Friday, 30 January 2009

Liverpool

Today i cam back from visiting my friend in liverpool. Although we never atually managed to make it outside the campus the entire visit, it was still a really enjoyable time. This friend, I [that might get confusing] was always a very reserved sort of character, he'd come in with the one liners and you'd know he was still concentrating on te conversation, sort of guy. He has made the best bunch of friends i've seen so far. They are boys, I doesn't usually enjoy male company, who sit around playing xbox and getting monged, having the best fucking time of their lives. They are proper cool lads. I'm not being very articulate am i. I think it's all the Happy stuff i've smoked and the fact that it's 5.42 in the morning which has done this to me. It's sucked my creativity right out of my body and pooled in on the floor in coulourful puddles. Which brings me round to the answer as to why i am awake at 5.44 am. People, in my room. Having a kotch. Fucking gays. Not that i mind of course, it's fine. We all have a good time and a laugh, it's just strange it can't be done in the kitchen, the communal area. As my room gets rather messy afterwards. I've had at least four different types of drink spilt on it and i've given up on caring what else is spilt or emptied onto any element of my room. Tonight the ash tray fell on the floor, wouldn't sound that horrific but when you have a bunch of smokers, chain smoking, for 3 hours straight, thats a lot of fag buts. And a shit load of ash which i still have to hover up, but i'll leave that till the morning as i am going to sleep.

Tuesday, 27 January 2009

Facebook, the Stealer of Time

This website will actually kill me. I spend so much time on it it's unreal. Hours a day, hours. Not just an hour but hours, doing not that much..essentially, looking for good club nights..a bit of talking to friends, looking at a few pictures, perhaps some light browsing aka STALKING of other peoples profiles, is all that really occurs. Everyone in facebookland could live without it, but its just so amusing. And addictive.

Enough about facebook, it has caused me to porcrastinate too much already today. I woke up at 2 and have done bugger all. Well, i looked up the course books we need and it turns out there aren't any specialist cardiovascular books that they recomend. Apart from that i've done nothing. I had a long chat with a strange one who lives in our corridoor and who i'll be living with next year. She should be called a friend but i've had about as much conversation with her as a stone. So it was nice to chat to her for a while, not that anything that came out of my mouth was of any remote importance, it never really is.

Something happened last night. We were all very wasted, as happens when we go out on the lash with the primary aim of just getting pissed and having a chat. That's what happens when you go out with non-dancers, you just sit and get progressively more pissed as there is only talking to be done. Which is a fantastic concept, but it just means you get very drunk. I'd much rather sit and drink tea in a bar, then get up and dance around like a fairy to amazing music which i've paid to come and hear, and then maybe drink some more tea [which will inevitably be cheaper than booze as its not taxed as heavily and which will be where you save the money]. I don't quite get non-dancers or people that go out just to get leathered. Dancing to good music is just too fun, its just too amazing. It enables you to connect on a completely different level which the people around you as everyone is moving, close to each other, in different ways and shapes and enjoying the same sound.

But, anyway. We were all very pissed, Li and i somehow had an arguement because i wouldn't buy him some chips and so he wouldn't give me some fags..

It was horrible. We were sat in his room, after i'd left my own with several people still in it, and i knew something bad was going to come, it just had that feeling. I didn't understand the relation between what he was talking about and the arguement we were having. I don't think there was one. I didn't have the money for the chips, well, i did, but i knew i couldn't spend it, and i tried to explain that to him. He'd bought cans to take home because he likes drinking.

He was talking about a night out we'd had a while ago, where he had covered the lights that were embedded in the tables because he thought there were camera's in them. At that time i just wrote it off as him being a piss-head playing the fool but i think he'd actually believed. He was talking about that, and i couldn't find the connection to what we were supposed to be arguing about. He was starting to cry. I felt my face harden and suddenly became conscious of what it ws doing, with a bit of asking, he eventually told me that he sees things. Things that are not real. He was crying properly by this point.

I just wanted to kiss him and hold him, this boy who is nearly 6 foot 4 and who walks around in doc martins and a leather jacket looking like a terrifying skin head. Who sits and drinks on his own in metal pubs, regularly.

This was essentially porcrastination. I don't know what on earth will happen with Li, i am going to make an appointment with Student Services and hope he'll attend. He needs proper help, someone to actually talk to that knows what they are saying, i don't. And by the sound of things he needs to take some anti-psychotics also. But it's not about the seeing things, and stopping them from being seen, it's about how fucked up his head is inside. It has the potential to get very bad, and the amount he drinks is not helping him. I truely believe he is an alcoholic. He drinks twice the pace i do when we go out, so ends up drinking twice as much as me.

I've written this in avoidance of writting a letter to my Father. I want to write "i don't think i can do this" but if i don't even try it'll never happen. I just can't sit and cry anymore. I don't know how to start. I don't know what to say, but i know it's been far too long and if i leave it any longer i never will have a father. It has to be done. I have to face up to it and be an adult, i have to. I can't bury my head in the sand anymore. I wish i had a fairy, to give me the gift of understanding.

What i did today..

I didn't have a very productive today, i must admit. If we are taking the veiw of 'productivity' to be one which involves doing things which have empirical basis i bought some train tickets to liverpool to see a friend and i took some pictues of the train station, as i was there. I got a bit scared though when the secruity/transport police came wandering round as the parania to do with terrorism etc. got to me a little and meant i had to leave. I didn't want to be creating a scene or anything just for the sake or a few pictures.

Apart from that i met up with a friend, i brought Li along, at a Gay Bat [the bar tender i fancy wasn't there though *sigh*] and we got rather pissed and went onto a couple other bars in the immediate icinity. It was quite enjoybale. V, the friend, is an absolute legend. He has the most insane, abstract facts that just make listening to him one of the most enjoyable experiences ever. It is so enlightleing, he is a guy you can learn so much from from just sitting and nodding, one of the best, in my humble opinion. I think he's great and am very gald to have met him.

We watched Skins when we came home. There is a girl that went to my school, that i knew and that came to my house parties, that is in it. They're in series 3 now. During series 1 and 2 it was bad enough but now they're in series 3 i feel as though i've grown ut of it completely and it's gone way past the point of, 'oh this is quite boring because the school life i lead is more interesting than this but its still funny because they do more drugs' to the point of 'oh god please kill me now.' It was never good, it was always too tame for real life, and, i'm sorry right, but for me it was, and now its just crap. This girl is in it and she's fit because she's in it but when i knew her i never fancied her partially because she was a ginger bitch, and partially because she was too cockney for words. Now she's putting on her posh half Bristolian accent and it's supposed to be all good. BOLLOCKS. But i'm sure she's lovely really, she did come to my house parties after all.

This is the first of my three days involving alcohol consumption, so..i am pissed.

Sunday, 25 January 2009

Ankh

I just caught sight of the tattoo i have on my wrist, of an Ankh. I've had it for over 2 years now, and unfortunately, i have just realised why, exactly, i got it tattoed.

After my Father left, which, essentially, was rather traumatic, i had a little obbsession with the symbol. I convinced myself of the conection it had with new life and rebirth and what not, and then when a friend's sister suggested getting tatoo's i was all up for it. Spur of the moment sort of thing. So i got it done, without any ID, at 17, at a tattoo parlour in camden ['parlour' is such an american phrase, i hate it but it's what they're generally know as, in the same sense that a betting shop is known as a bookies].

But what i have just realised about this tatoo, is that i always describe it as meaning 'new life and rebirth' but rebirth from what? I got it just after my dad left, it was a way of..of well, symbolising for myself the seperation between the old life, where he was around and present and the new life, where i basically cut all contact with him. And that's not a very nice thing now is it. And i have this tattoo on my wrist, which i didn't realise until now meant the start of cutting him out of my life.

One of the items of my list of things to do this term is to write my Father a letter to explain to him why i've not spoken to him in over 2 years. It's a challenge, i admit. When i put it on the list i had the feeling that i was slightly invincible, i mean, i was learning and being so uber productive i thought it my logical scientifically overloaded brain that i could do anything logically possible, i just forgot about being a human. You know, those pesky emotion things and all that jazz.

I wrote it in the belief that i will do it. So i will do it. If i had that belief, i can maintain that belief and continue to maintain it throughout writing the letter. Through the tears caused by pesky human emotion. Because, deep within me, i know now that it is time to give him a reason, otherwise he will never know. He has a baby for christs sake. I am no adult, i am in the "late stage of adolescence" according to some text book. But i know, and this was in the text book too, that my actions have consequences that reach far beyond just my own wellbeing. They may even reach as far into the well being of this fucking child. And i don't want that to happen. So i best write this bloody letter.

Tattoo's have many meanings, it's not just that it's associated with my Father, it reaches far deeper than that. I used to be a very fucked up person, and i can, oh yes, wait for it, see the light. I feel as though i am better. I am better. I no longer hate myself so passionately that i'd rather hack myself to pieces with a razor than look in the mirror and see someone reasonably nice.

Never acuse me of being an emo. I will gauge out the eye balls of anyone that ever does. Literally. OK, maybe not, but the look they will recieve will make them want to gauge out their own eye balls for staring. People do stare, occasionally.

Saturday, 24 January 2009

Burma

Today, i was rather productive. I signed the lease on the house, i bought some stuff from Sainsbury's, including way too much value line chocolate [only 27p a bar] and some tea's, then i came back and decided that to be productive i should write a short story. So i did. It's called Felicity, and it's about a girl who meets a Fairy named Felicity. I quite like it. It's a proper short story, not just a random rant with a bit of description here and there. I'm actually quite proud of myself, for doing something productive that i wouldn't normally have the drive to do.

I enjoyed writing it too. It was a lot like blogging, just with more thought involved as i was actually having to articulate a concept, an idea, and not just speal away for only my better understanding. Then i got a bit bored of story writing, and went to see this play, The Burma Play, with Hg. Now, she thinks it was good, but i think it was trying to cram too much into too short a time [100 years of history, ie. the complete history of the burmese people, into only an hour] but my opionion is slightly undermined by the fact that i sort of fell asleep halfway through. There was a discussion afterwards, with the director, scripwritor etc. sat up on chairs on the stage, which was quite interesting. It made up for the jumpy nature of the play.

A burnese woman took the mic, and had a little schpeel. It was much better than the guy who swore when he had the mic. She spoke about how scared burmese people are, despite living in the UK, to even attend a play illustrating the attrocities commited by the military junta in case, upon arrival home, they or their families were hurt. That was probably the best bit.

Then we came back, got a little Happy and then watched Waterloo Road. It was actually quite funny. Then i finished the rest of my story..i think the Happiness helped slightly as i couldn't before overcome the mental block of "what the fuck is this fairy supposed to say to her."

Friday, 23 January 2009

What i did today..

I've not blogged in a few days.
Well, maybe perhaps two.
I have developed a love,
For structuring my scentences,
as though they were;
a poem.

It is quite a fun thing to do really, adds a slightly different emphasis as to the interpretation of your meaning. The Semester Test was yesterday. It feels almost as though it were days ago, as though so much has happened between then and now. But anyway, the main exam was yesterday and it didn't go as well as planned. It was very hard, harder than i'm used to. A lot harder, as in, i didn't know at least 20% of the answers. I just didn't, i couldn't remember them, or hadn't even known what on earth the questions was actually talking about to begin with. It was rather daunting, but now i don't actually mind. I might have done quite crap; i might have actually failed, but i'm not going to stress about it now. I'll stress about it three days before the results are published, i know i will, so i've decided that one stress test is bad enough. I'm going to give myself a break.

In other thoughts, i keep thinking, well i don't really keep thinking it, it just comes into my mind once in a while on a Special Occasion, but anyway, i keep thinking how beautiful it would be to kiss someone, just as they appreciated a moment at the same time as you.

OK, i've not explained this very well at all. I Picked Up yesterday, as a treat to myself, and Hg and i got a tad Happy. I was very Happy, with the big constant grin accompanied by dry mouth, and she was ... mediumly Happy, but if you ask me i think she was very Happy too, just in denial, and we watched this video, on youtube; Seaglopur, by Sigor Ros. It was beautiful, perfectly. It was actually perfect, in almost every way. And it was the imperfections which made it better, but basically, it was touching, in a very human, organic way. And then the conversation progressed onto how life is like waiting for the beat to drop, as exemplified by the Scroobius Pip track..and we started to recognise when, in the conversation, or in any human interaction, where the beat dropped. We began to recognise the break down, the climax to the story that you're friend is telling you -the hand gestures have just stepped up to the next level- and then there's a pause, of perhaps a few moments, and it drops, and there you have the halarity of the moment, as though a massive bass line has just been pumped through the speakers inducing absolute illation within you.

Or, perhaps not in a club. But with any music, there is always the break down and the drop and if the music lacks an element of the two, it will bore me to death. So, when this mythical "beat" drops, it's amazing, because it's what you've been waiting for. The artist has delivered.

But then, we had a real beat dropping moment. We both realised, at the same time, that we had mixed these two songs together. The Scroobious Pip song, and another by Sigur Ros. And we looked at each other, and it was really beautiful. The moment was beautiful.

And i've been thinking, that at that exact moment, when two people connect on such a level that they are able to think the same thought at the same time and appreciate the beauty of such a thing, become aware of that, and than have the ability to share that awareness; it would be the perfect moment to kiss.

I feel i am well along the way to becoming a Fairy.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009

An Exam

Today we had the Progress Test. A test which is given to all 5 years worth of medics and so, almost quite obviously, being 1st years, we are "allowed" to fail. Someone mentioned the average for 1st years last year was 15%, which is quite shit. In all honesty. I know for certain, out of 120 questions, i managed to answer at least 3 right. Which, when i find my calculator, i will work out to be..2.5%. But i think i educatedly guessed a few more..so perhaps 15% will be in the correct region.

It lasted 2 hours 30 mins and by the time i'd finished, 10 minutes before the end, the hall had about 5% of people left in it. Someone left after perhaps only 45 minutes. No matter how much of a genious you are, you can not score highly in a test that long after 45 minutes. I wonder what was going through his mind..i though i'd at least try, make an attempt sort of thing. Use it as a learning experience. So i read all the questions, thought about them using the [very limited] knowledge that i possess and ticked the box closest to the answer which i thought it might be. It was multiple choice, after all.

We were in the smaller of the two exam halls at the main exam taking site. I saw the bigger one and it scarred the shit out of me. Made my heart race. So i took a picture. It was very, very big. It looked like it could seat at least 500 people. I was glad of being in the smaller of the two for the first test. I'm in the bigger one for Wednesdays Semester Test.

After my meditation i'm feeling quite calmly confident about it. But i don't want it to branch into cockyness, or false reassurance. Tonight, however, after coming home, Li and i did some "jamming." We sound quite good as a pair, my voice, however, needs much working on. It got a bit awful towards the end. Maybe i should have been revising, but i decided to give my brain a break. I have the whole of tomorrow, which i will spend most comfortably in the library.

Hg is back. She partook in some of our jamming session. And then several other people came in as they could "hear my from down the hall." Rather embarrasing.

Monday, 19 January 2009

Calm

I have realised that much of the anxiety, because that is what it is, it's anxiety; text book clinical definition, i have surrounding exams is..well..perhaps slightly self created. It is good, to an extent, as it gives a drive to revise and prepare, but sometimes it can seriously overload me. Anxiety, in my case, usually manifests itself in physical symptoms. I shake, a lot. Uncontrollable shaking. It usually is in my hands but if it gets really bad it can overtake my whole body, i tense up in an attempt to stop it, or at least lessen its obviousness and end up with incredibly sore shoulders, neck and back.

I don't need to be anxious, though. I am a sensible person, i have prepared for these exams to the absolute best of my ability and after doing the practise questions and getting 71% [thankfully a pass] i have proved to myself that the feelings which i create within myself, which are mainly due to fear..fear of inadequecy..are unnecesary. I just don't know how to put a stop to them before they begin.

The shaking got a little ridiculous and i knew if i didn't do something i wouldn't be able to sleep. So i meditated for a while. It sounds pretentious and ridiculous, i will admit that. But it helped, it helped an immense amount. After, a fellow medic friend, Se, knocked on my door and whilst talking i felt the calmest i had been for weeks. I felt almost as if i were stoned, but with a clearer mind. It was a wonderful change to what i normally feel; an explosion on the peak of bursting contained within a lead lined box. I think, perhaps, i should make it a regular thing.

Sunday, 18 January 2009

Six Degree's

This concept has always fascinated and intrigued me. I find it insanely beautiful that we can connect with others so easily, that we are all so close and interwoven, despite speaking several hundred different languages and living several thousands of miles apart. What i find even better is when this concept is illustrated to me, and it usually happens via the medium of facebook.

I spoke to this girl, at the Christmas Dinner [what tried to be a posh event but what actually just flopped like a bitch] who was waitressing there. I spoke to her because i thought she was gorgeous. And then i never spoke to her again, but i was convinced of the fact that it would be possible, despite having no contact details of hers, to eventually meet again. What happens? Facebook, my dearest friend. She was tagged in an album that appeared on my stalker feed.

I think i am such a gay sometimes. I love beautiful things. But i hate writing the word beautiful. Everytime i do, without fail, i always sound out "B-E-A-U" in my head as i've never been able to spell it. I absolutely adore life. It is the most amazing, complex, mind boggling concept and i feel honoured that my brain can even contemplate just the smallest fraction of information needed for its understanding. It is fascinating. On every level; from the atomic -our DNA and the atoms from which it is comprised- to the social and psychological. It is genuinely miraculous.

I am thankful to be alive, and that didn't used to be the case. I'm profoundly greatful for the chance to learn the skills required to be a Doctor. And i will not waste it, or treat it with any less of the kilo's of respect it deserves.

Saturday, 17 January 2009

"Taking the piss"

Literally.

He does my fucking head in. I took a picture of him taking a piss in an alley. It's going to be part of my protfolio, and no matter how much anyone else moans or takes the piss, this portfolio is going to happen. And it's going to be hideously beautiful. Hidious. Because that's what this life is; this life that we lead. This life that i lead with him, whilst with him. It's hideously beautiful. I've fixed myself a drink. Whisky, straight up.

I've one more case to revise. I don't understand him. And he doesn't get along with Hg or anyone else. All but Hg, as they don't know him very well, think he is harmlessly nice. He is a fucked up mess. But..and i'm not going to lie now, he is a mess. But that is what i do, as a person. I attract fucked up people, not because i try, but simply as it happens. I attract them and i want to somehow fix them, but, inevitably, it is never as simple as that. I surround myself with fucked up people to feel..maube perhaps normal. Becuase i know i'm not normal. I need a girlfriend, or at least a girl to shag.

We were out in the Gay Village, which, honestly, is more of a street, tonight, and i got talking to this girl. She was very nice, she was a nurse, and most definately had her heart slap bang in the place it needs to be. She was wonderful, and so was her partner. I am going to go to the next Gay Club meet and "try it on" with someone. As i am sick of this. There was this bartender, who i've spoken to before..perhaps mayber flirtatiously [i don't know as i was rather pissed at the time and my affections were focussed on another] and i gave her the change of two drinks from £10. She did some glass collecting/talking to her friends afterwards. But i didn't talk to her. Despite her being perhaps only 2 feet away. I'm a pussy when it comes to girls. When i'm pissed, however, that's a different story. I don't know how that one happened.

We are going to be; The Fairy's Blood Vomit. As a compromise. I wanted to be The Blood Vomit Fairy's but Li didn't. It still has Fairy in it, so it's not that awful. God knows why he wants to have blood vomits in our band name. We went on a little Gay Village pub crawl tonight. I am so going to shag a girl from the LGBT, otherwise i might just die via necrosis of the clitoris.

Friday, 16 January 2009

Drudgery

I am so bored of revision. It is actually killing me. It's interesting, in small bursts. But for 8 hours straight, which is what i'm doing currently, it's just too much. But it is what is required. So it must continue. I have 8 cases that will be tested and i've revised 6 so far. I'm half way through the 7th, and the 8th is shorter. I am yet to do the anatomy associated with the cases but, the anatomy we need to know, is essentially impossible for me to learn in 5 days, so i'm not too bothered. And i doubt they'll want to know the exact names, origins, insertions, innervation, and bloody supply [arterial and venous] of every muscle in the arm and the lower limb. There's just too much else to be tested on. So maybe i'll shoot blanks when they ask us the 7 direct anatomy questions but i can't fill my short term memory like that. It doesn't work. And it's muliple choice, so i can always have an educated guess.

No-one else is around and it is very boring. I just spent an hour looking through photo's on facebook. There are so many memories contained in photo's; that's why i aim to take one every day. I desperately want to document my time here, to have the ability to look back and remember. Not just think, wow, i got wasted a lot.

Li is back in his home town. I'm trying to think of ways to get him to drink less and i've come up with actually putting the effort into properly starting a band up. Maybe, once we've got a few songs going, even looking for a gig or two. I'm going to buy a pair of bongo's and a few other percussive instruments and be the vocals and noise making section of the band. It's the only thing i can really do, as i can't play a tuned instrument [apart from bashing out a few chords on the keyboard] and sing at the same time. Lacking the co-ordination. I can, however, bang stuff and create a beat whilst bellowing. Hopefully. It should be good fun. Actually being productive and what not.

Exams are in..3/5 days.

Wednesday, 14 January 2009

Dyslexia

For a considerable while i been thinking about whether or not i am dyslexic. I've only just learnt how to spell dyslexia properly. When speaking to Head of Phase about how fucked in the head i felt, but obviously not using those words [as it happens i didn't say many words, i just sat and listened] but during the seemingly one way discussion i brought upt he issue of learning difficulties. He suggested i speak to the Disability Support Office. I emailed them and it is £100 for testing. Takes the fucking piss. Do i look like i have £100? Do i look like a need extra time in exams as i can't read very fast and can't read [full stop] the names of drugs and strange protiens?

They say the charge is for an educational psychologist. I don't want an appointment with an educational psychologist. I want to take a tesk, an assesment, whatever, and then be told whether or not i qualify for extra time. I don't need help with learning strategies, i don't need to be told; use coloured highlighters and a reading guide, as i already do that. I know how i learn best. That is obvious as i am here, studying one of the most competative courses in the country. Retards.

I have 5, no, scratch that, 7 years of exams ahead of me, and if i qualify for extra time then i bloody well want that extra time. You know what's quite halariosu, i can probably type faster than i can read. Which means i can write faster than i can read. What kind if a strange freak of nature am i?

Today, i went to the library and it was packed, again. What anoys me most is when people who don't frequently use the library begin to use it during exam times and don't observe the rules which are in place ie. shut the fuck up and don't ahve mobile phone conversations for all and sundry to hear whilst the rest of the 100 people int he room are attempting to study in silence. Also, when a group of people sit next to me and start messing around. I can't concentrate! And, as has already been stated, i find it hard enough to read at the best of times. With annoyance so near the temptation to daydream becomes even greater and my productivity level falls well below what it should be. However, despite these obstacles, i was able to be productive today. I have learnt the entirity of the human immune system. And it was very fucking boring. My wall is now begining to look like that of a mad one.

I am a rastafarian fairy who shall spread love peace and happiness whereever she goes. I want to be a fairy and i very much embrace the rastafarian philosophy. This is what i did instead of revising whilst i was at home; i read the entire wikipedia page of rastafarian traditions. When exams are over i'm going to go and try and find some rastafarians to talk to. I'm considering dredding my hair. But it is a very permenant change, so i'm considering it long and hard.

Fuck the DSO. I might email Head of Phase about my dilemma.

Tuesday, 13 January 2009

University

I have not blogged in two days. I have been conscious of this fact, however, and i am attempting to rectify the situation. It was not because i didn't want to blog, but because i didn't have time/was very tired and didn't feel like waxing lyrical about a random encounter. I did, however, write an abstract piece in my notebook, which i suppose could be considered a form of experession. That is what i'm attempting to do, to express myself, coherantly, every day.

Today, i awoke at 1 pm after ignoring my alarm more than several times. I pissed around for a while, and then i went to the library. I returned from the library at 11.30. Yesterday i left the library at the same time, it's the time when they close off all the normal area's and leave open only the general one's which contain no books but only "study spaces." When they advertised 24 hour opening i assumed the entire library would be open, alas, this is not the case. The medical section is not open during the night. The medical area is where i usually study, when there is no space in the more romantic literature/law section which overlooks a lawn and has large sprawling desks which you can lay at least half a dozen text books on. Perhaps tomorrow, as the case i'm going to attempt to cover is longer and slightly more challenging, i will have to move to the general area when they announce the specialist areas are closing.

It was very strange, today, walking into the library and hearing conversations occuring in the stairwells. Usually the stairwells are deserted. I know this becuase i am a frequent inhabitant of the library. I love it. I have even given it a pet name; Mr X. Personally, i find it easier and more effective if the environment in which i am studying is completely seperate to the environment in which i live. This is because the environment in which i live allows me to wander in thought about my mind. Inevitably, music is always playing. When music is playing i have many an urge to get up and dance. This is what usually happens if i attempt to study in my room. I just dance around like a looney and get no work done. Obviously, when frequenting Mr X's House, you can not dance around like a looney as there are other people present. The emphasis at Mr X's is to work. And i very much revel in that emphasis. It was even stranger, to walk into Mr X's and find every "study space" [essentially a posh word for a desk] taken. Literally. I had never seen so many people in the library in my entire time of attendance. I felt like my personal space had been invaded, almost. It was most irritating.

Li is back. He is wonderful but most destructive. He has already missed a deadline for an assessed essay and is under the impression that he will fail the year and get a skilled non-manuel labour job in September. I felt like giving him a big slap in the face. The twat. But i love him, very much. He is my fellow misfit.

Li and I were discussing, amougst many other things, my relationship with Hg. For some reason, i'd always thought the whole thing had happened and then burned out again in three weeks. This was probably because PBL[proper] hadn't started until a month after we'd arrived. The whole escapade had in fact lasted over two months. Essentially, the whole of semester 1. I'd not realised that. That's probably why i was struggling with what the basis of our friendship was, as, essentially, there wasn't really a basis scratch attraction.

Li and I went out on a futile search to find a pub that was open at 2am. We ended up going to spar and buying some cans instead [and tampons as i'm running low, Li was generous enough to buy them for me as i had no change]. I do love him. I love him very much. He and Hg do not get along. But once, during what i used to remember as Freshers Week, but now in hindsight it was probably the month during which i had no PBL, we were in my room and somehow, due to our drunkeness and my wanting to cuddle someone, we all ended up in my bed. Together, the three of us. He said he couldn't stretch his arms out properly because of the shirt he was wearing and i undid his cuffs to allow him to stretch his arms saying; "you're not the only one that's a scar factory." The three of us in a very small single bed. And then everyone else came in from a night out somewhere. That was a fun evening. We used to stay up until 4am drinking cheap red wine and smoking roll up cigarettes in my room, the three of us. I don't know why Hg doesn't like Li anymore.

I want to be a rastafarian fairy doctor.

Saturday, 10 January 2009

Fun Times

I like going out, and i don't just mean leaving the house. Dancing has to be in my top 3 "Activities To Do With Yourself." You've got the; going to the pub and having a few drinks, you've got the sitting around and smoking a few spliffs and maybe making some music and you've got the watching a film/observational activities. But dancing. Wow. I love it. I love feeling music and being in an environment which is designed for precisely that purpose. To have some good clean fun. Well, i say clean, but very often people are on some form drug. Scratch that, everyone is on drugs, because at the levels most people who are awake in a place selling alcohol till 3 am drink, alcohol has just as much effect as any other drug.

But it's not about getting wasted, or being on drugs, its purely about the music and the movement. Feeling it, being in it, with every beat and every drop and every rewind. When you're able to get into that zone and just let go, and move, its uplifting.

The most amazing thing is when you connect with another person and you're both feeling the same. It's not about pulling, or sex, or, heaven forbid, looking good, its about them and their movements connected to yours, feeling their body against your skin and going with the rythm. That is the best feeling. That's happen to me once before, with a male. It did slightly throw me.

We were dancing, our last dance as my friends were leaving, and we were..well..going for it. Sometimes, if you watch MTV Dance you see wide angle shots of a couple dancing, illuminated by flourescent lights with smoke and darkness all around them. That is what i mean by going for it. We were going for it, feeling it, and living it. I had my eyes closed, as i looked up i opened them and met the eyes of a girl standing with her friends. She didn't look at me in disgust, because we weren't doing anything sleazy, she didn't look at me and judge me, what i saw in her face was a look of..perhaps awe, surprise and a touch of envy. Not because i was dancing with another guy, but as i, for some strange coicidence, had gotten into this situation and had the confidence enough to simply let go and go with it. It was probably because i looked like i was having fun, and not the look most girls have when they're dancing with a bloke; the "i'm so off my face [if you see my decency can you let me know, i think i lost it 2 double vodka's ago] i'm going to colapse into this guys bed" look is what is most common. To be on the recieving end of such a look really brought out the inquisitive nature..i wondered if everyone else didn't have as much fun dancing as i did.

I go for the music, purely. And when the music is good, it's amazing.

Thursday, 8 January 2009

An Old Friend

I got in contact with an old friend via facebook yesterday. She messaged me. I'd missed her, a lot. We'd stopped being friends because, well, honestly, we'd fallen into the wrong crowd, we were very young [16] and had started doing things that were way beyond our age.

It was new years eve '06 and i was the drunkest i'd been in my life. I was only 16, we were only 16 and we'd somehow befriended these women of 24/25 years of age. I was, or had been dating one of them and she [although i didn't know at the time] was essentially sleeping with the other. The other, it has now been revealed, was a crack addict. It was a fun night, but with awful ramifications. I think it was only fun because of how drunk i was. We were in a club and by the end of the night i'd kissed at least 6 people. One of them was the crack addict. After that night my friend and i stopped talking. I told her, several days later, what had happened. I knew i had to get out, i had to stop associating with those people. We stopped talking. I fell into an equally destructive crowd, although they were slightly less awful. Less dregs of the gutter type people. I did reasonably badly in my AS levels. I knew i had to sort my life out, so i did. I turned it around, i got a job, i met the former GF, i stopped going out and moving in the wrong circles, and i aquired a group of friends at TSH-Mark II who were normal, nice and reasonably conventional. Apart from the copious levels of hash some of them smoked. But it could have been worse.

My friend, Cu, however, remained with the crack addict for over a year. She essentially failed her A-levels. She got CDD, which is by no means a fail but she could have achieved so much more. Her life is a mess. Her sisters life is a mess. Her sister is a 'maid' in a brothel. And the gut wrenching thing is they are both from a respectible family, their father is an architect. He designed the fountains outside Centre Point. She is fantastic, and i think, deep down, she knows what a mess her life had become.

She was 16 and lost her virginity, drunkenly, to a 25 year old [ex?] crack addict in some funfair toilets.

I was 16 and lost my virginity, in all sobrieties glory, to a 24 year old failing law student who i'd met, essentially, from the internet.

Both were women. We briefly shared a very fucked up life. It's strange how fucked up reality is. I was speaking to a friend from University, NO2, and she said to me that no-one is normal. Normality doesn't exist. I didn't believe her at the time but i think she was right. She is so wise. Sincerely. When i see her freak out about work i want to shake her and tell her how amazing she is, i want to show her just how much knowledge and determination she possesses. No-one is normal. Absolutely everyone has their own insanely fucked up stories. Most simply don't let it show.

The revision didn't go so well today as i spent perhaps 3 hours on the phone to Cu. But the plan is to get up at 9 am tomorrow, instead of todays 3.30 pm and catch up on what i was supposed to do.

By tomorrow i am to have finished case 1 and have gotten at least half way through case 2, if not finished all of case 2.

13 DAYS.

Wednesday, 7 January 2009

Revision

Well, the revision is plodding along. Not as quick as i would like but i am learning. Thank the lord. I have 14 days until the important exam. The not so important exam is 12 days away. I have a lot to learn but if i stick to the schedule and get intensive when i return to University on Saturday i should at least be as prepared as i can make myself. I'm slightly terrified though, but with me, exams go the same way. It's a multiple choice, so it may perhaps be harder to tell if i've done awfully, but usually my gut feeling of failure is right. There was an occasion when it wasn't, but it's best to expect the worst, then you're less devastated.

Exams and i go one way; i do them, i cry, i obsess over every detail and question for a week, get sick of obsessing and realise there is nothing i can do. I prepare myself for failure. I convince myself that the worst is not actually that bad. Results day looms, for three days before i cry. I cry a lot. I feel like pooh. The results are released. I decide it's better to live in blissful ignorance. I don't discover my results. One or two days pass, and i decide that i'm being a fool. I look at my result. Usually, in all past experiences, it has been fine. But if it's not fine there are re-sit exams in August. I don't even want to do well, i just want to pass. I just want to pass. Being an honours student would be fantastic, it would make Mother Dearest so proud, but all i want is to be a good doctor. To do right by my prospective patients. I don't think i need to pass with honours to do this. I just want to be a good doctor.

Right now, being a doctor feels like such a far off and challenging goal; to speak to a patient as a doctor, to diagnose the patient, to ensure that every aspect of their health, both psychological and physical is catered for, to embody that role..requires extensive training. I am glad the course is 5 years long because i think it takes that amount of time to aquire the skills needed.

My friend Pt also studies medicine. He, like me, doubted he would even get into Medical School, but we both did. At my University our clinical skills or early experience, or whatever you want to call it consists soley of speaking to patients. That's all we've done, and all we will do, in Semesters 1 & 2. At his University they are already using stethescopes and being taught how to take blood! I think it highlights the differences between the Medical Schools we attend. Where i am the emphasis is most definately on th patient as human being, as a person who has many factors affecting their health, not just simply the disease they are suffering from. That's highly emphasised. Perhaps at Pt's there are taught to see the patient as a biochemicalmachine. Personally, the biochemical machine model of a patient is a hell of a lot less terifying than the human model.

I called that girl. I doubted there would be time to meet [and shag] but i did anyway..and as always she spoke, a lot. Sometimes i get so bored of what she's saying i wonder if she'll notice that i've hung up. Most of it is reasonably interesting if it were a conversation, but it is a one way dialouge. I always worry that i'll become like that. Someone who spouts inane information about their life to anyone that'll listen. So i always try to ask questions, even if they are unnecesary. I always try, or at least when i become conscious of the fact that the conversation has become slightly one sided, i try to engage the other person. But usually there's an equal balance.

I am slightly obsessed by facebook. And for some idiotic reason i am slightly obsessed by the number of friends i have, not so as i can prove to myself or others that i'm popular [har har] but just because i'd like a certain number to illustrate the fact that i can make new friends. To illustrate it to myself, of course. Not to anyone else. I don't particularly give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks about the number of friends i have. But i've noticed that my number of friends has been decreasing. This is probably due to the fact that people i don't know [who i usually don't allow anyway but sometimes they slip through the drunken gaps] or people who aren't real people [such as organisations] have been deleting me. But to delete a friend is a big step. I've only done it once. And that was to prevent them stalking me.

Tuesday, 6 January 2009

Revision

I had A LOT of fun over the Christmas/New Year period but as the ITV news person announced today over pictures of London in about a millimeter of snow [which sadly made the news] many a person is now back at work. I should have done more work over previous said period, but, i didn't so now i'm all for focus. Proper focus. Not focus as in getting up at 3pm [which is what happened today] but focus as in getting up at 9 or 10 am. And doing some bloody work. Because time slips away with procrastination.

I have 8 cases to revise and i've half done one, proplerly done another. I'll do it all in time for the exams, i just need to be organised. Organisation is crucial. And this includes aquiring an adept sleeping pattern. Which i will. I'm also returning to University on the 10th to aid the requirement of revision.

I don't usually watch ITV news and now i know why. It felt like i was being continuously lectured at, the booming male voice annunciating his words to me like i'm a plebian. Which i may well be, but at least humour me into the illusion that i can form my own opinions about a news story. It was like reading the Daily Mail. I suppose this is why i prefer Channel 4. Which, on the surface of it [as both websites lead stories are about CBB] seems no better. How sad. I'm still yet to watch Dead Set despite the fact that i am in love with Charlie Brooker. The bastard.

I was thinking, whilst crying, or crying whilst thinking, today, about the former-GF and i's relationship. I was trying to decifer what the point of it was. And i came up with an answer to Joey's eternal mantra of "there's no such thing as a selfless act." All i did was cause myself a load of saddness and heartache in trying to make things better, i gained sweet FA, i'm left thinking "was there any point" yet she is happy. And that was the original point of it all. Which then lead me to thinking, was that really worth it? The obvious human inclination is to say, "of course!" but really, it's a balancing act. Maybe in a years time i'll reflect and see that it was truly worth it, but now i'm still feeling slightly miffed. And this BOY she's apparently with most definately DOES NOT help. EURGH. I could rant for thousands of words, but i will not.

I will simply say the battery in my camera has run out and i can't find the charger so i've not taken today's or yesterday's pictures. But it is more of a University project.

Monday, 5 January 2009

At Home

I feel as though being at home, living in a small family unit, is isolating. Living in halls is so much fun, the corridoor format allows you to wander from one to the other and knock on peoples doors, sit in rooms, chat for hours, watch films, smoke many cigarettes, all whilst in your PJ's and socks. When at home, stuck in this house, i have to leave to make an effort to go out and talk to people. And that sucks. What sucks even more is that He has left for University, accidentally. She doesn't have lectures until the begining of february but left today. She is a bit of a slow one. But i love her to bits. And she's buggered off so i have no-one to pester! Well, i do, but they're all that little bit further away.

This week is going to be for revision. Oh no! I only have Monday - Friday before i go back. How sad. Truly. That is actually a rather sombre and sad thought. Even though i was just moaning about being home and the lack of social interaction. I'm going to miss being home an unbelievably large amount. Nothing beats a house, a sofa, a full fridge, food being made for you, your mum..everything. But university will be VERY fun.

Since breaking up with the former-GF i haven't slept with anyone, this is normally fine but reasonably late at night the seedier sky channels show programmes like "sexectera" and "porn week." These don't usually interest me but there was a section on the cyber-dyke network, whilst watching it i actually got a little bit turned on. And i even went on the website. So desperate was i, i honestly considered paying the fee to watch porn. I didn't, obviously. But i considered it. That's how bad things have gotten. I need to have sex. There is a girl, but i've not slept with her before and..well..i'm a little scared.

We were supposed to meet up last week some time but she couldn't make it as she'd lost her purse and sounded ever so slightly devastated. I called her this evening but her phone went straight to voicemail..i may call her tomorrow. She's hot. And would be very, very, good.

I also created a Flickr account.

Sunday, 4 January 2009

What i did today..

I will keep this resolution. I will, because i want to; chronicling the events of my life enables me to digest them, to understand and reflect on them better, to try and make some sense of them and gain some form of lesson from the things which don't go so well. I will, because i know it helps. I will, because during semester 1 [this incredible period of life which i keep banging on about] i didn't keep a blog and found it impossible to differentiate between times, places, emotions, events..they simply melted into one and other with no real learning expereince gained from any of it. Apart from how to get well and truly wasted. And apparently speak to a door for 30 minutes. Not that i remember any of the later.
  • To enable digestion.
  • To make learning from life easier.
  • For reflection, as an account.
So, even if the entry is only accounting "What i did today" i will still write it. For the reasons above.

Today i went to see The Little Prince at the theater. Apparently the Guardian didn't like it. I liked it, i thought it was..melancholy. He died. Was bitten by a boa constrictor. I have partially read the book, but it was when i was perhaps 8 or 9 so i had forgotten most of the plot. The Guardian is however right about the rose. That was a bit strange. Overall, it was worth £10.

I have decided to go back to University on the 10th despite exams being on the 19th/21st. It is perhaps an acceptance of my own role in my education. And an acknowledgment as to what the best learning environment is; the Library. It will be sad though, as i have very much enjoyed being home. But what must be done must be done.

Whilst not blogging i tried to write a very abstract diary or collection of thoughts written in third person. I will continue writing this as it offers a very interesting reflection. It's..perhaps more honest and spontaineous than this as it can be written anywhere.

Today i also took many pictures. I enjoy taking pictures very much. I enjoy taking pictures of things i think are beautiful, and i think many things are beautiful so i take many pictures. I very much do enjoy taking pictures; it's as though you are able to capture a moment, literaly. A single moment, not even a second as a shutter moves much faster, but a split second, where the light is perfect and the surrounding objects will never be in the same positions again. I especially enjoy taking pictures of people. Not those that i know particularly, just people, interacting; being real. That is beauty. Reality is beauty, reality is humanity and humanity is beauty.

Humanity, however, can also be terribly, terribly ugly.

I am going to document semester 2 by taking at least one picture a day. I am going to make a portfolio and i am going to name it; "My Life in Halls." And i will force my friends to listen to my schpeal and allow me to take photo's of them, because they are an integral part of my life in halls. That, and the feelings i have, which will be documented here and in the insane abstract diary.

Thursday, 1 January 2009

A New Year

Reflecting on this year brings tears to my eyes. I didn't believe that i could ever have achieved what i have; i am at Medical School, i studied and got the grades i needed [despite never actually knowing if it was possible for me to acheive them] and i have moved to a totally alien city and made new friends. I broke up with the GF, who is now the former-GF. Then, when semester 1 started all i did was work and drink to..avoid..something. And i don't know what that something is. But that same something is why i spent so much of semester 1 in tears.

Life is obviously never going to be easy and what tests us are the ways in which we deal with these conflicts, with these [i'm not going to say something cheesy like challenge, or obstacle, which most blatantly indicates that you're able to overcome it and gleen a positive from a negative *go team*] difficulties is what shapes us. If we crumble inside and cut and scream and bleed and hate ourselves more every day we breath then that makes for a pretty messed up person who will very soon die. If we lash out at everyone around us when the shit hits the fan then we end up with no friends. If we cry..there's always the danger of falling into a pit of self pity, but, on a personal level, crying is the best for me to deal with difficulties. So, i spent a lot of semester 1 in tears.

I still find it slightly hard to comrehend. There is one issue in particular which i'm struggling to digest, but not to accept. I accepted the reality of the situation just after it had been spoken about. What happened between Hg and i is still slightly..it's a mess in my head. I can't believe it happened, i can't believe it didn't happen, but most of all even i am surprised we've managed to remain friends. And not just friends that talk occasionally but good friends, one of the closest friends i have at university. Objectively, that makes for a bit of a strange start. But that's not being obective. That's tip toeing round the subject. Objectively, honestly, i don't know. I think it may just have to be accepted and not understood. Swallowed.