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The first day of December. Winter's rolling in, snow's on the ground, and of course it's pretty bloody cold.
Snow this early is a bit of a rarity. Let's just chalk it up to climate change... I haven't really been enjoying it like I normally do, though. It's just... There. Pretty, I guess. Slippery to walk on.
I hear I'm a little depressing recently. Well... Maybe. I'm becoming a little sick of the routine. Where is my time going? It's December already! I haven't been in sixth form all that long... But we're halfway through the year. Where's my time?
Always look on the bright side of life.
I generally do, but sometimes I need a reminder. When work's a sledgehammer and it's cold outside, it's nice to have something to cheer you up. A hot drink when you come in... Talking to friends... Thinking of those few special people in your life and smiling.
I want to stretch out and relax properly, but I can't right now. I'll give it a go on Saturday. I'm looking forward to the last half of December, when Christmas shopping is done and you can just enjoy the holiday. A little while away.
I decided what I wanted to write about, but I don't really want to write it.
Because there are people I know on here, I don't want to be honest about everything. I guess... I don't like people to worry or be concerned.
As I said, I'm fine.
Just getting home, having a coughing fit and throwing up wasn't what I needed. I guess being exhausted from school made me a little more fragile... Sobbing into the sink, head resting on the tap, while my mum talks about getting a doctor's appointment. I mumbled incoherently;
'Honestly, I'm fine.'
Taking it easy all day doesn't actually make me feel better.
Seeing as I have a doctor's appointment now and I was stopped from working, my day was spent indoors on the couch.
Sorted out my GCSE Art... Played Fable II again... Did some computing homework...
I want to do something, I really do. But when even a little extra effort brings coughing and wheezing, it's a little discouraging.
I feel like a fake. It's just a cough. I'm making too big a deal about it. Nobody wants to hear about this; there are many more much more (alliteration!) ill.
Today felt productive.
Well, I got my homework done, and it's not insanely late... Which is good. Doing a bit at a time, giving yourself breaks halfway, well... It feels good. Like you're being effective at getting things done.
Of course, I'd forgotten to look at the feedback on my physics presentation. Uhm, oops. Well... No. I'm doing my Christmas shopping now. Some of it, most of it... Argh. I like to see before I buy, but I'm not really going to get to the shops anytime soon...
Apologies for the mundane-ness of this entry. This is my life.
It's just you and me. Just us.
You stand in front of me, facing the sky. I stare at your silhouette as the stars fall and burst around us. There is no noise, just colour and light, burning patterns on my eyes. I want to turn and run away, to hide, abandon you, but I can't.
I tear my eyes from the chaos above and drag them back down to you. Tears trickle down my face at last.
So many memories, of me, of you, too many.
And it's the end of the world and I still can't reach you.
Heart pounding, I look up into the audience. They're cast in shadow, but if I squint, I can see the distant figures of friends left behind. There's no getting out of it now.
Standing on stage, shuffling round to accomodate other pairs, buzzer clutched in hand. I'm shaking. Adrenaline. This is adrenaline. I quiver with anticipation.
It's starting! Get ready! 24 other teams wait for the first question.
Too slow! Just missed it! Hammer it, hammer it! No time to think, just press and hope. What? Still not us? This is rigged!
At the last instance... Miraculously, we press first.
Winter is always a little magical, isn't it?
In comes the snow and the frost, encasing all in white and twisting the world into pale beauty. Everything seems to stand still. Frozen branches form a lattice over the road, like a tunnel of ice. It's pretty, this whiteness. Perfect, pure, protected.
Rivers and ponds become new paths over the land. We daren't try them for fear of a soaking, but they cut through the countryside, a little more solid. Puddles are now interesting. Breath condenses in the air like little wispy clouds. So wonderful.
Still, it's bloody cold, isn't it?
The ninth. One month until I'm 17, I suppose...
I gsuppose I should apply for my provisional driver's license. Everyone else seems pretty excited about driving... And, yeah, I guess I'd like to be able to do it. Yet I'm ambivalent at best.
Hey, world! Because I'm at a certain age, you'll let me loose in a huge fast machine of death? Really? Do you have any idea about me? Am I mature enough to handle this, or sensible enough to go about it correctly?
Most would say I'll be fine, the 'sensible' type. Cold comfort? Well, I'm still nervous.
So, I guess I'm feeling the Christmas spirit now.
This evening, the town I go to school in held a late-night shopping evening. It's a cosy, pretty, old-fashioned kind of place; great for tourists. A bunch of my friends were heading down there, so I decided to see what it was all about.
Lights blazed against the night sky, glowing silver and gold over the throngs of cheery shoppers. Stalls lined the streets; sellers called out their wares. Buskers and bands provided music to waft over the punters.
Times like this are best with friends. Why not you?
'It takes a fool to remain sane.'
Mmmm. I could agree with that. When I look around, all I see is madness; politics and war. There are probably more reasons why I don't keep up with the news than just lack of time.
While I like to have some knowledge of what's going on, the more I get into it, the less I like it. Which is why I stay out of it. Perhaps why I'm pretty impressionable opinion-wise; I won't argue the point with you too deeply. I'm too ignorant to do that.
Still. Don't lie to us.
This is an apology of sorts.
I don't know how to deal with this. So if I don't ask the right questions or say the right things... I'm just learning, OK? I don't know how to face this head-on, yet. Avoiding the topic doesn't mean I don't want to talk about it; it just means I don't know how to deal with it.
It's all new to me.
So if I send mixed messages, I'm sorry. I want to establish a stable connection. It just takes me time... A little bit more each day.
Pictures are a good sign.
There are certain things that I would like to do, but an invisible set of rules holds me back.
'You can't,' whispers some corner of my mind, 'You're not allowed. It's too much. Think of what could happen.'
I think, perhaps, one can tie this feeling to awkwardness or shyness. Help! I don't know what to say, what to do... So I say and do nothing. I torture myself in silence.
'You should do something,' the inner voice says. 'Do something to make this go away. Reach out, go on, break the barrier. Do something...'
'...Just don't do that.'
Here is a problem. What is the solution?
Well, perhaps, it would be incorrect to call it a 'problem'. A conundrum, a puzzle or a riddle would perhaps describe it better. If this were an ordinary sort of question, the two people involved would have set roles; one to ask, one to answer.
This is something we have both constructed, I suppose. From the the first tentative foundations to the slowly appearing scaffolding, this has been a joint venture. I'm starting to trust that we're in this together, that you're building this with me.
What will we make? We'll see.
Que sera sera.
What will be, will be.
It's one of my favourite phrases. It helps me relax... If something goes wrong and there's nothing you can do, it's useless to worry. What will happen will happen. If it's been done, you can't undo it.
In the same way, you shouldn't give up on the future. While we're still in now, you can change things. Work harder. Expand your knowledge, test yourself. Step out and fly.
Still, the future's a long way away. I'd like to relax. I'm so tired... I have a headache... I'll catch up soon, Mr. Future.
So much to do, so little time. Events are closing in on me, rushing in like a relentless tide. Haplessly I keep my head above water.
Just a little longer, then you'll give me space. A little longer until I can breathe out. A little, a little, a little more...
What keeps me going? Glucose, I suppose. No, really... I suppose the notion of the future keeps me going. Come on, do your work now, and you'll get good grades. Good grades will get you to university, then into a job you'll love.
...So what will keep me going afterwards?
A few words;
Melancholy, dolorous, softly, creeping, whisper, magic, flight;
feather, soaring, plummeting, swooping, laughing, brilliance, light.
I look behind me and you're not there. Who are you? Why do I expect you to be behind me? I must be going mad... I can't remember what has happened, yet my mind tells me that imagination is truth.
One bird. Two birds. Three.
Are you following me? It's absurd to think so; how can a ghost stalk? I'm certain that you can't exist, because my world does not allow for such impossibilities. Why, why, why, why..?
...Why aren't you really real?
Not enough sleep. Not enough warmth. Not enough peace.
This is the start of my holiday, but it hasn't been particularly restful. Ah, well, there's tomorrow. No! Don't think of that. Eventually, yes, think of it; but you need quiet today, and a day to read and write and think of nothing important.
Thinking is good. Writing is better. It's time I gave fiction another shot, I think... Perhaps I'll write from the middle this time. I never know where to start.
Of course it won't be perfect. Gather it up and go; perfection can come later. Let's just write.
Snow, snow, snow...
I can see the magic as it first falls, blanketing the land. Familiar features blur and become one, a blank canvas. Pristine snow is, indeed, a thing of beauty.
However humans find that they must carry out certain mundane tasks in the midst of this seasonal coating. Things to do, places to be. The way we live simply does not allow for huddling around, staring out in admiration. No, no, we cannot waste time like that.
These things have to be done. Come on, now, it's only frozen water. Be careful as you go. Break a leg.
It's a funny thing to say, but seeing distant friends always leaves me with a slight taint of unreality.
In fact, anything much out of the ordinary will leave me wondering if it's really happening. To see friends made over t'internet sitting around in my house, laughing, talking, just leaves me... I don't know. It soon passes.
It happens when events I've been looking forward to for a long, long time come to pass. Standing metres away from a treasured idol, saying words I never thought I'd get to say, standing on a stage.
Silly; these really are my memories.
Glasses. Eyepatches. Waistcoats. Long coats. Scarves. Top hats. Fingerless gloves. Long boots. Converses. Stripes. Long-ish hair.
Unconventional. Humourous. Happy. Not overbearing. A little shy, perhaps. Adorable. Dashing. Gentlemanly. Kind. Intelligent. Helpful. A good listener.
Walks in the countryside. Hot chocolate. Sitting around, just talking. Playing games. Reading together. Leaning on your shoulder. Anything.
Or you could just smile, and see how it goes. None of the above matters, really. If you asked me to write a list, that's what I'd put. This isn't a message, it's something to fill space. If I like you, I like you. Case closed.
You know, I should probably be more organised. Perhaps I should start to structure my life a little more.
Lists. Everybody likes lists. Let's make lists!
Lists of all the things I wanted to do and never did; lists of the things I have to do now; lists of things I want to buy; lists of quotes and songs I like; lists of lists of lists.
Possibly we could all agree that being organised is 'good'. It would be easier. Yet when you put it that way, it become less appealing to me. Why should I be perfect? It's unreasonable.
Futility, for me, is a curse that settles late at night.
I find it hard to do anything without a deadline looming or a pressing sense of urgency. This is a fact. Days will pass where I mean to start that project a little ahead of time, but nothing is achieved. It is a weakness and should be remedied.
This flaw has a couple of unfortunate outcomes; great amounts of avoidable stress, and fretting late at night when I can't get much done anyway.
Trying to do something you thought you could manage and failing is depressing. So is relearning.
Oh. Would you look at that? Christmas Eve is upon us. Fancy that.
I'd buck the predicted trend and write about something different, but... I don't really want to.
I guess I'm looking forward to it. Yes. I just feel a little apathetic about it. It'll be fine on the day, I'm sure.
A little niggling worry at the back of my mind says I haven't done enough schoolwork. Next week will have to be a slog. I'm going to have to force myself. It probably won't work. Nonetheless, it will have to. January exams are merciless; haven't you heard?
I doubt I have little original to add to any kind of Christmas-themed merriment. Whatever I want to say will have gone before.
As such, I'd like to just wish good cheer and happiness to you all. I'm a little late in writing this, but nonetheless, it's yours to have. A wish from one who you may want to think of as a friend. Well, if you want to, that is.
Because really, in terms of words, all I have to give are my own. All I can give that is new is something from me. Mine.
Blue + Green = Cyan
These corridors are all the same. Just grey, lines, lines, neon strips. I'm so damn bored! Let me out, out, out... Out of this prison ship. Just let me walk on green grass with blue skies above. It's all I want. All I dream of, now. All I can see when I close my eyes... Just skies. Skies above my head, not metal.
I can't remember why I'm in this cage. The others all look the other way when I shamble past. Just, please, talk to me...
I'm not that strange, or mad, or bad. I just want...
Blue + Red = Magenta
Hmph. Will we never arrive? We've been floating here so long... Doubtless they've forgotten us, us out here, us on the fringe.
The scurrying underlings insist we're not prisoners. Lies! I know the other captains are on board. One's lost his head. He always was a lunatic, anyhow. The other seems to be playing along. Trusting idiot.
Always so reasonable, isn't he? Gentle, noble Captain Leader. Wonderful, adored, shining golden hilt. And us? The edge and the blade? He could be so much better if it weren't for us.
This confinement is driving me crazy. Please, crazy, quicker.
Red + Green = Yellow
Keep you head. There's no point in panic; one must be rational in the face of the enemy. It's what they're expecting, anyway. Always the strong one, always the leader. They can bite and snap and gripe all they like; they need me. Of course they need me.
This ship isn't going anywhere. We're swinging round in a wide circle, is all. Circles, circles. I've tried talking to the crew. Be kind to them, and they'll reply in kind.
They're keeping us apart. I'm glad, somehow. They're so brilliant, so great, so good; I'm nothing. A golden sham.
Apologies for the abstraction of the last couple of entries. It happens when I'm making up a few days at a time, you see. It was bound to happen; my computer use always slips over the holidays.
I'd like to write more fiction, but I don't know where to start. It's always the trouble. It's why I don't get any long creative projects of my own finished.
Maybe I should collaborate? You tell me what to write, I write it and embellish it.
Or perhaps I should gather all my past work and mash it into a fantastical paste. Fun.
Today! Today's finally here!
Of course, today is always here, tomorrow never comes, and yesterday is but an illusion. All we have is now, thoughts of the future, and memories of the past.
If you want me to choose my tomorrows, well... I'd like to have more yesterdays with you. Just talking, doing whatever. Silly things. I wish our surroundings were quieter, or we just had nothing to do.
Nothing to do is nothing with you.
Well, wouldn't that be nice? I should give you a call. Phone calls kinda freak me out, though. I can never sit still. Ahahaha!
The last of December. The last of 2010. Again, the years have rolled past beyond my control.
It irks me to see things like, 'Ah, 2010 was such a shit year.' I guess it's all relative, but, still. Everything has ups and downs... Much like a roller-coaster. Or a spiral staircase.
For me, I'd say it's been a good year. Of course my recollection is faded and tinted with nostalgia and amnesia in equal parts. But, hey, I passed my exams, I met a whole bunch of amazing new people, and I'm happy right now.
As for next year..?
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