so many roads bear your name
agh I hate this lap top. it just deleted what I was writing. agh.
I was once again trying to do that 10 things for 10 people. it mainly consisted of "i'm bored of this/very very bored/you're a tosser/blah blah/rubbash/someshitaboutshuggar" and one thing that I want to say to someone but I'm being stubborn and weird. you've seen it before, a few of you. I'll sit in silence and scowl, and you'll not know what I'm thinking, and I'll be annoyed at you for it, when it's clearly my fault for being uncommunicative and emotionally retarded.
aghhhh.
it's funny how you're always more honest in the night time. not you, you always hide everything behind a joke. Me. I'm always more honest in the night time. I guess because no one is awake then it's almost as if no one will read what I'm writing. But then if I really didn't want anyone to read what I wrote I wouldn't type it here.gotcha miss.
oh I don't know. I should go to sleep. I've made what I, in my idiotic mind.. no, thats not what I want to say.
I'm confused.
you've been in very little contact, which makes me feel like you ain't bothered about us being friends. that's unlikely to be the case, but thats the way the cookie crumbles, or whatever.
wanna go to the pub?
oh wait, you're all in london.
I don't know if it's harder being the one who moves away, or the one who stays behind. If you are the one who leaves, then you kinda half expect that everything stops when you turn your back... or that people will be in as much contact with you as they would be if you were still there. But then if you're the one who stays I guess you just carry on, you forget about whoever it is who's gone or you think that they're busy with all their new stuff.
I've been both, and from where I am right now,... it's shit leaving, because people don't call you to go out. they don't call because you aren't around, and you can't come out. so you can't see your friends at the pub, and you stop talking on the phone, because you don't need to arrange the pub, or discuss what happened during the pub times... you have no new injokes to share, little common ground... the friendships get stale... obviously that isn't always the case, and I'm jumping the gun a bit. Oh I don't know. I guess it's the Natural Selection of friendships. some people you are friends with mainly because of proximity, actualcommon ground, others you manage to stay close to, however far apart you physically are.
I pretty much managed to whittle my friends down enough while I was there. I guess I don't really want to lose anymore of you. Most of you... well I think distance will make us.. not closer.. but better friends, because we'll not be spending all our time together laying in a gutter, or dancing at frog, but writing letters and holding actual conversations. but some people... I didn't think that our friendship rested soley on... well it seems to. in the time that I've been away (not just since I moved out of london, i mean since I LEFT, like went travelling etc) that it's always been me getting in contact.
isn't the internet a wonderful thing, friends? me and katy are discussing whether we should really have it in our new flat. I'm torn. I think I'd rather not have it. there's no real need for the internet, other than we are both completely retarded, phone-wise, and so it would be easier to stay in contact... but then it's not real contact... and it sucks you in. I'd spend all my time on here instead of having an actual life.
There are a few things that people have said that have stuck with me, lodged in my mind. One of them was something an old person said... (or maybe i's from that bloody baz lurhman song) that the older you get, the more you regret not using your life properly when you had it. Not using your body when it was still young and supple... not using your mind when it was still bright and active and easy to learn new things...I wonder how many of our generation will rue the hours spent staring at words on a screen and not actaully LIVED.
the thing about the internet is, it's like we're all living in little boxes that we can communicate through. Pretty soon we won't even need to exist outside of them, it seems like our life signs will be tested by whether we were fully active on certain webpages or something.
I can easily spend my days like this....
get up around midday... put the computer on. maybe sit infront of the telly at the same time. after a while, get some breakfast. maybe have a shower. think about what I meant to do in the day. carry on typing. download some music, chat to some people. click refresh. think how bored I am. change positions on the sofa a few times. maybe arrange to go out later on in the evening. drag myself away from the computer, get changed, eat some more, get a drink, check emails, go out, get off my face because otherwise I might as well be sat at a computer screen. come home. maybe post some rubbish on a blog. go to bed. repeat.
I think about what I could be doing with my time... how much happier I'd be if I got enough sleep at night, got up in the day and was Constructive. went to work. read books. went for walks. visited places. wrote letters to my friends. listened to cds not mp3s. vinyl would be better, but hell, I'm not that cool. maybe interacted with some actual real people. ones stood infront of me, and not at the other end of some wires and a screen that is most likely damaging my eyesight terribly.
I keep on typing. whats more, I type self-obsessed, pseudo-intellectual, emotionally retarded (because it's a cowards way, isn't it, the internet. no real communication, but all the communication in the modern world) drivel on a journal website, so my friends list can see how BLOODY CLEVER I THINK I AM. or something.
I'm listening to eric clapton. I'm not in the least bothered what anyone thinks about that...(.but here is my justification anyway (I've been taught well by the nme)) my dad made me a tape when I was younger, an eric clapton tape. I couldn't sleep at night. probably the same reason i cant sleep ever, really. I was really quite young. I used to listen to it on the stereo my brother passed down to me, no cd player on it. eric clapton. One side was just instrumental, acoustic. maybe all of it was, I can't remember. I used to miss my dad a lot when I was a child. it was a good tape. layla is a lovely song. and tears in heaven. I remember dad telling me it was about his son. it must be horrible to have your child die before you. But then a parent dying... not the best subject, enough of that.
I just leant over to get a drink of squash. Katy gave me a straw in it. Straws mainly remind me of one of two things. one is how we always drank through straws to get drunker, faster, and the trick I used to do of downing a whole bottle by putting a straw in it. The other is of when my grandad was dying, in hospital. He couldn't lift himself up to drink, so my dad put straws in all of his cups, and held them to my grandad's mouth. I remember him rubbing my grandads chest, because "the thing about straws is you always pick up a lot of wind", and I don't think my grandad had the strength to even burp. My grandad was good. he was funny. he made jokes, and wore a big black furry hat, it looked russian. it's a silly thing to say, and probably not true, but I don't expect he'd be too proud of me really. But then he lived a very different life to me. It's easy to joke about how your relatives are dissapointed in you, but when they aren't around to hug you and tell you, as they obviously would, that whatever you did they would love you, it's not so funny.
yeah.
so it's late now. i'm going to bed. hope you're all well. xx