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| This xanga is moving!
New phase, new name, new decor.
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| Since finishing university, I've found myself kind of at a loss about things. Job wise, of course, education wise, friend-wise and lover-wise and all other wises that care to rear their ugly heads.
I was applying for an internship which required me to write a review of a performance i'd seen in the last 12 months. I was rumaging through my shit to see if i'd salvaged a programme from the particular one i'd chosen, and I had not. But I had the ultimate side-track.
Before long I was literally buried in all my old crap that i'd saved since I ever started thinking. Cinema/concert/theatre tickets, programmes, memorabilia, old diaries, old poems I'd attempted, all the notes we passed to each other at school, even the tape recordings I'd made, when I needed someone to talk to, and the need to feel like someone was listening. (SHAME: thankfully I no longer own a casette player, along with the rest of the world.)
It made me incredibly nostalgic, but very quickly there emerged a giant knot in my belly kind of like lumps of puke sitting around drinking tea and watching 'Friends' in there.
There's a reason my past is far away from me, and people have dubbed me 'mature', which instead I think they mean, 'far from her youth'.
Still, I came back to the present in my head, and didn't feel much for the journey I've been on, so far. If anything, things are pretty unremarkable. Yeah, I've developed an unusual fear, i've gained a qualification and skill or two, i'm in a deadly, but passionate relationship, i've had the energy to get out and see things, and i'm not always held back by passiveness, and I've since refused to settle for anything, really. (Even if most of the ideologies stay as ideas, for now)
But you know, there's a distinct distance between my present and past and I think what's jading me out right now (if that IS a term) is that there's a distinct distance between my present and future.
I carry with me, a string of ugly people, that are putrid inside. But they're just there. If i get rid of them, i'm crippilingly alone. (Yes, i've already regressed to jabbering to no one; pacing, and spending far too much time in the conservatory)
So now what?
One thing I noticed, when up to my eyeballs in stale papers; I didn't half wirte alot of shit when I was at school.
I see very little has changed in that area
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| I know there's a point in my life to come, whenever it'll be, where i'll look back on my time now and quite peacefully and cheerfully remark what a complete tit I was. But I know it's just something I have to go through. And once it's over, once i've collected myself. I'll learn from it, and never be this way again, at least not to the same extent. But until that time comes, I'll do and say the things I do and say and allow my mind to float out of my body and remark like a glittering arrow, that points out everything i'm doing wrong; how stupid i'm being. But until life says this phase is over, i'll be like this.
Prophesying this future, doesn't make it come any quicker. I'll be like this, as long as it takes.
Yesterday night I stumbled from my bed after watching a film with one eye open, to my bedroom door. I fell against the wall and looked over my bedroom. I realised then for the first time, that my head was closer to the ceiling, than it was to the floor. And I could truly see how much i'd grown, up, in this purple castle. And I knew then, that it wouldn't be long till I left here, and began the next phase of my life.
With José, i'll always be the one who worries more, who actively cares more, and tries harder to make things work. I'll always be the one who starts and ends the fights and cries over the other more. I'll probably even always be the one who loves the other more. And I know all this. I can't switch it off, I can't automatically stop. That's probably affirming that it's actual love anyway. It's not conditional. When he's an asshole, I still want to be around him. I still want to unfold in his arms and gnaw on his flesh. That's a kind of connection that won't ever be lost, and at the very least it's always something to fall back on, when emotions run wild, and the rate of tears is high.
And I can for as long as this goes on, always be upset and come back to the same problems I have with him. The fact that he never offers his time to me, or offers me any new experiences, days out, evenings out, walks, drives, anything. I know it'll always be me, and i'll always have to nag (Oh, nagging works by the way. As much as I actually hate conducting it) for anything.
But for a brief second today, driving away from him, I thought, that it doesn't matter anyway.
It's how I feel when we're together, and how I feel he feels; how he looks at me; and what I think, when I look at him. It's the physical connection I feel, when we're not even touching, that matters.
And what pleased me about this thought is how, when I was too young for hormones, and envisioned a relationship with a boy in the future. The only thing I could think of wanting, was what I felt just then, before I drove away.
Anything outside our world, just isn't so important.
Fundamentally, this is great.
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| Hatred is a strong emotion, which holds you back from true happiness or... comfort and peace, however later in life.
I will minimize my hatred.
I have also realized, far too late. To judge is to distance yourself for the realisation of all people's true greatness.
I will try not to be judgemental.
This is the most positive descision i've made in years.
I will lie to myself, if it makes it easier to handle.
This probably negates from my positive step.
OH well.
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| I must make my peace with the grade I predeict I will get from uni. 2.2
I find out at 5PM today and i'm going a little loopy. If I don't think about it, I'm thinking about other things. What Roland said to me, how selfish and egotistical I am, how un-clever (his phrasing, not mine) I am, how my blogs contain nothing and I feel I live my life in a TV drama, how I overreact to my family issues. Everything. And if i'm thinking about that, i'm not thinking about my grades. And then I feel guilty, or something stupid like that.
I know what i'm going to get, really. And it's shameful, but I can't say I didn't try, I just didn't try hard enough, until it was too late. And now the world will judge me, and know how stupid I am, because it's right there, it can't be undone, really. Everybody in the world gets 2.1's, it's just a given, but they're so hard to achieve. I wish to blame the institution, the teachers, the system, but it's all me. Perhaps I was too young to have gone to uni. I don't know... It's probably not the end of my education, I like the idea of studying further, not for the grades, really but for the knowledge.
But I already know, I can learn as much as I possibly could, and still not be clever. I'm still slow on the uptake, and I always will be, people will always use words I don't know, and they'll scowl at me like i'm scum for not knowing. My parents didn't teach me such things, they're less knowledeable about English than I am, but they made it, my Dad is certainly respected, and maybe I should follow in his footsteps... Keep things private, and subtle, be quiet, for most of the time. And don't really have friends except for his wife, whom he kind of loathes for her stupidity at times.
Ugh, that's gonna be me.
2.2
Allright. That's where it begins, at 5PM. | | |
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