them – yes, when you’ve had a few joints watching the funny man on the screen sound like a supermarket scanner is funny, but he takes the mick out of things that aren’t funny, and I don’t quite get it. Like he talks about how much security there is about – it’s not really funny because it takes a lot of organisation and man-hours to actually make sure him and the rest of his hick cult following aren’t blown up by Middle-Eastern madmen.
Dunno where I’m going with that so I’ll leave it for a while.
If I finish this year it’ll be a miracle because I’ve done no work…basically just slept and drank. Speaking of money, I’m rolling in it. Mwahah. I need to call The Works.
I could do it. There’s too many marks but I could do it.
I just feel so down. I spoke to a girl who was talking about her friend who just jumped out of his 13th-storey window 3 years ago…all I really thought about was how he was so lucky to have the guts to do it. I mean, to have nothing to live for and just throw it away like your own body. I’d love that feeling of utter hopelessness. You look around and see all these people who do the same things day in and out and don’t even notice it. I notice every single little fucking thing I do similar to everyone, down to the last breath and the last footstep down every road. I am the same as everyone else and I can’t change a thing about that and it just makes me feel so easy to throw away.
Maybe it’s the same feeling he had. Maybe he felt like he should do it to make his life better. To commit suicide is the exact opposite yet the pain in his mind must have been so great. Again, I emphasise about in a way how lucky he is to leave and never come back.
I’m just too much of a coward to do it and it makes me feel sick about myself.
I miss you too. I didn’t think my eyes were really that great. Don’t even know if it was drunken or not.
Still, I’ll be seeing you soon.
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.
Listen to dubstep.
Get a small shiver down my spine as I lower everything.
Play with it. I shiver some more, make the moment last longer.
Breath deeply.
It doesn’t matter if I’m 2,500 miles away, I’ll still find a way to do it.
And as I lower it down, I know I’ll feel better. At least for tonight.
