Fallling into Friday
I more fell into today than anything else. After Peaches got picked up last night, I journeyed down to the doorstep for a smoke. At about 12, Mum came out to walk the dog, so I joined her in my dressing gown. The evening was still - but we talked more about trivium. That's all we ever really talk about now. Classic teenage or adult stuff. What the next day will include, what'll be for tea, am I going to Uni? - Do I want kids? None of the above I can really answer right now.
I'm pretty sure about uni, if I get the right A levels, and my heart's fairly set on Philosophy. If I can, I'd love to PHD in it. Dr. McKechnie. Has a ring to it. So I fell asleep listening to some bizarre radio play about anxiety and treating patients with it. My Bed's a few feet away from the computer, so I hook up the headphones, and lie on the other end of the bed, always terrified I'll fall asleep and strangle myself on the wire in the night. Not terrified - just aware. I'm not sure how afraid of death I am - but that's easy to say at 16. Too easy to say.
I woke up, the room a mess of CD's, underwear and other assorted junk, the room now ugly with the absence of light from the night. There's a certain mood my room phases into past about 10 in the evening. I switch the large lamp at the back on, and turn the main light off. The clutter suddenly becomes relaxing and passive. For years that's what I've always been doing, and usually alone. I can just play out the rest of the evening as I want. Chatting online, playing some pointless video game or finding some other way to keep me up, and wreck me for the next day.
I think I barked at Mum when she tried to wake me up this morning. When I eventually did get up, she was walking the dog. Remember, this is 7 in the morning. I must've really pissed her off. I don't know what I'm doing here, what I'm supposed to be doing. Who I'm supposed to be. I'm just another sentient - right? Another sentient with the same classic worries as the next. Or I'm traumatized by all the dope I've smoked.
When Peaches came over yesterday, we went out and met Matt near Little Hatts (The park) and hid in the woods. Matt got his pipe out, and him and Peaches got pretty messed up. I abstained. I'd felt more and more fractured and depressed the more the evening had gone on. I didn't want to blind myself with drugs. I didn't want to hide for once. Matt toddled off, so Peaches and I went back to lie in bed. I talked a lot about Angela, a friend who died a few years ago, how I still hadn't got over it. It seems weird now - weird that I didn't tell anyone, and only now am I coming to terms with it.
I knew her parents pretty well, and we used to chat about it every now and then after she disappeared. I doubt they'll ever really get over it. I already have, but I still see people in the street sometimes, still hear her voice on other people and consider that just for a second, for the smallest second, it might be her. It was never love, never attraction, just very very close friendship. I knew her inside out, back to front, and likewise. When she died, I became a hermit. Any contact I ever did have, I tried to be as obscure and deranged as possible. It's still a part of me - I still strive to have a different view just to rebel, or say something odd just to seem nuts. I don't have opinions, I just have quotes I've heard, ideas I like the taste of, words that nurse my ego for using them. I'm a selfish cunt.
It's ten past now. 40 minutes till the end of break, and until computing (2 hours of solid boredom) begins. I like the teacher though. Gareth. He's one of the most human and compassionate people I've ever met, but it isn't obvious. It's only when he's given a situation that he chooses to employ any qualities of compassion that he has, and he seems to have a tonne. I must've looked pretty shit one lesson, so he took me outside and I told him the truth when he asked. He was totally understanding. There was obvious a teacher-student gap, but I wish I'd known him as someone my age. He'd never touch dope. He'd never drink so much that he passed out. I always used to think he was boring, but there's more to him, much more to him than that.
It seems to me a lot recently that there are no arbiters or morality, God not included - but remember, I'm an atheist. There's no sudden clarity, there's only different points of view. When you realise you don't love someone, you don't realise it. You just change your mindset through something that has or hasn't happened. You did love them, solely because you thought and believed, no - KNEW that you did. It's not as if you break through the ice of the arctic and suddenly realise that it was false. There can be no false beliefs, no false love, no false knowledge. Not if you know, TRULY KNOW that it's true. If you're proved wrong and change your mind, sure - a different mindset, but for as long as you kept you opinions the way you did, and you knew it was how you felt, then you truly believed it at the time. Anyway, planes are passing overhead like audio poetry, and the clouds have glazed the sky. I'm bored of sitting here already, and you're probably bored of reading this, so I'm going to disappear.
Bonsoir for now,
Alex.
I'm pretty sure about uni, if I get the right A levels, and my heart's fairly set on Philosophy. If I can, I'd love to PHD in it. Dr. McKechnie. Has a ring to it. So I fell asleep listening to some bizarre radio play about anxiety and treating patients with it. My Bed's a few feet away from the computer, so I hook up the headphones, and lie on the other end of the bed, always terrified I'll fall asleep and strangle myself on the wire in the night. Not terrified - just aware. I'm not sure how afraid of death I am - but that's easy to say at 16. Too easy to say.
I woke up, the room a mess of CD's, underwear and other assorted junk, the room now ugly with the absence of light from the night. There's a certain mood my room phases into past about 10 in the evening. I switch the large lamp at the back on, and turn the main light off. The clutter suddenly becomes relaxing and passive. For years that's what I've always been doing, and usually alone. I can just play out the rest of the evening as I want. Chatting online, playing some pointless video game or finding some other way to keep me up, and wreck me for the next day.
I think I barked at Mum when she tried to wake me up this morning. When I eventually did get up, she was walking the dog. Remember, this is 7 in the morning. I must've really pissed her off. I don't know what I'm doing here, what I'm supposed to be doing. Who I'm supposed to be. I'm just another sentient - right? Another sentient with the same classic worries as the next. Or I'm traumatized by all the dope I've smoked.
When Peaches came over yesterday, we went out and met Matt near Little Hatts (The park) and hid in the woods. Matt got his pipe out, and him and Peaches got pretty messed up. I abstained. I'd felt more and more fractured and depressed the more the evening had gone on. I didn't want to blind myself with drugs. I didn't want to hide for once. Matt toddled off, so Peaches and I went back to lie in bed. I talked a lot about Angela, a friend who died a few years ago, how I still hadn't got over it. It seems weird now - weird that I didn't tell anyone, and only now am I coming to terms with it.
I knew her parents pretty well, and we used to chat about it every now and then after she disappeared. I doubt they'll ever really get over it. I already have, but I still see people in the street sometimes, still hear her voice on other people and consider that just for a second, for the smallest second, it might be her. It was never love, never attraction, just very very close friendship. I knew her inside out, back to front, and likewise. When she died, I became a hermit. Any contact I ever did have, I tried to be as obscure and deranged as possible. It's still a part of me - I still strive to have a different view just to rebel, or say something odd just to seem nuts. I don't have opinions, I just have quotes I've heard, ideas I like the taste of, words that nurse my ego for using them. I'm a selfish cunt.
It's ten past now. 40 minutes till the end of break, and until computing (2 hours of solid boredom) begins. I like the teacher though. Gareth. He's one of the most human and compassionate people I've ever met, but it isn't obvious. It's only when he's given a situation that he chooses to employ any qualities of compassion that he has, and he seems to have a tonne. I must've looked pretty shit one lesson, so he took me outside and I told him the truth when he asked. He was totally understanding. There was obvious a teacher-student gap, but I wish I'd known him as someone my age. He'd never touch dope. He'd never drink so much that he passed out. I always used to think he was boring, but there's more to him, much more to him than that.
It seems to me a lot recently that there are no arbiters or morality, God not included - but remember, I'm an atheist. There's no sudden clarity, there's only different points of view. When you realise you don't love someone, you don't realise it. You just change your mindset through something that has or hasn't happened. You did love them, solely because you thought and believed, no - KNEW that you did. It's not as if you break through the ice of the arctic and suddenly realise that it was false. There can be no false beliefs, no false love, no false knowledge. Not if you know, TRULY KNOW that it's true. If you're proved wrong and change your mind, sure - a different mindset, but for as long as you kept you opinions the way you did, and you knew it was how you felt, then you truly believed it at the time. Anyway, planes are passing overhead like audio poetry, and the clouds have glazed the sky. I'm bored of sitting here already, and you're probably bored of reading this, so I'm going to disappear.
Bonsoir for now,
Alex.
posted by Redshift at 4:58 AM
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