Rambling - 23/02/04 - Choo choo. I am very very very bored. Moo. I wish that I knew how it felt to be free. Yes I wish that I knew how it felt to be free. Help me, I'm stuck in a room of insanity with insane people. Arghhhhhhhhh! I can't handle this. Just gotta get out. Just gotta get right out of here. Born free...mr zebra don't eat my hat. I'm too young to go to australia. How can I keep on being an elf when I chopped off my ear? Picasso syndrome...it rocks.
Depressed rambling - 11/03/04 - Well, I failed Chemistry really badly - seriously - got an E. Biology wasn't so bad: a C, but not what I wanted. I'm retaking Biology and want to drop Chemistry. I stopped crying, but I still feel pretty bad about it. The guys have, as ever, been great about it, and made me feel much better, but still there's the underlying (and probably correct) feeling that I can't do this and I'm crap. With chemistry at least. I'm kind of hopeful about Biology that I can get better and will do better on the retake. I have no such hope with the Chemistry. If I fail again, I think I'll just get massively depressed. I don't want to go home tonight because I'll have to tell my mum and she'll kill me, no doubt. I'm not sure whether to tell her tonight, I've got work and I know she'll want to talk about it. I might tell her on Saturday maybe? I don't know anymore. I'm kind of...cold inside. If I could go home and knew that my mum would give me a hug and tell me it was all right, then I'd be okay. Part of the problem, as well as being disappointed in myself beyond belief, is that I know my mum'll be disappointed. What can I do? Nothing will help.
22/04/04 - You'd think that as time went by, I'd have learned not to pay a damn bit of attention to my emotions. But nooo. Back again. I don't really know what I'm expected to do about it. Nothing, I suppose. I wish Gian'd shut up though. It's really upsetting me, and though I know he's only teasing, it...bothers me. Ha ha, was reading through the 'I hate you' e-mails from Jonesy. Bothered me more than I thought. I can't actually believe anyone thinks that of me. I'm not dishonest, I don't just play around. Ah well. Better get back to malaria...
Cultured Rambling - 29/04/04 - My new project is to read all of Dante's 'Divine Comedy' before the end of lower sixth. Got about 1/40 of the way through the Inferno...god it's long. To be honest, I really need it in a book form, but that would involve me looking for and finding and buying it - and I don't have the time or money for that. If anyone can find me a book of the Divine Comedy, I'd appreciate it. And no, I don't want any biographies of the band, or some crappy thing by Shakespeare. The ORIGINAL Divine Comedy, please. What I really like about it is how accessible it is. I mean, it's hundreds of years old, and yet:
"Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost"
Is relevant to everyone's life, because everyone has found themselves lost on the journey of their life. Another bit I liked:
"He seemed as if against me he were coming
With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger,
So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;"
Everyone should read this, it's fantastic.
Also - I'd really like to go and see one of Stravinky's ballets, especially 'The Rite of Spring', but I'm not sure it's even performed anymore. 'The Firebird' also attracts me, got some gorgeous uplifting solos - like the horn solo at the finale just seems to...shimmer. But the bassoon solo at the beginning of 'The Rite of Spring' I've got to say is sublime. Ridiculously high of course, but still, amazing. I have NO interest in seeing anyone else play the bloody Mozart Clarinet Concerto (i.e. the one for A Clarinet). I really hate Mozart. Overrated....grumble grumble...
04/05/04 - I'd really like to be alone, and yet at the same time, I get depressed when I'm alone. I need some time to think, to get all this crap out my head and let me sleep again. I need to be able to focus on my exams again. Dammit.
19/05/04 - First exam was yesterday - things went OKAY, I think. Got General Studies today - a joke to be frank. But never mind. I'm not going to revise for it though. I think everyone's in their physics practical right now - which is annoying for me sitting in the library alone. I'm expecting Mrs Kozinsky and her amazing 'SHUSH!' capabilities to criticise the volume of my typing soon. But anyway. Everything's now pretty much sorted, and I don't feel like going on MSN anymore due to - well - one reason, but I'm not going into it. That's really a good thing for the exams anyway. I don't need to talk to my friends anyway.
I do however, need to talk to Pym. I hope I see him sometime before the end of the day - some chess thing again. When is it not with Pym? Either that or maths.
I sometimes despair of finding another literary I can talk to. Books and their deeper meaning seem beyond my undoubtedly intelligent, but lamentably scientific friends. But I'm not complaining really.
In other news, I found out why my wrist has been hurting. It's due to how I've been typing - not helped by how high the keyboards are at school. I can't remember what my mum called it. Got to make a conscious effort to change it though. Ah well...
22/05/04 - I suddenly remembered it as I was thinking of these angry e-mails I write in my head, and then never write down. The thing is, I do get angry, sometimes VERY angry. When I do, I find a quiet corner of my day - usually on the bus ride home, and compose an angry e-mail. Then, when I get home I have the choice of writing. But by then I've alleviated all my angry feelings and don't have to write it. Once, I did, and it was lame because the fire in my words had died.
So, anyway, onto the point. It was when I was thinking of this that I realised that horrible, almost drunk feeling of when you feel really hurt and alone. And unless you've actually experienced it, you'll think I'm just talking about feeling lonely, or upset. No. They're different emotions. This feeling - you can barely remember after you have it. You feel resentful against the whole human race. It's the feeling you get when you're sitting alone at the front of the coach, while all the other kids sit at the back with their friends. It's that burning shame that you can't explain when someone refuses to sit next to you, and when someone else asks with a slight laugh: "Why? What's wrong with Katherine?" they reply with a twist of their mouth and move away. It's when everyone mourns together, and you mourn alone, with no-one's shoulder to cry on. And you think it gets easier, but it never does. You suddenly realise there's something horribly wrong with you, and you just want to go home and be a child again, and have your mum hold you as she always used to when you were hurt. But the best you can think of is crawling into bed and crying bitterly for hours and holding your teddy, or your pillow, or just your knees, longing for human contact. Bitterly hating these people who do not hate you or like you, but merely do not notice you, and yet having tortuous fantasies about them being your friends and looking after you.
And those who are naturally popular will not know. And those who do know it might have forgotten, because it's such an all consuming misery that you try as hard as you can to bury it. It's when you're the one babysitting your teacher's daughter because he's going to the birthday party that everyone you know except you was invited to. You can't hate them, yet you do. You can't love them, yet you do. You long, and you dream, and all in vain.
What's the point of this. Well, perhaps, I'm wrong about it being all in vain. The burning shame of being forgotten doesn't actually stay, and when you find where you belong, you won't be forgotten. Really, this message isn't meant to depress, but to give hope. Who to though? Well, just think on it.
23/05/04 - As we're onto the philosophical issues - love. I don't think I should be allowed to do it. I'm not quite sure about this one - and I'm not sure anyone ever is, or ever will be. I tend to love ideally, which is of course, VERY dangerous. You need always to see people as they really are, but if you're attracted to someone, that's very difficult. Of course, no-one can ever see what the future holds, so you can't know if little faults will become big ones and take over your life. I am a firm believer that true love lasts forever. BUT - I also believe that true love is so rare, or so hard to cultivate, that it rarely happens. Really, the chances of couples ever happening seems disturbingly unlikely. It always tends to happen that one will love the other more. And that of course, creates problems.
I'm not, of course, suggesting I know anything at all about relationships really. I've had one, and that lasted a month, so if you really want to know about this stuff, don't ask me. If you want to know about unrequited love, then by all means.
However, I digress. The important question in all of this, is why love at all? I mean, really, it is probably the most distracting, painful experiences that we will ever consider, and yet we continue doing so. I suppose that if the need for procreation hadn't been programmed into us, things would be different, but then again, maybe not. LOVE and LUST are of course massively different things. LUST is surely the need for procreation - but then, what is LOVE? Perhaps just a word. "Some would never fall in love had they not heard of love." Carol Ann Duffy writes in "Nostalgia" (all right, it's a poem I'm studying for AS - it's still apt). So perhaps that's it. Maybe it's just a word, an expectation. I was asked in year 8 if I was a lesbian because I wasn't attracted to any lads. Bear in mind, I was only 12 - but still. We live in a society where we are obsessed with romance and finding love. Maybe without all of these pressures, we wouldn't fall in love, and all of this nonsense about "All you need is love" would be restricted to a few. I mean, really, many of us, especially of my age, claim to have been in love at least once in their lives. But how do we KNOW? We compare it to how we feel about others, and if we like someone more than the other friends we have, then we're naturally in love. Surely not. I have many male friends, and I will admit I like some better than others. That DOESN'T mean I'm in love with them - at least I hope not - it only means that I respect them and enjoy their company.
So what is love then? I disagree with all this "Butterflies in stomach" crap, the way your "heart yearns". Whatever. TRUE love. The only way to find that is between parent and child. THAT is the only TRUE kind of love. Absolutely unconditional. See a mother or father return from a long trip to see their child, and it will touch you more than anything else. So maybe we should leave the domain of 'love' to parents and children, and settle for good-old fashioned lust attached to respect and friendship for all other encounters that have previously been assigned the spurious word 'Love'.
Feel free to disagree.
More controversial statements - 27/05/04 - Another thing key in my philosophy, my absolute fear of growing old. To be honest, I have minimal fear of death. Perhaps it's just my perpetual condition, I'm not depressed, but quite often an eternal sleep sounds great. I'm not a believer in heaven or hell, and I have mild preference for the idea of reincarnation. But I wouldn't particularly mind nothingness after we die. I really can't understand a fear of death. It's just what happens, we all will die. I can understand fearing the death of those you love (I mean that in a loose term, of course), but fearing your own death? Seems rather silly.
My great fear, as I said, is growing old. And incapable. See, every Christmas I go with Mr Crawforth, Mrs Smith, Mr Platford and the Darby Singers and go and sing Christmas Carols at Old People's Homes. And I hate it. They're treated with no dignity and would probably be better off dead. I'd far rather die now than get to the point where I can't go to the toilet by myself, and where people 30 years younger than myself patronise me. I'd also hate to be the "Ooh, hello Gladys!" Type of old woman. This isn't just a prejudice. This is a deep rooted fear. As a white, British female, I probably have more rights and respect than most other groups in the world, and more rights if not respect than a man. To be old...any and all respect is taken from you, and hospitals feel you're just taking up space.
Which is why I'm dying before I get old.
Again, feel free to disagree.
28/05/04 - I've noticed it's only when I'm on holiday/study leave that I deal with these 'big' questions. Like: my philosophy on life. I believe we are all here for a purpose. Sadly, it's a belief based on the 'Gaia' theory from Final Fantasy 7. Okay, so basically, the earth has a kind of 'spirit'. Every life lives its life, and when it dies, the life returns to the earth's spirit imbued with the experiences it gained on earth.
This won't make any sense to you.
Speaking of love - 30/05/04 - Since posting that message last week, I've had a general outcry of disagreement. It seems that everyone is firmly entrenched in their belief in love. I shouldn't judge, and won't.
But, I'd like to say that I didn't say I don't believe in love completely. I just said that most people think they're in love when it's not, it's just lust with friendship and respect. As I say, I think true love, between man and woman anyway (or man and man, or woman and woman, I'm no homophobe), but true love is very rare.
This is not discounting the love between friends etc. But then, as we all know, that's very different to romantic love.
In other news - shall we have a look at my political stance? See, before I came to Adams I was mildly in support of Labour, but didn't really know much about politics. HOWEVER. Since coming to Adams and making friends with all these right wingers, I've found how little I'm influenced by those around me. In fact, if anything, I strive to be as different as possible. So since coming to Adams and meeting all these damn fascists, I've been driven further left than ever. And as Roe's no doubt extremely accurate political testing test tells me, I'm socialist. Which doesn't altogether surprise me. I actually almost have Communist leanings, except for the fact that I'm too realistic to see it working. See, I come from a long line of left-wingers. My maternal grandfather was the leader of a trade union (a highly educated, intelligent man may I add). And I have always had a lot of respect for him, even though I never met him (he died before I was born). But that's not really the reason for my views. Really, I think the Conservative point of view is so...selfish. Margaret Thatcher: "Let the tall poppies grow." - which means of course, the rich can get richer, and the poor? Well they can just die in a corner somewhere. Who needs them anyway? What good were they doing to society?
The fact is - who cares about society? Who is friends with society? Who is the mother of society? WHY DOES IT MATTER? PEOPLE are all that matter to ANYONE, and yet the Conservative point of view is that the good of the nation, or the richest, or best yet, the QUEEN should come first. The people should always be the main priority. ALL people, not just those useful to us. I find the Right wing views immoral and heartless. No offence to you fascist bastards.
05/06/04 - I had work last night. See, every Friday I work from about 6:30 pm to about 1 am, and get a taxi back. Work pays for the taxi, they're very good like that. Usually, the taxi driver will make a few cursory remarks: "Was it busy tonight?", "How long have you been working there?" - that kind of banal small talk. Usually they'll have some crap radio station on: Heart FM, Beacon FM, that sort of thing. Last night the taxi driver had Queen on, and as a big Queen fan, I was very pleased. The driver was chatty, was telling me about his night and so on. Just then a cover version of "Another One Bites the Dust" comes on - Freddie Mercury and some rap group rapping over the top. Being a Queen purist, I wasn't particularly impressed, and neither was the taxi driver. But for different reasons. He said something like: "Oh I can't stand this track. These black bastards singing 'I'm gonna kill your family, rape your mother' - god, hate it. The ------- should be thrown out of the country." Needless to say I was appalled and felt really very disgusted that I was sitting anywhere near this man. That wasn't the end of it either. Just then "Too Much Love Will Kill You" came on - one of my favourite tracks, really heartfelt - one Freddie Mercury wrote about his bisexuality. The man then informed me that he hated this track too: "Too much love will kill you - killed him, didn't it!" And then proceeded to inform me that when AIDs was first discovered, it originally stood for "Ass-Injecters Death Syndrome" and then told me it "served them right, bloody fags." I was absolutely horrified. I suddenly felt physically sick and desperately wanted to get out of the presence of this disgusting, prejudiced man. I know if I had been anything but white and straight he would have been just as prejudiced against me. I have some very close friends who are black and others who are gay, and being told that by this disgusting man was enough to turn my stomach. If people have these views, they could at least have the decency to keep them to themselves.
07/06/03 - Another thing that irritates me - judging others on appearances. This REALLY gets on my nerves. Why is that people think attractive people are good, kind and honest? To be honest, in my experience, the more attractive a person is, the more of a bitch/bastard they turn out to be.
Why do we persist on being judged by our looks? I've been blessed with relatively plain looks, which means I am completely not bothered about appearance, either in myself or in others. In fact, the most annoying thing you could tell me is that I'm pretty - which incidentally, I'm not. If you're telling me I'm pretty, then you are judging me on my looks, which means you've failed to find anything better about me beyond that. I'd much rather be 'kind' or 'thoughtful' or 'loyal' or 'noble' - because those things matter. I glory in the fact that those who are beautiful will someday lose their looks and then be left with nothing. These girls who never bothered in school because it seemed so much more important to do their hair and make-up to make sure the boys noticed them. These boys who spend just as much time, and probably more money trying to look good. These airheads who get by on their looks. It's really ridiculous.I also think 'attractive' is a misleading word. Attractive is really supposed to mean you're attracted to somebody - and those who are called 'attractive' are usually physically good-looking. I tend only to call people I find personally attractive, attractive - as physically attractive really doesn't matter.
The thing is, the views of men and women tend to be different. Going back to the 'originally' argument, we still look for a mate based on physical perameters. However, it's far easier for men to tell which women would be best for bearing their children, which is why men are attracted to women with large breasts, wide hips, etc etc. Women on the other hand, base their judgement on one certain part of male anatomy only, and that's generally not on show. So men tend to be more physically discriminative then women, and will far more happily label women 'mingers'. This is partially why men are idiots, but not the only one. However, there's time for that another day. Don't be offended - male race - that was a rather sweeping generalisation...
I will say, I've tried to be unflinching in all of these ramblings - always expressing my true feelings no matter how awkward. This has sometimes been very difficult, especially emotions I try to keep to myself. But somebody has to talk about them.
16/06/04 - Just came back from a sailing trip - Foxterrier. It raised some interesting thoughts for me. Why am I friends with the people I'm friends with? And why are they mostly boys? Well, the answer to last question seems obvious - I went to an all-boys school for sixth form. But that doesn't really explain it. After all, there are 50 other girls in the sixth form - why didn't I make friends with them? Well, in truth, I tried. First few months I spent trying to make friends with the girls. But I don't know, I just failed to...gel. Most girls - no offence to them - seem happy to fit into the plaster cast model. They talk about clothes, shoes, getting drunk, boyfriends, actors...you know. It's such a ballet with them, it's so much HARD WORK. I am, to be honest, far more blunt than most girls. I can't be bothered with all the crap
that most girls wade through. I've never really been one to follow the flock. I don't like going to parties and getting so drunk I wet myself, throw up twice and remember nothing in the morning. I don't care about clothes - not really anyway. My musical tastes are far-reaching and fairly unique. I say what I want to say and I don't make excuses for it. I am who I am, and I have never changed that for anyone. Yes. I talk to myself. Yes, I sing constantly. I like classical music, I like Jazz, I like REM and Queen over all other types of rock. When I'm happy I smile and sing. When I'm sad I smile and don't sing. I try to be kind to everyone, even if I don't like them. And, above all - I'm a geek. I just am. So maybe we're coming the crux of my argument. I'm a geek. So all my friends are geeks. I'm the only girl in my group of friends because I'm the only girl at Adams who is a geek. I mean - I'm not self-conscious about who I am and what I like. Quite simply, I'm friends with who I'm friends with because they're all individuals. Rather than trying to be just like the "cool" crew, we are all individuals. We like what we like, and don't care who knows it. I mean, it's not like we like the same things. Pym's passions are maths and chess. Neil's are snooker and geology. Tom's are hockey and politics. Mine are music and literature. We are all VERY varied, and all geeks, but just because our passions lie in different areas doesn't mean that we're not united by our rejection of the norm. So really, this is why I have the friends I do. Because I'm a geek. And no-one else would accept me.
19/06/04 - In all honesty, in all I say...despite what I say, I'm a romantic. I'm swayed far too easily by music, far too many pieces of music can make me cry where films, books, and every other form of art fail. In all honesty, I believe in true love. Let's face it, true love is what causes every ounce of pure happiness and pure pain in any of our lives. So we come to a stale mate in my beliefs perhaps? Perhaps...the truest love is that which is never expressed. Which is kept within. Let's face it, I'm still a kid, I'm only 17, with hormones rushing around my body. I go to an all-boys school for god's sake. But...I don't know. I can theorise that really love doesn't exist, and let's face it, in a way, we all wish that were true. But I still doubt myself. This is going to be confused.
I guess...true love is that which is unselfish. Where your tears are those of happiness if your special someone is happy. Where you would willingly die for them. Is that too romantic perhaps? Is it something too far-fetched to believe in? God I hope not. Love isn't the jealous, possessive, angry, ugliness that comes with a relationship. Love is perhaps the trueness and pureness of feeling that comes for the hopelessly unrequited emotions. Or maybe all love needs to be unrequited to learn to be unselfish.
Perhaps because I live surrounded by unrequited love it is that I know this. Unrequited love is certainly the most painful, but if so it is also the noblest. It's....these things that will never be said, the words that will never be spoken, and yet the pureness of feeling behind them that holds everything I know about love.
24/06/04 - You know, I'm still assuming I have an audience here. I write all this crap, and I fear unless I tell them to, my readers will be a lamentably small group. Ah well, this is really for my benefit anyway.
I've got to the time of year where I offend all my friends because I want to be alone. Really, I do have a time of year. I know most girls have a time of month. Not me. Around the end of school year, I get in solitary moods. This doesn't mean a bad mood necessarily, I can be perfectly happy, but I'd just rather be on my own, walking through a park, than talking to my friends. I like to walk in the summer. Okay. Sometimes I like company. If I do want company in my solitary time of year, it's someone I can laugh and argue with. That means it's almost as good as talking to myself.
So okay. To any of my friends, if you ever read this without me telling you to: don't be offended if in the next few weeks I order you to give me space. It's just that time of year - I tend to upset everyone around now. If you don't believe me, ask Hannah about London, 2002. I was such a bitch. Everyone. Give me a little space at the moment. If I'm sitting alone, reading, come and say hi, but then leave me alone.
That is all.
07/07/04 - Well... I've come back on now because it's practically the only time I've had to myself of late. Now is the MAD END OF TERM RUSH. That is, with band, we are doing something every day, culminating in a competition in London tomorrow and on Friday. I currently need to be getting ready to go to band for half past 12. But I'll stay with you for a little while.
You might think that all this stuff I have to do at the End of Term is stressing me out. Actually, it's not. The great thing about being busy is I don't have time to think about anything else. So I've been feeling pretty happy for the past few weeks because I just don't have the time to sit back and reflect. And when I do, I can dispel any bad feelings with music and friends. I seem to have found a happy medium with most of my friends at the moment.
I would say something more about love at this point, but I'm afraid all my philosophical ideas have dried up. I've lost the cold, frustrated anger at love of my first posting, and I'm no longer feeling as sentimental and romantic as in my last love post. At the moment, I have little belief in love. But I know that will change - life will make sure of that. Ever seen the film "Down With Love". Great one, that.
11/07/04 - I went to London to play in the National Finals Of Music For Youth last Friday. I'd borrowed Tom's mini disk player for the journey (thanks for that, by the way), and was listening to the random lot of rock he had on there. I liked a lot - REM, Nickelback, etc. I didn't like the System of a Down stuff he had on there. But anyway, to my point. There was one song on there called: "Behind Blue Eyes". This was significant to my trip in 2 ways. a) I realised I actually liked it, was disturbed that I liked anything by Limp Bizkit, and was relieved to find it was originally by The Who. b) I found a particular truth in one of the verses on the way home. This verse was:
"No-one knows what it's like,
To feel these feelings,
Like I do,
And I blame you."
See, we played in the finals, and got a Gold award. Fantastic, you may be thinking. Well, yes. But...okay, I'll go back a bit.
We came offstage from playing, and I was quite happy, it had gone quite well and I had enjoyed myself. I then spoke to Simon, who said that Mr P had been disappointed. I felt my good mood falter. Later, after Mr P actually talked to us and told us he was disappointed with the way it had gone, despite us getting awarded the gold with it, I felt downright bad-tempered. I was depressed and in probably the worst moods I have ever been in. I felt like the award we had just won meant nothing and we'd worked for so long just for a scrap of paper rather than for a good performance. Basically - for these feelings I feel, I blame Mr P.
This isn't having a go at Mr P. Not at all. I completely agree with his point of view, we could have played better. However, I don't think he realises how much sway he has over the band's...or at least my mood. If we had come offstage and Mr P had been tremendously happy with the way we played, I can bet that everyone would have been thrilled, been in an excellent mood and been very happy with how we played. As it is, no-one is now satisfied, and all of us have been left with a feeling that at the last time we ever played at the Festival Hall in London, we played terribly.
As a side note, I'd like to apologise to all those I snapped at or argued with while we were in London or on the way back. I didn't mean to get angry, and it won't happen again. Well, it might, but I'll be sorry then too.
The influence that people you respect can have on you is immense. If you respect someone, I mean TRULY respect someone, their opinion is all important and you try to change yourselves in little ways to be more like them. Which is why it's hard to "remain yourself" when you're not really sure who that is. I personally am an amalgamation of the personalities of the people I most admire.
Not easy, is it?
16/07/04 - You know, my favourite poem (and that's saying something considering I'm not a fan of the genre) is "It ain't what you do, it's what it does to you" by Simon Armitage. You know when you're trying to describe an emotion, and it's impossible? This poem manages to fail so beautifully to describe an emotion that it succeeds. The last stanza I think I love more than anything else:
"And I guess that the tightness in the throat
and the tiny cascading sensation
somewhere inside us are both part of that
sense of something else. That feeling, I mean."
The thing is, in the end, words are futile, meaningless little sounds. And yet somehow we have to convey everything about ourselves in them. It's why conversing in words alone is hard - why MSN conversations are always lacking something. We need the emotional content behind them. Emotions. Hmm. I guess, even though I've philosophised about how much easier it would be without them - we need them, as otherwise there really WOULD be no point living.
Isn't it weird though? Trying to express yourself in words, when however much of a high percentage of communication is body language and the rest is intonation in voice.
I cried last night for the first time in ages. And for the first time in a LONG time, absolutely involuntarily. As in, I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to. I don't actually even know why. I'm just glad Ste was there so I could just have a hug and cry.
02/08/04 - Have you noticed how intimate the night is?
No - I don't actually mean it like that. But...you know...remember the last time you were sharing a hotel room with someone you were friends with but didn't know that well? You know how you'd spend hours talking to them and really getting to know them in the night when you were supposed to be getting to sleep? Don't you think it's weird how much easier it is to just talk for hours at night. Especially when it's dark, but even if the light's still on, if you're alone, the night is a wonderful, calm time.
But it does stun me how suddenly close you can get to a person just by spending the night with them (again, not meant like that...) - just by sitting up at 1 am talking tiredly with a friend who you always thought you knew, but never really did until you spent those few hours talking that pass like minutes.
03/08/04 - Have you ever had a piece of music that you connected with a person? Whether because you recognise something of that person in the lyrics or because you and that person have spent some time together, listening to that music.
See, I always do it. For some people, it's easy to think them up. For Ste - it's "Unexpected Song" or "All I Ask of You" by Andrew Lloyd Webber, simply because we always used to sing them together. For Mr P it's Nimrod by Elgar because we both share a love of the piece. For Tom it's Nightswimming, even though from the REM album he copied for me, At My Most Beautiful was my favourite. I guess it's Nightswimming because I can just remember a time with him singing it in Room J, and closing his eyes when singing: "They cannot see me naked"... With Pym, it's All the Small Things by Blink 182, perhaps only because we sang it so much at his birthday party. If I think hard, I could think up songs to go with other people, but those are the ones that spring to mind. There are, of course, other songs for places or trips we've been on. Room J has two songs - Bohemian Rhapsody and Somebody to Love by Queen, simply because we all sing them when they're playing. The theme song for London 2000 was We Are the Champions by Queen...
I could go on, but need I? Should I have even started? Ah well...
31/08/04 - If you love someone, you'll let them go. Perhaps not a new sentiment, but certainly a true one. I think the time I've spent pondering love has allowed me to evolve this idea. True love is unselfish, I've said this. But...perhaps I was a little narrow in saying it only applied to unrequited love. My first relationship overall didn't go well, while any unrequited feelings have remained true.
True love then (my definitive explanation), is that which considers yourself and your happiness always secondary to the object of your desires'. However much you may want someone, if you want their happiness above everything else, then you truly love them. It may not be easy, but love simply CAN'T be selfish, love is and has to be for the other person.
Something else. Have you ever thought about these moments that you'll never forget, but that you'll also never share? Where you remember every little detail, everything you thought and felt? Those moments that are so precious to you that if you told anybody else you'd feel them leaving you like grains of sand being blown from a beach.
11/09/04 - Everything is so fleeting. It's something that bothers me so much. I've always tried to hold onto every memory, every moment. And, of course, I always fail. I find REM best for summing up all of this. Listen to "Nightswimming", "Half a World Away" or "Leaving New York" and you may get what I mean.
It's just that...I sit here in terror thinking that this time next year, I may never see my best friends again. Everything changes, but...soon it'll all be gone...
The odd thing is I think I'll be able to handle it. Change - is change, and I've always happily accepted that. It's just...right now...I couldn't bear to be parted from them. Life and death - it's constant change...we have to adjust...
19/09/04 - I was thinking. The peculiarly English folk legend is almost religion.
Okay, let me clarify. What is it that makes the bible and the legend of King Arthur so different? The fact that King Arthur had nothing to do with God. If he had, perhaps we wouldn't be Christian, maybe we'd be Arthurian. Or maybe it's just that King Arthur is so peculiarly English that it couldn't be a worldwide religion (i.e. King Arthur returns in England's need rather than the world's, as in Jesus). And anyway - the bible. Who wrote it? Okay, supposedly it is Matthew, Mark, Luke, John - but what if it was simply a work of fiction like the Legend of King Arthur written by a scholar in the, say, early 1st century. The Legend of Jesus Christ.
23/09/04 - Throughout my life I have many teachers. Those appointed to teach me in school have taught me the educational basics, of course. There are others, who have taught me things about myself and the world, and those I consider far more important to me. Only very select and very important people in my life figure as my mentors. My mum, my dad and Mr Platford are probably the only people who figure in that list. These people I consider to have taught me the most important lessons, to have prepared me best for the world and its wonders and miseries. And of course, mostly its wonders.
Having said that, there are more people than that who have taught me about myself. Hannah, Stephen, Jonesy, Tom are the friends I can think of that for better or for worse have impacted greatly on my way of thinking and beliefs about myself and my world, though perhaps not guided it as my mentors have. And then...there are my siblings. Before I start, I should mention that my brother, Owain, is 10 years older than me, and my older sister, Rhiannon, is 7 years older than me. As a result, I've learnt a lot from them just by observation. You see, in my family, Owain is viewed as somewhat of the drop out - he never worked hard at school or College, and only made it through one year of the University he went through clearing to arrive at before leaving with a massive amount of debt. Owain now has a mediocre job which he doesn't really enjoy. For both myself and my little sister Faye, it's always been a dire criticism if my mum tells us we'll 'end up like Owain'. Rhiannon, however, is viewed as far more successful - while she didn't work at school either, and never even considered going to Uni, she's found a good job that she enjoys in HR and is now working through a course at University part time. However, I now have to point out the difference in personality between Owain and Rhiannon. Owain is possibly one of the most content people I could ever meet. He has little drive or ambition, but is extremely happy where he is, with what he has. Rhiannon, meanwhile, is full of ambition, and as such has never been content. It's strange to think that my sibling with more quantifiable success should be less happy with it - and yet that's the situation.
As a result, my aspirations are different from either Owain's or Rhiannon's. I fully intend to be successful in life, but if I can share in Owain's temperament then I will have everything in life.
27/09/04 - I discovered a band recently called Dashboard Confessional - their great website is www.dashboardconfessional.com and you can listen to some of their music if you go to the download page (better if you have broadband). Incidentally, when I say I discovered them, I don't mean I got them signed etc. What I mean is none of my friends introduced me to them - I found them on my own after listening to 'As Lovers Go' on the Shrek 2 soundtrack. I've got to say, they're fab. They don't have quite the maturity of, say, REM, but then they are a youthful band. They have some damn good music, and their lead singer is a good looking guy, if he does bite his lip a tad too often.
Do I have anything significant to say? Well, perhaps. One of their songs, perhaps my favourite, is called Hands Down. It's romantic and has a great video. But that's not important. One of the lines is: "Hands down, this is best day I can ever remember." And that stuck in my mind. Today, when I went into school, I was singing that (or rather, whispering, I've kind of lost my voice), and it struck me, what was the best day I can remember? The fact is, I can't remember any better than today. And it wasn't a special day. I went into school and talked to my friends for half an hour before school like I do every day. I had English first thing, and studied 'The Remains of the Day', like I always do. Biology was cancelled, so I messed about on computers, like I often do. The rest of the day unfolded like that - and yet, I can't think how much better it could have got. I suppose it's all an attitude, the best day. I'm almost permanently optimistic (not quite Pym, but close), and as long as nothing really goes wrong, what should change the fact that it's the best day I could ever remember? There are things to ruin what you want to be a perfect day - an ordinary day can be wonderful if spent in the right company.
And believe me guys, you are the right company, I couldn't imagine better.
21/10/04 - Thinking of the past and my childood, and one name appears in my mind. Immediately: Rowena Wilson. She was my best friend from the age of about 4 to at least 10 years old, and was the only best friend I had ever had until I met Tom 7 years later. I randomly wrote this in Biology today, inspired by the rambling, ungrammatical, but rather beautiful writing of Michael Stipe you can find here: http://www.remhq.com/flash/live/live_bspass.html
His way of writing rather reminds me of the music he writes, so I gave it a try.
And I was standing in the half light across the road from where we saw the endless evenings turn to dusk and hid my shoes in the long grass and hid from the cars and smelt the rich musk of the grass and pollen and felt the young evening's balm on our naked arms and fought that time when we screamed obscenities and scratched at each other's face and Jill had to get your mother and the tree I climbed when you had gone to try and look for you and imagined I could see you new house and new friends and new life and the pond where we imagined we could get to the island where it would be magical and the time I got there when you were already gone and it was the same as the other side and the days when we'd argue and make up and the time you phoned to say sorry and told me jokes. And then I left.
25/10/04 - Music. I've never really spoken about it before. Not really. To be honest, it's the most important thing in my life, including family and friends, however horrible that might sound. To be honest, I couldn't live without music. As the song goes: "Music was my first love, and it'll be my last." I've got to say, for me that's true. My usernames on MSN are almost always lyrics, I can't do anything without thinking a song in my head, and usually humming or singing it. Music is life. Honestly.
Also, betrayal is an interesting emotion to cope with. Very hard. Hurts like hell and won't go away. Funny, I still can't forgive him, and the moment's passed, it doesn't really matter anymore. I've made gestures to show that I have, but in my heart, I can't. I don't know if I ever will.
Also - the funny thing about me is that I accept things people say on face value. And yet I expect other people to be able to tell when I'm lying. I do actually lie to people a lot - not serious lies, but just to save them from my hurt. So that they're not uncomfortable. It's funny how much I do that.
I'm currently facing a dilemma of sorts, and I don't know what to do. What's more important, passion or loyalty? I need to speak to Tom, but my internet's been down for ages so I haven't been able to catch him on MSN.
Also, (another one) I listened to Falls to Climb by REM (of course) last night. Gorgeous song. I love the way REM can inject pain into love, the way their romantic songs aren't quite romantic.
28/10/04 - I perhaps shouldn't do it, but I always let those I love get away with murder. Even if they hurt me a great deal, I will sometimes never mention it, and just let them get away. Mostly, it's because no matter what they've done, they've always been there in the past and I can't forget that. Or maybe it's because by being angry at them, I know I'm upsetting myself more than them.
Honestly? I don't think people actually care THAT much about me. I mean - to a certain extent they do, and if I died I'm sure at least someone outside my family would cry. But I think to the greatest extent, people don't actually care. When I go to University, no-one will really care that much. Except me.
01/11/04 - I was thinking last night while I was in the car on the way back from Neil's house. Does anyone else use car journies to think? But, I was just thinking how much I've changed since leaving Abraham Darby. Not just in happiness, obviously I'm happier now, I have the best friends ever and enjoy my subjects. But...in other ways. In love. Back in those days, I had no demands of love. I didn't ever expect it for myself, 5 years of lads randomly insulting my appearance had destroyed any belief that the opposite sex would find me attractive. In those days, if the one I loved looked at me and smiled, or even said a few words to me, I'd be happy for days. I could stare at the back of his head and be in bliss. If we spoke on MSN then I'd still be nervous and shaking on my keyboard. It's kind of sad now I think back that my conceptions of love have changed. There was something so innocently beautiful about those days, always hopelessly unrequited, but I didn't care. Nowadays I need *him* (and that's a general male rather than anyone specific) to talk to me, to make me laugh, to pay me attention, for me to think "I love this guy".
I'm getting very nostalgiac nowadays. I still can't find my leaving book, and that's a shame because there were so many things written in there that touched me deeply.
18/11/04 - Where have all the good men gone?
It's a valid question, and not really one that I expect an answer to. (Unlike some smart arses who suggest Paris or New York). I think we women have ruined men to an extent. Of course we don't want some boorish slob who lusts over us. But over the last 70 years, feminism and its ilk has forced men into some subsidiary role. If a woman makes a sexist comment about a man then it's empowering, but a man does the same and it's sexual harassment. Nowadays almost all men are some weak, watered-down version of their former selves. By forcing men to show the world their feminine side, they've turned into pansies. Try to find the 'strong, silent type' nowadays.
I mean honestly, the only good example of a strong yet gentle man you could find nowadays is perhaps Colin Firth (hence his frequent casting in such roles). Sally Harper (Coupling) said it best when she said: "I don't want you to like my personality! I have women to do that!"
I need a hero.
20/11/04 - This one's kind of inspired by a conversation I had with Tom a little while ago. He said something along the lines of: "I find it amusing that you think you know me." - which in a way is true, but not really. The thing is, with everyone, no matter how well you know them, they will keep things inside. There are some people closest to you who you will let in more, but there are still some things hidden in there that will never come out.
On here, I am very honest, and am never usually publicly this honest about my thoughts. And yet, at the same time, none of you know me in the truest sense. You couldn't without me telling you my life story, and that would just bore you. There's so much that I will never tell anyone, even my best friend.
Something that worries me is that I'm boring. The thing is, for my family, I'm very steady and normal. My family is one of extremes, especially evident in my mum and my older sister. My mum is highly introverted and hates to be in the spotlight in any way at all. My older sister is highly extroverted and MUST be in the spotlight, or she gets angry. As for me, I get along in the spotlight and enjoy the attention in a quiet, embarassed kind of way, but don't seek it. My dad is comfortable around others and carves...randomly. My little sister is very witty, she comes out with dry, amusing comments at the more opportune moments and has the best comic timing out of anyone I've ever met. My brother does archery and is making his own chain mail suit for when he gets married. As for me, I'm really crap at talking (I mean really, I talk too fast and mess up words frequently. When I have a cold I'm unintelligible.) I'm not funny or witty, I can never find the words quickly enough (though my mum tried to condole me with - "I laugh well". Yeeeaaahhhh....) I'm one of those boring little kids constantly reading books rather than playing, huge NHS glasses slipping down my nose, who gets embarrassed when anyone talks to them.
It's strange but that's still how I see myself in my mind's eye. That's a picture of myself I have taken in year 7 I think. I have it framed in my bedroom. It reminds me of who I am inside. I'm still that chubby little kid with ugly glasses half the size of her face, masculine looking bobbed hair and hand-me down clothes that looked old fashioned when they were in fashion.
Being boring bothers me sometimes.
23/11/04 - I'm going to shock women all over the world...but I really don't identify with Bridget Jones.
Okay, it's not that I don't enjoy the films, I laughed and cringed and had a great time watching it - and it's Richard Curtis, you know you'll leave feeling all cosy on the inside. But...okay, she's over-weight (x), she smokes (x), she works at a television company (x), and finally, she has two gorgeous guys fighting over her (Big X). I mean, really, how do so many people relate to her? Ah well...
Repression is something that interests me (yes this is a completely different topic if you were wondering). Since studying 'The Remains of the Day' by Kazuo Ishiguro in English, I've started noticing it in people around me, and even in myself. Most of us repress our emotions to an extent, but some a lot more than others. One wonders how healthy that is for a person's state of mind, but then who am I to judge. At the same time, I think some people exaggerate how deep they are, and in fact wear their emotions far closer to the surface than they think, or try to convince others of. It's funny really what other think of me, and how seriously they take me. Those who don't know me at all think I'm very shy and quiet; to people I don't know I'm generally very polite and have a thick veneer. To those who know me a little bit, and if I think they're idiots, then they think I'm very isolationist and am a bit of a bitch to make the point. To those who know me - well, it depends on who they are. To my closest group - Tom, Hannah, Neil, Ryan and Pym - I'm a little bit brash sometimes, slightly violent, but generally friendly.
Of course then, if I'm pissed off with someone, I can be a cold bitch again...
24/11/04 - Normal life isn't noble, or wonderful, or tragic, or romantic. Normal life is just...moments of happiness and times of sadness. Normal life is in the pathetic longing and irredeemable dreams.
Really, the pathos of life is what is most evident. We may have lofty goals, and may achieve some of them, but our life becomes dominated by a sense of this lack of anything special...just this...holding onto life.
The saddest thing I can think of that I've witnessed is not some grand view of hunger in the 3rd World or even the sight of my closest friends close to tears. It was in year 7, in art. There was a girl called Rachel Moss who had hated me since starting school, but was in my art set. We sat at the same table with some other girls, and Rachel said she was going on holiday next week. She was going to Tenerife for two weeks with her Dad, it was going to be great, and she was boasting away and I felt quite jealous. I was, after all, 11, and I had never been further away than France.
The following week, Rachel was in Art as usual. One of the other girls asked her why she wasn't in Tenerife, and she replied that her dad was having to go to a business trip without her. She'd make up these stories all the time and I'd get really annoyed because I knew she was just lying.
It's been 7 years since then, now, and I realise what was happening. There never was a trip to Tenerife, given the location she lived in and her general attitude I doubt her father was even part of a business. It's almost like all these stories were the life she had wanted to live, what she imagined herself doing if things had been different. And it's so pathetic and heart wrenching.
Life is not wonderful, and it is not terrible. Life is so horribly wretched and pitiful. Life is pathetic.
29/11/04 - I realised this morning on the bus that all I've been doing for the past 9 months or so is...waiting. This came as something as a revelation as I hate waiting, and yet there are times when we can't help but do so. And yet, this one time that perhaps I could stop waiting and get going again, I'm holding myself back.
It's kind of sad really.
I was listening to my new Dashboard Confessional CD in Chepstow yesterday, and the line "Chasing the ghost of a good thing" struck me as relevant. That's sad too.
04/12/04 - Seeing as it's that time of year...pantomime. I think the saddest role in any pantomime is that of Buttons in Cinderella. Buttons has been Cinderella's lifelong friend, always there for her, and clearly in love with her. How does it always end? Cinderella marries the handsome prince, who, though handsome, is only interested in her because she's beautiful. Buttons' unrequited love is an issue generally skated over amongst the 'oh no he didn't' and 'look behind you!' of panto, but it always strikes me. I was pleased when the version of Cinderella my primary school did had Buttons marrying Cinderella. The prince is just some haughty aristocrat who happens to be interested by a passing wench who happens to be at his ball.
11/12/04 - Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps I should trust more, but I think I've had enough, and that day was the end of it. I'm not waiting anymore. I'm not sure I'm even here anymore.
But, it's these days that test your faith that show you who your real friends are and who you really love. I am happily stronger than any of this, even now. And you know what song comes to mind? 'I'm not over you' - the lyrics fit. Well, most of them. Not the last six.
12/12/04 - Have you seen those words in your mind that are on the edge of your mind when you speak to people? You know, the ones you're longing to tell them, but cannot. Because it'll hurt them, or hurt you, or the repercussions will be too great. Because you're afraid of these words. With some people, it's even the emotion, not just the words. I'll admit it, I have a hard time hiding my emotions to an amazing degree. Some people I know hide everything under a glossy veneer of happiness, which doesn't crack easily. I can hide some emotion - disappointment and heartbreak mostly - under that, but most stuff will emanate out anyway. But it worries me. Some people will hide everything they feel and I can't understand how they can do that. I suppose it amounts to hiding from the world, afraid of being hurt again. I wish I could put all this right. I would do anything to protect the people I love from ever being hurt. But I can't stop it, and it's the worst kind of hopelessness. The kind where I think...if only I was stronger, I could protect you. If only I wasn't such a coward, you'd never feel pain again.
18/12/04 - Excuse me while I blow my head off.
21/12/04 - I do complain an awful lot, don't I? Really, I have a fortunately good life. I have a stable home life, I am relatively intelligent, I have wonderful friends who look after me when I'm upset and who are fun to be around when I'm not. And yet for some reason I feel the need to complain constantly. Why?
Well, to be honest, like most teenagers (though not all) my main problems are romantic. And as a result aren't that important. Or are they?
The thing about romance is that it can utterly destroy you if you let it. So maybe I'm right to worry about it.
Anyway, that was fairly random, and definitely a rambling...
30/12/04 - Merry Christmas and Happy New Year all.
Do you understand what betrayal really is? Do you understand how it feels, how it tears you apart and you feel so utterly alone, because the betrayer is someone you trusted? Can you understand how it then feels to be the betrayer? To be an unwilling betrayer - to betray someone you love and respect because you just can't help it? Undoubtedly it is worse to be betrayed, but an unwilling betrayer will always have that sense of guilt and helplessness that they have destroyed this person. But how can I defend a betrayer? Someone who hurts their friends for their own gain? How can anyone defend a person like that?
19/01/04 - It may surprise my incredibly small and select readership, but there are times when I really hate myself. I hate it when I try. I hate it when I long for something I'll never have. I hate myself when I put on make-up. I hate myself when I hide who I am for others. I hate the way I am for people I really respect, the way I become spineless. I hate my weakness in the face of my own pain. I hate the way I can't manage to do anything that sacrifices myself or my happiness for another's. I hate the fact that I can't quite laugh everything off. I hate myself when people fall for me and I can't do anything for them. I hate myself when I give in despite my moral high ground. I hate myself when I don't care and realise later that I've hurt these people. I hate my cockiness and willingness to shove it in other people's faces when I've done well. I hate myself. Sometimes.
24/01/05 - Oh dear. I seem to have done a Hursty. (Note - dictionary definition of 'To do a Hursty' is: To make a joke at another's expense that offends them). Of course, to do a Hursty, you must not have meant a word of it, but for some god unknown reason this person takes it to heart. So about...4 months ago, I was quite into The Mikado, and as Tom had written a school version of 'I've got a little list', I wrote a band version while bored one rehearsal. So of course it's insulting, but it's all meant as a joke.
Saturday night, Mr P calls me over to talk to me, and apparently a few people have been reading this (that explains why my music had moved), and are highly insulted. I will not divulge what Mr P said to me about this, as band persons may somehow find this page, but we'll just say he wasn't going to do anything about it. Personally I find it rather pathetic that they still have to go to a teacher when someone is nasty to them, but hey. They're only 16, they have a few years to grow up yet I suppose. But what really gets me is that a certain unnamed person who has known me for a very long time, took my joke seriously. No offence, but it seems that only the stupidest people of band didn't get it and thought I was having a personal dig at them. Or maybe my sense of humour is just extremely subtle and obscure. Oh well, I found it funny.
14/02/04 - Happy Valentines Day all.
Valentine's Day, to be honest, as Faye kept saying yesterday, sucks. If you don't have that someone - Valentine's Day is the most depressing occaision. You spend the day thinking of them, agonising whether to contact them, deciding not to, and assuming that they are probably with someone else. It's destructive.
Honestly, unrequited love - I've hated it. I was looking through old pictures yesterday - and in every picture I see, I can remember vividly the unrequited love I held for someone. And the pain emanates from the picture - I can remember everything, as we can always remember the worst of life best.
Oh dear - what am I talking about?
21/02/04 - I'm confused.
This time - it's not internal. Mostly when I'm confused it's over an emotion, or a view of someone. This time....it's someone else confusing me. People you think you have sussed - you know, they still surprise you and then absolutely confuse you. Is this the level of my absolute trust - so superficial that I mistrust those to whom I have pledged it? But then - it makes no sense, surely the story has to stick??? I don't know what's really motivated this. And motivation is all.
01/03/05 - A message I would like to send to [email protected]:
"You're cocks. The lot of you. Why can't you make your crappy website better and easier to use?! I mean for god's sake, all the other websites for examination boards are easy to use and show the DATES OF EXAMS!!!! Why can't you? Why are you such cocks!? WHY!?!?!? GIVE ME EXAM DATES YOU BASTARDS!!!!!!!! STOP KEEPING THEM FROM ME!!!!!!!! I NEEEEDD THEM!!!!! I'M MAKING A LIST!!!!!! I'VE EVEN GOT THE BLOODY WELSH BOARD GIVING ME THE DATES - AND YOU CAN'T!?!?!?! WHAT BASTARDS!!!!!!! YOU COCKS!!!!!!! I HATE YOU!!!!! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!"