In an effort to sort my thoughts out and try to regain some kind of control over where my mind wanders off to i'm trying to blog more.
So, what have i done today? I went to a lecture then had PBL (similar to a seminar group). And then i came back here and worked for a little bit, i did the online learning thing (which is absolutely pointless) and got 4/4 which is good as last time i got 1/4, then i tried to do some anatomy work. It is very boring and unhelpful, when trying to study the male reproductive system, having never seen a penis or scrotum in your life and studying from a text book with a difinitive lack of pictures. So i resorted to Wikipeadia.
Something that may be a little strange; i prefer to sit and listen to music than to watch something online, like a television programme or a film. I'll sit for an hour or so, listen to music, smoke some cigarettes and maybe look out the window a little. I find it gives me space to think. I also prefer listening to music than reading a paper for the same reason. It seems i have a large desire to think but lack a definate concrete diagnosis of exactly what i think about.
The 400 medics are split into PBL groups of roughly 12 people each with whom you study each PBL case with. Each PBL group is allocated 4 "Mummies and Daddies", second years who are supposed to guide and look after you. On the first medics social, where all the 1st years and their Mummies and Daddies went out for a curry (which is most definately not as tame as it sounds - imagine 400 football hooligans without the love of football, a little more respect for others and a good education crammed into a massive curry house playing endless rounds of drinking games) and i got very pissed. But to be fair everybody was pissed. The point is, i ended up talking to one of our Mummies about how i used to self harm, because it kind of was the best thing to do, as i'm not going to walk around scared anymore...so she is, well, i don't know what she is. But she'd perhaps be able to give me some moral support in approaching someone for help.
That's essentially what i was thinking. So i might talk to her.
In other, more uplifting news, or just a statement of a very stupid action, either way it's quite funny, i may perhaps be meeting up with an old "love" interest. For one reason only. And she is quite hot, so that may go very well. The only thing is her personality, but that can be ignored for the sake of what will probably happen.
I decided to because i need to start thinking of myself and not others. For over a year i was joined to another person and now maybe its time to just be myself for a while. And if that involves sleeping with hot people, well, all the better. Because it has been a while since the last time!
We'll see how things go, what happens and why. Either way it'll be a positive as all experiences are.
Friday, 7 November 2008
Thursday, 6 November 2008
This Aint Even Funny
For several days now i've been thinking of writing a blog post. But i always put it off. If i were to postulate an explanation i would have to say that i don't write about it so i don't have to think about it. because that's what writing has always been for me; a way of mulling things over, a way of digesting them and piecing together my thoughts, of concluding as to why i feel how i feel and the actions to take from thereafter.
The original title of the post was supposed to be "This aint even funny." It's been a recuring theme throughout the past few years and stems from a song by The Streets; Prangin' Out. This aint even funny, to me, is when you reach a point where you can't even laugh at yourself. But not in a humerous fashion. Because many of the things in life that happen aren't humerous but they are still fucking halarious. In a very, very, dry british way. Being dumped is fucking halarious; you'd never, however, laugh at someone if they had been. You'd laugh if their life was completely seperate from your own and you were being told a story from a friend of a friend, or through the television screen via the social phenomina that is Eastenders. It would be halarious then. And as long as that very dry humour is still present, things are funny. It's when, as Mike Skinner so articulates states; "this aint even funny" that you start to get worried. It becomes so serious that you can not even laugh at yourself. Because the trough has become so deep that even you, in your deepest self, know that things have become serious.
Anyway, the point of this is that it has not come to the point where it aint even funny. But, to be brutally honest, it's nearer than it ever has been for a while. It may well be very close. And i'm a bit of a mess. But it comes and goes. About 85% of the time i'm fine, it's just the rest that i worry about.
So, i think i should talk to someone. But it's having the ability to accept the reality of the situation, to escape from this university bubble and step out into the cold harsh reality of it all. Of accepting that i may have though i was better, wholly and completely, but in truth; i may not be.
Is anyone ever better?
The mean is a mathematical concept, it has no real bearing in reality. The mean is an amalgamation of statistics that vary greatly, it has a formulea applied to it and WHAM. There you go sir. You are offically abnormal. But how? When normal is simply a concept with no real bearing in reality? This is not the point though, and, whilst living in this university bubble, i can not really comment on the concreteness of reality.
I will try and write more. It does help to order things slightly, even if it is about and abstract concept and not human interaction. Ha. "Authentic human contact" is what our early experience sessions are. Mint.
Oh, and for the record, i came out to my mum on Friday, 31st October 2008. Via text message.
The original title of the post was supposed to be "This aint even funny." It's been a recuring theme throughout the past few years and stems from a song by The Streets; Prangin' Out. This aint even funny, to me, is when you reach a point where you can't even laugh at yourself. But not in a humerous fashion. Because many of the things in life that happen aren't humerous but they are still fucking halarious. In a very, very, dry british way. Being dumped is fucking halarious; you'd never, however, laugh at someone if they had been. You'd laugh if their life was completely seperate from your own and you were being told a story from a friend of a friend, or through the television screen via the social phenomina that is Eastenders. It would be halarious then. And as long as that very dry humour is still present, things are funny. It's when, as Mike Skinner so articulates states; "this aint even funny" that you start to get worried. It becomes so serious that you can not even laugh at yourself. Because the trough has become so deep that even you, in your deepest self, know that things have become serious.
Anyway, the point of this is that it has not come to the point where it aint even funny. But, to be brutally honest, it's nearer than it ever has been for a while. It may well be very close. And i'm a bit of a mess. But it comes and goes. About 85% of the time i'm fine, it's just the rest that i worry about.
So, i think i should talk to someone. But it's having the ability to accept the reality of the situation, to escape from this university bubble and step out into the cold harsh reality of it all. Of accepting that i may have though i was better, wholly and completely, but in truth; i may not be.
Is anyone ever better?
The mean is a mathematical concept, it has no real bearing in reality. The mean is an amalgamation of statistics that vary greatly, it has a formulea applied to it and WHAM. There you go sir. You are offically abnormal. But how? When normal is simply a concept with no real bearing in reality? This is not the point though, and, whilst living in this university bubble, i can not really comment on the concreteness of reality.
I will try and write more. It does help to order things slightly, even if it is about and abstract concept and not human interaction. Ha. "Authentic human contact" is what our early experience sessions are. Mint.
Oh, and for the record, i came out to my mum on Friday, 31st October 2008. Via text message.
Monday, 3 November 2008
From the Start
To clear my head. I find it quite invasive when, whilst in the library attempting to study, i can not manage to concentrate for more than 15 minutes without these issues popping up in my mind.
The GF and i have broken up. The last time we were together and in a relationship was a month ago tomorrow. For me, that is when we broke up. That was when i saw her and realised that i couldn't do it anymore; from then onwards it was a ticking clock. Don't get me wrong; i love her. And i always will, just not in the way thats needed. If only there were more than one word for love. I will always love her, always want to be there for her, i would do anything for her if she asked but i am not in love with her. And i couldn't have continued the way we were; so far apart, with no real..reason to stay together. And now she is gone. And we are a month on. And i have closure, we have talked; she is alright.
But there has been another person; someone who was initially just an object to distract my attention, but has now..well, i really quite like her. Quite a lot. And it's awful to say that, because it's not wholly true. I only realised what was happening until it was too late. Gosh, all this writing makes it real. Brings to life a touch of clarity which is what i've been missing lately. But, in essence, i like this girl, quite a lot, and i think there may be a chance that she likes me too. So i'm going to go for it. When she's back off reading week. Which is a blessing in disguise as it gives us some space from each other as it's all a bit of a head fuck. To be honest. Which, in itself indicates that its not the best thing ever to be doing but as they say, no regrets. And i would regret it if i didn't go for it.
Is it the best thing to be going straight from one relationship to another? [making the large assumption that that may infact happen] Perhaps not, but does it have to have positive or negative connotations? [on the assumption that it does indeed happen] No. As it's just a thing.
The title of this post was; "from the start." But i've not written anything of what i wanted. Perhaps as writing it brings home how true it all is, and, when living this university life, everything feels like a bubble. A little bubble with Halls and University and The City (where the clubs/pubs/bars live) in which anything can happen and it won't be real. But it is, and when things happen outside the bubble, it brings home just how real the real world is.
For now, at least, i am in desperate need of a fag. So, off i go to buy some tobacco.
The GF and i have broken up. The last time we were together and in a relationship was a month ago tomorrow. For me, that is when we broke up. That was when i saw her and realised that i couldn't do it anymore; from then onwards it was a ticking clock. Don't get me wrong; i love her. And i always will, just not in the way thats needed. If only there were more than one word for love. I will always love her, always want to be there for her, i would do anything for her if she asked but i am not in love with her. And i couldn't have continued the way we were; so far apart, with no real..reason to stay together. And now she is gone. And we are a month on. And i have closure, we have talked; she is alright.
But there has been another person; someone who was initially just an object to distract my attention, but has now..well, i really quite like her. Quite a lot. And it's awful to say that, because it's not wholly true. I only realised what was happening until it was too late. Gosh, all this writing makes it real. Brings to life a touch of clarity which is what i've been missing lately. But, in essence, i like this girl, quite a lot, and i think there may be a chance that she likes me too. So i'm going to go for it. When she's back off reading week. Which is a blessing in disguise as it gives us some space from each other as it's all a bit of a head fuck. To be honest. Which, in itself indicates that its not the best thing ever to be doing but as they say, no regrets. And i would regret it if i didn't go for it.
Is it the best thing to be going straight from one relationship to another? [making the large assumption that that may infact happen] Perhaps not, but does it have to have positive or negative connotations? [on the assumption that it does indeed happen] No. As it's just a thing.
The title of this post was; "from the start." But i've not written anything of what i wanted. Perhaps as writing it brings home how true it all is, and, when living this university life, everything feels like a bubble. A little bubble with Halls and University and The City (where the clubs/pubs/bars live) in which anything can happen and it won't be real. But it is, and when things happen outside the bubble, it brings home just how real the real world is.
For now, at least, i am in desperate need of a fag. So, off i go to buy some tobacco.
Monday, 20 October 2008
Letter
I don't know what i've been doing for the past year, i don't know who i've been kidding, or who i was trying to help. i don't even know if worked; i don't know if you're happier without me, or if you never wanted me there in the first place.
I remember the first time we said i love you to each other; we were in the jolly archers and i was highly pissed. so were you, i think. and i said it, because i thought it was what you wanted to hear. i feel like i've just lied to you, incesantly, i fell like every time i say i love you to you you know what i'm saying, you know i'm lying. because, in esscence, that's what i was doing. i do love you, but just not in the way that you wanted me to. i can never love you in the way that you want me to. because i fucked up. and i fucked up big time. i saw you, i felt what you felt and i just couldn't walk away, the plan was to make it better but maybe it just made it a hell of a lot worse. because you knew what i was doing. you knew. and you never said anything. you just carried on with it. i don't even know if this is true. I just feel like it is at the moment. i feel like i've wasted the past year, because if you're not happy, then there was no fucking point in it all. if you're just as sad as you were when i met you then there's been no FUCKING POINT in the past year. and i can't even talk to you to see how you are. how pathetic is that?
I just don't know. i feel so lost. i feel..i have no diea what i fee;. i feel like i want to be there, with you, but in the same relationship we had before. but i know thats wrong. i want to be friends, but with the relationship we had before. because that's what i felt when i was with you. i never loved you like you loved me. i loved you as a friend. and i don't know what deluded fantasy i was in but it lasted for so long and now i'm completely lost. i don't know what to do with myself. it's like i have nothing; nothing to make better. i have no idea where i'm supposed to go from here; if i'm just supposed to go on being happy or if i'm supposed to be sad because you're not with me. i've no idea. You said i made you happier; surely that was the point of everything? but it feels like the entire point of our relationship couldn't have been based around the sole point of making you happier. what the fuck could that have been about? what kind of mess am i in that..i don't understand myself sometimes. sometimes the urge to help clouds what i want for myself. but i just can't stand to see people in as much pain as i was. it's torture. and i mst of all know that.
i don't know how long this is going to take to resolve itself, maybe it never will. it's highly possible. maybe i'll be like this forever.
The question is suppose i'm trying to ask myself is; "how could i have put the happiness of someone else infront of mine for a year?" because that is literally what i did. and i don't know the answer. i just didn't want to see you hurt the way you did.
does it even matter if it was all a lie? because at the end of the day; you are happier. maybe the motives of our relationship don't matter, just as long as the end product is the same.
Darling, i wish i could have loved you the way you loved me. i wish so fucking hard. i could rip my arms in two if it would make me feel for you what you felt for me, but i can't. i just can't. and i wish i could. we would be the happiest couple on earth if i could, but i have tried, and it's impossible.
So that's why i called you. i couldn't take it anymore, i couldn't keep sacraficing myself for you; i had to put myself first for once. and now we're both alone and reasonably unhappy. so look where that got us. a big fucking step was that wasn't it. well done there me.
i don't know what i'm going to do, or how i'm going to go about it, but i just want you to be happy; without me. because i can't keep sacraficing myself. i don't know if i'll ever find someone else, i suppose that's natural though, but when you see me next, i don't want you to be sad. Remember the happy times we spent together. when there were no arguements and no knife cutting silences.
I do love you, and i will always love you, in the same way i loved you when we were together. just that it wasn't the way you wanted me to love you.
Always.
I remember the first time we said i love you to each other; we were in the jolly archers and i was highly pissed. so were you, i think. and i said it, because i thought it was what you wanted to hear. i feel like i've just lied to you, incesantly, i fell like every time i say i love you to you you know what i'm saying, you know i'm lying. because, in esscence, that's what i was doing. i do love you, but just not in the way that you wanted me to. i can never love you in the way that you want me to. because i fucked up. and i fucked up big time. i saw you, i felt what you felt and i just couldn't walk away, the plan was to make it better but maybe it just made it a hell of a lot worse. because you knew what i was doing. you knew. and you never said anything. you just carried on with it. i don't even know if this is true. I just feel like it is at the moment. i feel like i've wasted the past year, because if you're not happy, then there was no fucking point in it all. if you're just as sad as you were when i met you then there's been no FUCKING POINT in the past year. and i can't even talk to you to see how you are. how pathetic is that?
I just don't know. i feel so lost. i feel..i have no diea what i fee;. i feel like i want to be there, with you, but in the same relationship we had before. but i know thats wrong. i want to be friends, but with the relationship we had before. because that's what i felt when i was with you. i never loved you like you loved me. i loved you as a friend. and i don't know what deluded fantasy i was in but it lasted for so long and now i'm completely lost. i don't know what to do with myself. it's like i have nothing; nothing to make better. i have no idea where i'm supposed to go from here; if i'm just supposed to go on being happy or if i'm supposed to be sad because you're not with me. i've no idea. You said i made you happier; surely that was the point of everything? but it feels like the entire point of our relationship couldn't have been based around the sole point of making you happier. what the fuck could that have been about? what kind of mess am i in that..i don't understand myself sometimes. sometimes the urge to help clouds what i want for myself. but i just can't stand to see people in as much pain as i was. it's torture. and i mst of all know that.
i don't know how long this is going to take to resolve itself, maybe it never will. it's highly possible. maybe i'll be like this forever.
The question is suppose i'm trying to ask myself is; "how could i have put the happiness of someone else infront of mine for a year?" because that is literally what i did. and i don't know the answer. i just didn't want to see you hurt the way you did.
does it even matter if it was all a lie? because at the end of the day; you are happier. maybe the motives of our relationship don't matter, just as long as the end product is the same.
Darling, i wish i could have loved you the way you loved me. i wish so fucking hard. i could rip my arms in two if it would make me feel for you what you felt for me, but i can't. i just can't. and i wish i could. we would be the happiest couple on earth if i could, but i have tried, and it's impossible.
So that's why i called you. i couldn't take it anymore, i couldn't keep sacraficing myself for you; i had to put myself first for once. and now we're both alone and reasonably unhappy. so look where that got us. a big fucking step was that wasn't it. well done there me.
i don't know what i'm going to do, or how i'm going to go about it, but i just want you to be happy; without me. because i can't keep sacraficing myself. i don't know if i'll ever find someone else, i suppose that's natural though, but when you see me next, i don't want you to be sad. Remember the happy times we spent together. when there were no arguements and no knife cutting silences.
I do love you, and i will always love you, in the same way i loved you when we were together. just that it wasn't the way you wanted me to love you.
Always.
Saturday, 18 October 2008
A Week On
So, it's been a week. Or 6 days. But, time has passed.
I don't feel so flacid anymore, i just feel slightly relieved that it's all over. That the unhappy times and the arguements and the ridiculous phone calls where we discussed nothing of consequence have stopped. Relieved that some kind of a decision has been made. And, in my heart of hearts, i think She will feel that too. It was pointless carrying on till christmas as, truely, we both knew what was going to happen. How it was all going to pan out. At least now, (if there is a positive in any of this slimy stew of emotions) we can both see each other at christmas..and hopefully still be friends.
It's always sad when things come to an end. I was looking at some pictures a few days ago and realised how long it was since we were both happy together. Those are the pictures i call the "happy times" because they were the good times, the times worth remembering and tresuring, not the arguements or the reasons why we split up. Watching "Gavin and Stacy" last night reminded me of the happy times, that there can still be happy times with other people, that She will have happy times with others too.
There was a sketch, last night. Gavin and Stacy were sitting on the beach front eating a try of chips.
Gavin; "last chip, here, you have it."
*Stacy takes chip, bites half off and gives Gavin the rest*
*Gavin bites all but the last bit of the chip and hands it back to Stacy*
*Stacy eats the last chip*
It's slightly cheesy but very sweet. And it made me smile.
I don't feel so flacid anymore, i just feel slightly relieved that it's all over. That the unhappy times and the arguements and the ridiculous phone calls where we discussed nothing of consequence have stopped. Relieved that some kind of a decision has been made. And, in my heart of hearts, i think She will feel that too. It was pointless carrying on till christmas as, truely, we both knew what was going to happen. How it was all going to pan out. At least now, (if there is a positive in any of this slimy stew of emotions) we can both see each other at christmas..and hopefully still be friends.
It's always sad when things come to an end. I was looking at some pictures a few days ago and realised how long it was since we were both happy together. Those are the pictures i call the "happy times" because they were the good times, the times worth remembering and tresuring, not the arguements or the reasons why we split up. Watching "Gavin and Stacy" last night reminded me of the happy times, that there can still be happy times with other people, that She will have happy times with others too.
There was a sketch, last night. Gavin and Stacy were sitting on the beach front eating a try of chips.
Gavin; "last chip, here, you have it."
*Stacy takes chip, bites half off and gives Gavin the rest*
*Gavin bites all but the last bit of the chip and hands it back to Stacy*
*Stacy eats the last chip*
It's slightly cheesy but very sweet. And it made me smile.
Sunday, 12 October 2008
Flacid
We broke up. We'd been tgether for over a year, i'd moved away and she was in london. It was always going to end but now it has. And there's nothing like the cold harsh touch of reality to bring it all home.
I'm not going to say i didn't want this to happen, or that it's completely out of the blue, because it's not. I'd wanted to break up when we went to university. Then we went to university and i bottled it. During freshers week i thought it would be alright, that we could maybe manage, and then i realised how unhappy i was with the situation. How..compressed i felt. I'm a logical person; i'm going to be here for 7 years, she's going to be in london for 3, what kind of a relationship is that? It's basicaly not a relationship. Basically.
I'm not torn up; i didn't love her in that way. I feel like a flacid penis, just after sex. All the fun and enjoyment and orgasm has happened and now it's gone. And there is the recovery period. Where nothing much happens; you just mourn over the sudden burst of elation which is now past, never to be recaptured. Those moments, they are what is gone. And i can't get the back.
So, i sit here..with what? My flacid body. I sit here, alone, with my flacid body.
I'm not going to say i didn't want this to happen, or that it's completely out of the blue, because it's not. I'd wanted to break up when we went to university. Then we went to university and i bottled it. During freshers week i thought it would be alright, that we could maybe manage, and then i realised how unhappy i was with the situation. How..compressed i felt. I'm a logical person; i'm going to be here for 7 years, she's going to be in london for 3, what kind of a relationship is that? It's basicaly not a relationship. Basically.
I'm not torn up; i didn't love her in that way. I feel like a flacid penis, just after sex. All the fun and enjoyment and orgasm has happened and now it's gone. And there is the recovery period. Where nothing much happens; you just mourn over the sudden burst of elation which is now past, never to be recaptured. Those moments, they are what is gone. And i can't get the back.
So, i sit here..with what? My flacid body. I sit here, alone, with my flacid body.
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
Head Fuck
Well, i suppose i just better come out and say it.
But it's late and i need to be up tomorrow and this requires a lot of articulation to truly capture the essence of what i feel. And so i don't sound like a cock. So i'll write it tomorrow.
But it's late and i need to be up tomorrow and this requires a lot of articulation to truly capture the essence of what i feel. And so i don't sound like a cock. So i'll write it tomorrow.
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