Sleepwalking my way through life: November 2005



"Six"

Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Wellity wellity wellity.

I log on to Guild Wars, ready to save the day form the evil Charr that plague the lands. My smile soon fades however as my cape loads up. The symbol, a work of sexiness, the cape itself black with ragged tears at the bottom. Although the cape is sexiness personified, it's what it represents that saddens me.

Back in my single-digit level days I recklessly joined a guild that had the coolest cape, disregarding the absolute fuckwits that wore it. I don't mean the members, I mean the leaders. They were two prime examples of noobs. They spoke like them, they acted like them, they even had a website like them. The fact that they were at maximum level only made it worse.

But today was a happy day. Today I was going to leave said guild, and after enquiring the problem about the streets of Ascalon, I recieved the directions needed and put them into effect.

"Unable to leave Guild."

Que?

"Unable to leave Guild. You are the leader and you cannot leave."

QUE?

So let me get this right. The noobs themselves realised how crap the guild was before abandoning it themselves? But sure, lets make the fifth person to join the leader!

Now I'm in two minds. I can either try and figure out how to leave this guild in order to go about as a rogue (Or join a better one, or perhaps MAKE one), or I can do the honorable thing and stay while trying to rebuild the fragments of this pile of shite.

It's a tough decision.

In other news, Gary's novel is coming along swimmingly. He's written quite a few pages with a good number of chapters. I'm looking forward to reading it.

Six

"Seven"

Possibly easy day?

Double period of nothingness is awaiting me. Gary, coming in to hide from his history teacher whose class he's missing, he didn't even show up for Physics because he was tired. And now he's sitting just behind me, a pen in hand and an idea in his head.

"I just thought of the best thing ever."

"Does it involve cheese?"

"You know how Ted (Kirstie) doesn't want me to get her anything for Christmas? Well she said last night that she would only accept something of sentimental value. And then it hit me! I'm going to write a novel!"

I paused in reading Ctrl+Alt+Del and turned to face him. "By Christmas?"

"Yeah! Well, it's not going to be a novel really, more of a..."

"Short-story. Yeah, I get it. But what about?"

"All about me and her and what's going to happen and stuff. Like my blog, except in third person."

Interesting.

"And I'd get you to check it over," he continued, "'cause you're the writing person."

Very interesting.

In short, Gary is achieving what I've been striving to do for the past five years. Write a full and proper story. It makes me think back to my younger days, the days of Alexander and Kao in the land of Ocshore. When everything was so much simpler, even in an apocalyptic scale.

"The army was large, but Alexander feared that it would not be large enough to tackle the soldiers of darkness, the forms of pure evil that plagued the land of Oschore, always present as though a shadow of the earth. Alexander stirred uneasily in his bed, sweat on his brow not from the choking warmth, but from fear of what lies over the horizon. Of what waits deep within the enemies lair.
He presently drifted off to sleep, traveling far into the world of dreams where things do not appear as they seem, where the imagination takes shape to form fluid paintings of wonder and, at times, terror. He landed firmly on his feet, totally naked with the exception of the silver chain hanging loosely from his neck. He stood high upon the mountain tops of Lealan, drinking in the wondrous view or sunshine and rolling green hills.
An invisible hand gripped his wrist and gently pulled, leading him down the side of the mountain, through great towns and cities towards a forest of beautiful green with flowers blooming into view. The leading hand loosened his grip and stopped upon a hill that overlooked the entire forest which Alexander took in and all it's glory.
Alexander's head shot up. Clouds ran over the sky, blackening the scenery in front of him. There was a thunderous roaring sound as the trees flattened themselves against the ground and hissed into the heaving mud. A wind blew by the chilled Alexander to his bones. The roar of trees fell silent and there was no sound to be heard. It was as though Alexander stood upon that hill for a long time, waiting for the ages to pass and for some light to pass through the clouds and bring hope, for some sound to bring salvation from such a devastating sight.
There was a sound eventually. A dull, monotonous beat of drums that echoed from the horizon. This sound did not bring the hope that Alexander's heart desperately seeked, but brought forth more dread that writhed in his gut. The soldiers of darkness marched into view, hundreds of thousands stood before him, emanating fear and hatred.
The grip tightened round Alexander's wrist, and he found himself weighted down in his commanding armor. He felt the breathing of a hundred troops behind him, their last breaths before he led them to doom.
He drew his sword and raised it high, light glinting off of it despite the looming darkness. From his throat he uttered a deep and fearless roar before charging into the darkness.
He woke with a start, a sheen of cold sweat covering his forehead. His hand whipped to his knife as he held it to the throat of a shaman, clad in the shamanic gear of old. The shaman had a vice-like grip on Alexander's wrist, causing pain as he squatted down, a smile behind the demon mask.

"That is what awaits you." He whispered and drifted away in a cloud of smoke before Alexander could slice his throat.

Alexander lay on his bed, his hurting wrist being the only evidence of the truth that had happened. Staggering out of bed he pulled on his clothes and went to tell the general. His men's lives were counting on it.
"

That piece has been stewing in my head for the past few years, and I know it isn't all too good, but it's a start.

Gary's determination in writing this novel is stirring my old desire to write. I might just find a new way to fill my free periods now.

Seven

"Eight"

Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Indeed.

Leaning on the counter in Gary's kitchen today, the sound of bacon and egg sizzling in the background and the feel of sunlight on my skin, I listened to people talk about how things are, how things used to be, and how things could be. I feel at home.

Sitting in our little corner in the Crush, chattering away all at once and laughing along with jokes and jests. I could easily drift to sleep in comfort.

Standing in Glasgow Central, talking to random friends, feeling the cold air dash into my coat as Marie wraps her arms around me, I feel warmer than ever.

In all these situations I have the complete certainty of one thing. I am amongst friends.

I stood, eating my roll and egg, talking with Gary and Maddy about the way things are. Talking about certain people and how they react to things.

"Joe," Gary began, "I'm not just saying this because you're here, but you're the only one in the group who seems genuinely happy. And you're happy when other people are happy. It's like, if someone else is happy you have no resentment towards them, you are happy that they're happy, you're not secretly pissed off that they have something you don't."

And Jesus that hit me like a train.

I feel special when I'm with my friends. I feel valued. I feel loved.

And so I end this post here. I've just realised that this could be considored as boasting, and that's the last thing I want to do. And besides, if I keep going on about how good life is it's bound to fuck up on me eventually.

But I know I'll sleep soundly tonight.

Eight

"Nine"

I know that my English appointment awaits, but I just can't be bothered.

To be honest, I can't be bothered doing much. Nothing really to blog about. School is fine, friends are fine, life is fine. I have nothing to report or bitch about or ponder or anything. It's odd.

Hmm.

Maybe my lack of happiness is what fueled this bloc in the first place. If I have no conflict, then I have no story. Creative license is a bitch if you have nothing to be creative about.

But I will strive on to bring you new and exciting stories, each and every time I post.

Apart from this one.

Who am I kidding? I blog because I'm bored, not because I'm sad.

Nine

"Ten"

Sunday, November 27, 2005
Late night blogging will be the death of me.

School tomorrow. I have a funny feeling that something bad is going to happen. Don't ask me what, I just have a feeling.

Well I think it's a feeling. I could just be hungry.

Mum will be coming upstairs soon. That means that I need to type fast or I need to type quietly. I vote for the first option, spelling mistakes included.

I was originally going to hang about on Guild Wars, but I spent to much time doing English homework and it's too late to go on for an hour. I need to go to bed soon...

I'm gonna leave the Lapdancer on overnight. She'll be doing me the pleasure of downloading the entire series of Invader Zim, one of the best cartoons ever created.

I apologise for this post. Random nonsense isn't really my forte any more.

Spent the day in Glasgow yesterday. It was good fun to go out and do nothing, just hang about with friendlies and talk about things. And being spontaneous is also pretty fantastic too.

But enough of that. I suppose I'd better head to the land of nod now, hopefully I'll have a nice dream. I haven't had one in a good long while.

Need to think of some stories for English. Creative folio stuff is coming up.

So long.

Ten

"The keyboard is oozing with cheese at the moment"

Friday, November 25, 2005
Another Friday.

The class is cooler than usual. Mr.Ramsay isn't in today, so there is no drawl of politics in the background, but even if he was it doesn't matter, I've got a load of Jimmy Eat World flowing into my brain. The blinds are open and revealing a world of bare trees, cold skies and a soggy ground. If you looked out the window a few hours earlier then you'd be lucky to see twenty feet ahead.

The morning was cold but clear. A crisp feeling with every breath, a solid sound with every step and the kind of quiet you only get with winter mornings. I stepped off the bus and was greeted by the majestic sight of the orange sun lying across the deep green grass. The fresh feeling stayed with me up until I walked through the school doors where an artificial warmth greeted me with a friendly hug. I signed in and sat down with my friends, a sigh escaping from my lips as I did so.

"What's up with you?" Becca asked, looking at me as if I was someone else.

"What? I 'm fine."

"No you're not..."

"Yeah I am. I'm happy." I said, smiling at her.

"That's it. You're too damn happy!"

I laughed. She was right. I am happy.

The past few months have been the best months I've ever had. Despite a few hiccups here and there, it's been amazing. I have amazing friends, I have an amazing girlfriend, I'm having fun at school, and things are just... Too good. I keep expecting people to turn round and say mean things or for the worst to happen, but it doesn't.

This seems to be a trend. Gary's life is certainly taking a turn for the better. And I can see the happiness on people's faces as we sit in our little corner in the Crush. Things are great.

I love life. I love my friends. I love Marie. I love every single fucking thing around me at this moment.

Yes, that even means you.

The keyboard is oozing with cheese at the moment, so I might as well end the love fest here. I'm going to walk home with Maddy and Gary, have a lot of fun, and tonight I'm going to sit at home on my computer and talk to Marie.

I hope that this warm feeling in my chest never leaves.

"And I have to agree with him."

Thursday, November 24, 2005
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An empty house, a dark room, a laptop, an open word document, and a library full of music.

I sit here, coke by my side, music coming through the speakers, and no other distractions to speak of. My fingers hover over the keys ready to do my bidding and work their magic.

"The seat was hard and cold as he sat by his desk, a bright solitary lamp casting shadows in his deep sullen face."

And I stop. I've barely pulled out of the driveway and I've already hit my first obstacle. A wall blocking my path, hindering me from moving forward. I know what should lie behind it, but I can't see it.

This is a very common occurrence.

I haven't written anything in a good while. The last two stories I had were in the middle of summer, one conjured up out of my morning adventures to the train station and one dreamed up for a friend. Each of them taking me a day or two to finish and perfect. I may have enjoyed them both, but I feel that they weren't my best. One of them not too bad, the other barely filling a page.

God only knows the last time I wrote before those two.

I'm feeling a lot of things about this, annoyance, anger, frustration. But to tell the truth, I'm actually quite upset.

I love writing. It's my one and only passion. I enjoy merging my fingers with a pen or keyboard to produce words that flow on to the paper. My dream is to one day make a career out of it, filling articles and books with writings all by me. And as I sit here on my Lapdancer I feel the fear of that dream slipping away.

Yes, I am typing this blog. A blog that will be soon reaching its three hundredth post in one and a half years. A blog that has served me well in my many adventures and predicaments. But as a wise man once said, "Writing a blog is much easier than writing a book."

And I have to agree with him.

So I click Save As and bury it in my writings folder under "21.11.05". Maybe some day when I'm looking poking around in that folder I'll stumble across it and add a dead man lying on the floor. But until then I leave it to gather dust in the cyber closet of my Lapdancer.

If only writing a book was as easy as writing a blog.

"God forbid that a drawing of a female character should have breasts!"

Wednesday, November 23, 2005
OH MY GOD!

I like anime! SHOCK!

So when I buy an anime magazine, you'd better sit there and abuse me about it. Hell, I'd be disappointed if you don't.

JESUS CHRIST! That anime girl has exceptionally large breasts! Call the police! No, wait! Call the priest! We need to have this picture exorcised and burned! God forbid that a drawing of a female character should have breasts!

Go on! Please treat me like utter shit because I like drawing and watching "cartoons". Oh no! Run away before I infect you with the crapness that is one of my various hobbies! I mean, you have a right to don't you? It's not as if I, the despicable anime lover, ever try to take an interest in some of the random crap that you throw my way do I?

Why don't you crawl out of each others asses for long enough to take a look at the world you close-minded fuckwits.

Oh look! Another joke about being emo! Wow, I love to hear these...

"And most of the users on it are prick-like n00bs anyway."

Tuesday, November 22, 2005
My kingdom for some information on Sally Lockhart!

Seriously. Every time I search for "Northern Lights/Ruby in the Smoke" comparisons I get some crap about religion! And even if I only search for "Ruby in the Smoke" I get a ton of data on Northern Lights and a slight reference to Ruby in the Smoke.

It means I have to come up with my own stuff for my dissertation. Which sucks.

I've been spending most of my time reading more webcomics. I know a few that I can get into where I won't obsess over at their lack of posting. I won't link them all because I can't be bothered to find them all again.

I've also become more active in CaliforniaLan again, and I LOVE using my mod status. Especially when I can boss around little punks who have eight hundred posts while I rest on a solid twenty. It's fun in more ways than one.

Inch by inch I'm rediscovering the internet outside of Guild Wars. The game itself has seemed to come to a screeching halt. It promises a whole new world of areas to explore, with no access to them until you do certain things. These things I do not know how to do, ergo no wide new world for me.

And most of the users on it are prick-like n00bs anyway.

I met Marie's parents on Saturday. They're a happy bunch, nice and friendly to me as we sat around the table eating Chinese. Having nice conversations and great laughs about the pajama lady next door who scratches her intimate parts in public.

I know, I shuddered too.

Today is Tuesday, and I'm going to be meeting up with Marie after school (Seeing as I have a half day every Tuesday), but instead of heading back to my house we might just go back to the centre for a while. Hang about with my friends and eating some Subs. We even have a special discount card that we all bought on Monday, means we can get Subs for half price. That means it's only a pound a week on Subways. Hell yes.

I really can't wait to see her. Time is moving so slowly right now and you can bet your ass that it's going to speed up when she arrives. Time has a funny habit of doing that.

In twenty four days I head on a plane bound for Singapore. Well, actually Amsterdam and then Singapore. I feel kinda nervous to say the least.

And I suddenly realise that I haven't mentioned this before.

From the sixteenth of December to the Ninth of January I will be on the other side of the planet on a small island off the coast of China. I'll be visiting my dad over Christmas and New year and since he lives in Singapore... You get the idea. Chris isn't going because he's been pulled into work for the holidays, so it'll jest be me. I'm looking forward to it and not-so-looking forward to it at the same time. I mean, it'll be great to have a tropical winter with mountains of cheap technology and more manga than I can read. But I'm not sure. I wonder if I'll get on with my dads wife's family, or if I'll forget all their names or if or if or if.

Yeah, my fears are unfounded and not needed. I don't know what things'll be like until I get there won't I?

Hmm.

"And by jove I've missed this."

Sunday, November 20, 2005
For once I signed in to MSN.

I always hover about and see who's on. Perhaps log in and out randomly so my name is updated on their computers. But I never talk.

So today, for some unknown reason, I clicked "Appear Online"

And by jove I've missed this.

"I don't know why, but that means a hell of a lot to me."

Friday, November 18, 2005
Nostalgia is great.

I was about to sit down on the train, my feet finally warming up after the icy cold air, and I was interrupted by a very familiar voice.

"Joe!"

I look down the carriage and scan the seats, and sure enough there he is. His hair is slightly longer, and he does look slightly different, but it's him. Sitting infront of me, a large backpack in the seat beside him and his hand waving in the air, is Michael Graham.

Rooney, Mulrain and I abandon our four seater and join him near the back of the train. We sat down and talked about the usual things first, how things have been, what concerts we've been going to, school, crap like that really. But the conversation soon turned away from the present and drove towards the good old past.

Our words drifted from Maths where me and Michael would recite Sleepy Jean almost daily, to English where the banter about the death of Piggy kept us laughing for weeks, and finally to French where I didn't have the pleasure of experiencing the events with Mrs.McGrotty.

Soon we were sitting and laughing in the warmth and comfort of the moving train. Time seemed to move by as quickly as the scenery did and our conversation was cruelly cut short by the express train. Michael waved goodbye and was gone again. I wonder if we'll cross paths again, perhaps in a way more random than on that train.

Who knows? I might find him somewhere on a beach in Singapore.

There's one thing that I'll remember though. It wasn't too far into the conversation, we had just sat down and were becoming comfortable, when Michael looked up and said to me;

"Your writing had gotten a lot better."

It's been a year and a half, most of which I haven't talked to him, and he still reads my blog. I don't know why, but that means a hell of a lot to me.

Thanks.

So as he stepped off the train, and the carriage was still warm with the nostalgic humor that he left, we all realised something.

Everything seems better when you look back on it.

"Maybe I've lost some naivety too."

Wednesday, November 16, 2005
The heater was a warm comfort in the cold light corridor.

I rested on it, my feet stretching out, my head hanging forward and my hands and ass becoming toasty warm. I looked towards the open door of the guidance base and here Mr.Nelson talk on and on to someone about university. He told me that he was running behind on his interviews, so I should come back in ten minutes. The problem is that I had no where to go. If I went back to my class my teacher would have scolded me for leaving again and if I wandered around the school I might forget all about the time and miss the interview all together. So after a quick breakfast from the vending machines I was set. Now all I could do was bide my time.

I considered what I was taking for university. How things would change over the next year. How I would become older, more mature, more adult.

And then I looked at myself.

My shirt and tie, my black trousers, my smart shoes. If I removed my tie then anyone passing me in the street would have no idea whether I was in school or working. Whether I was an adult or a child.

It doesn't matter, I thought. I'm an adult anyway. At least a young adult.

It took me a moment to count the years I've lived, and a sudden realisation dawned on me. I was still a kid. A child, a young'un. The only thing separating me from the first years was five years of information and about a foot. A small first year girl walks by, hair done up in bunches and a quiet smile on her face. She prances past me and disappears behind a doorway. I smile to myself. Maybe I've lost some naivety too.

I listen to Mr.Nelson some more, his voice going on and on about university and future prospects. I remember the first time I went through this song and dance. I had no idea what I was doing, applying to University and everything, but I did it. I had barely any help, no advice from anyone about money, courses or anything. But I went through with it. I felt older, mature. I even had a talk with the head teacher. He asked me why I was leaving, where I was going and what I wanted to do in life. I never felt more equal with a teacher.

I thought of all my teachers and how I considered myself as at the same level with them. They were easy to talk to, eye to eye and everything. But I'm wrong. I think of Mr.Mulvey who's class I left for this interview. He's a short grey haired old man who has more bad jokes than common sense. He's a good half foot shorter than me, but I know he always has to look down to see me.

In English, we have daily conversations with the teacher. It hasn't been a good day without the banter that we have. But I see that they aren't my equals. They are here to teach, and I am here to learn. They are above, and I am below. It has always been that way. Even in third year when you became "friends" with your teachers. No matter how tall I get, the teachers will always tower over me.

A girl walks out of the class with a confused look on her face and is followed by Mr.Nelson. He looks at me.

"De ja vu, seems like we've done this before. You ready?" He said while motioning into the room.

I smile, nod and follow him in. My hands and ass are nice and toasty from the rest. I think about where I'll be next year, and smile again as I imagine a filled lecture hall with a lecturer going on about Shakespeare. I'll probably be below him too. I look up into Mr.Nelsons eyes and wonder when I will be equal.

Ah well, I guess I'll take it one step at a time. Growing up is a tricky business if you don't think ahead.

"They know who they are."

Tuesday, November 15, 2005
The polls are in: Joe's blog is too darned crptyic.

Solution: Simplify things?


Lets put it this way. I feel like I'm losing a friend. Slowly and gradually yes, but sill losing them nontheless.

Before you ask, no. I am not saying who it is. They know who they are.

I had Blink-182's Dammit stuck in my head at the time. Sing that tune along with the first half of my post, and bingo! it makes sense.

Yeah. Odd mood again.

Five minutes to go. Time is always ticking.

Watch me sit.

"Holden Caufieldisms and all."

Monday, November 14, 2005
And so it's happened once again, I feel I've lost a friend.

Someone who can't understand, can't see the master plan.

And now it seems you're gone, we've not been here too long.

Now face these things on your own.

Well, I guess this is growing up.

Nanananana nanananana nananananaaaaa.

Paranoid fantasies or cynical truths? The clock is ticking and I will be glad to sit by and watch it run round the track. It's a well known fact that people change over time, it's natural. It's people who stay the same kill me. Holden Caufieldisms and all.

"The day was great."

Eight minutes to go and no time to post.

Finished my Dissertation piece. Twenty minutes at the computer solved that, but I wouldn't be surprised if the teacher takes it home because she ran out of toilet paper.

I didn't talk about Sally, I talked about her guardian and the bad guy of the book and how they might be similar but their residences aren't. You see, Sally doesn't get out too much so I'm wondering why the fuck did I decide to put "Setting" in as one of my paragraphs.

Now that I think on it I'm wondering why the fuck I chose those two books.

Christmas is coming at a run and I have no idea what to get folks. I have little ghosts of thoughts, but not wholly formed ideas. Secret Santas will be fun. I just feel sorry for the poor sod who got me.

I'm in an odd mood.

Saturday was a lot of fun. Despite the few arguments that led to non-talky and the freezing coldness of Glasgow, it was great. Hanging about with friends was great. Having a one on one conversation was great. Having her head rest on my lap for the train ride was great. Having lots of fun conversations was great. Being envied by the girls in front of us was great.

The day was great.

And last night I felt happier than I had been in a long long time. Such little words can bring happiness.

Two minutes to go. The clock is ticking against me. Soon English will start and the trauma will begin. Prep the A&E for me.

Yeah, I'm in an odd mood.

One minute.

Disregard post.

"Damn you Sally and your lack of setting changes."

Sunday, November 13, 2005
Two hundred words to go and I run straight into a brick wall.

Just over eight hundred words isn't bad I suppose. I mean, include the fact that I have not read either book for about two or three years and I think that eight hundred is quite a lot.

Unfortunatly it's not enough.

So with any luck, and the crossing of many fingers, I will have a second wind tomorrow morning that will fill in the two hundred gap. I just need to find more things to write about that god damned Sally Lockhart.

Damn you Sally and your lack of setting changes.

"So I guess I was peer-pressured into religion."

Friday, November 11, 2005
The dull yet solid echo of footsteps fill the church, only slightly dulled by the explosion of fireworks outside.

I follow Mary-Franses, Marie's sister, as she enters the main hall where people sat scattered in pews and murmuring to partners. There are a select few who are alone, gazing solemnly up at the huge cross that rests at the head of the church. Mary-Franses dips her hand in the Holy Water and crosses herself before heading towards the pews. I follow her and watch as she makes a quick kneel before sidling into her seat. I look up to the figure nailed to the cross and give a slight nod.

I may be an atheist but I respect an object of belief when I see it.

We sit down quite close to the isle and Mary-Franses kneels and silently prays. Their family isn't deeply religious, but they've had traditions grounded into them since they were young. I sit and gaze around the room. A few people are doing the same as Mary-Franses, others are doing mimicking me, and a select few are chatting with their neighbor. They tell each other about how their grandson just did this and how good ol' Stuart just did that. I feel relaxed.

Marie comes from the toilet and sits beside me. She looks at me and smiles but before I can say anything the sermon starts. The whole church stands and starts the opening psalm, a slow heavy hymn that filled the church with solemn respect. I flipped open the hymn book at the right page and handed it to Marie, but she placed it closed on the pew in front of her. I forgot that she does this every week.

The hymn ends and the congression sits itself down to listen to the hour long sermon of God's teachings. It's at this point that I let my mind wander around the room, my head is feeling warm and heavy with a content sleepyness in my eyes. Perfect conditions for some deep thinking.

I started wondering about my beliefs and values, past and present. I've had many conversations with Jeff on the bus about the existence of God or some kind of higher power in the universe. It usually ends up in a full scale argument where both of us are refusing to see each others point. So I sat in the hard wooden pew and looked up at the huge cross on the opposite wall, pondering the existence of a huge influence in my life.

When I was growing up, I had no religion. Being raised in a Catholic school wasn't too easy for that. I had Jesus pressed against me for seven years as my friends went through their first Communion, First Confession and confirmation. All the while I was left out, pushed to the side-lines while every one else enjoyed their special moments of their special God-filled lives. To be perfectly honest, I felt rejected.

So I guess I was peer-pressured into religion.

So I began to follow the guide lines of the Catholic religion and started praying. Not all the "Our Father who art in Heaven" crap, I just talked to God really. I never went to church, so I'd lie in my bed, look up at my ceiling and have a silent conversation with Him. It wasn't all too bad, but material ran short seeing as He was supposed to know everything and all. I didn't bother to ask Him for things, 'cause it's fucking pointless I'll have you know.

People always used to go on about "What kind of God can let this happen?" and "If there was a God he'd stop things like this". Bullshit. It's not that God's to lazy to get His almighty ass off the clouds to help everyone, it's just that He can't. He gave humans free will and put them on a planet that was hospitable for them. He can't interfere no matter how much He wants to.

My thoughts were interrupted by another hymn. We all stood up and people began to sing again, this time to a slightly more lively and upbeat tune. I stood there, unmoving and silent as ever, when Marie slipped her hand into mine and squeezed it hard. I looked down to see her smiling face looking up at me, so I returned the smile and she looked forward and continued on singing. The hymn ended and we sat down again, Marie still holding my hand on her lap.

I can remember exactly when I stopped believing in God. It was in RE not too long ago and we were going over theories of how you could prove God existed. And they were all wrong. There was arguments saying that "The world is just the right type for us to inhabit, so God must've made it." No, we evolved and changed ourselves for this world, not the other way round.

"Yeah but, you have to trace everything back to it's original source so something must've made the first thing and God made it." No, you're assuming that there isn't a set number of things in the universe that are recycled during multiple Big Bangs, and if you think of things that way, who created God I ask?

You've got your phenomenon on one hand. Concrete and knowable. On the other hand you've got the incomprehensible. You call it God, but to me, God or no, it remains just that, the unknowable.

My thoughts were once again interrupted by the Communion service. My entire row shuffled past me on their way to the alter and sat there and smiled. Marie and Mary-Franses came back and spent a short time kneeling in prayer before coming back up to hold my hand. I looked at her and whispered my thoughts. She whispered them back and I smiled.

The sermon went quicker after that.

I walked out into the explosive night with a content feeling in my chest. Marie snuggled into my chest to avoid the cold, and we walked away.

My faith surely affirmed.

"I know, I'm sad."

Monday, November 07, 2005
I have a large update to post, and I'll do it very soon.

But not right now. Right now Ascalon needs me, and who am I to refuse a request?

...

I know, I'm sad.

"I am fallable."

Sunday, November 06, 2005
It's times like these that I'm glad that I'm human. And if being human means I can be wrong about things, then I can proudly stand up and announce to the world that I am fallable.

"Like I swallowed a hamster."

Friday, November 04, 2005
I really shouldn't be blogging right now.

Long day, longer night and, lo and behold, emo music spewing from my speakers. I should really close my Lapdancer right now and sit in the dark to wallow in my own self pity. But I feel the sudden and inexplicable urge to write.

Five minutes ago and my fingers would feed you my sorrow.

Five minutes before that they would have brought you my pain.

Five minutes before that they would have carried fury.

Five minutes before that and my fingers would have been coursing with joy.

What will come in five minutes time?

Who knows?

Now, lets drop this cryptic bullshit and move on to the real stuff. I was on the phone to Marie, talking about what we should do tomorrow. I put on (What I think is) a cute and funny voice to make her happy, for she seemed to be in a bad mood. Lets say that I didn't get an ideal response in return. Which caused me to become pretty pissed off and hang up.

And now I feel sick

Now, let us go back even further to this morning.

Now, I'm probably going to get some sort of shit for this, but I really don't care right now. It was during first period, only me Cara and Rooney in the Crush sitting and talking. I cannot remember what I said or how I said it, but Cara came in with;

"You're so annoying by the way."

Well doesn't that just fill me up with a special kind of warm fluffiness. Like I swallowed a hamster.

Like a knife in the fucking stomach

I smiled, shook it off and continued in my apparently annoying ways. I do believe I pissed her off for the rest of the day, for she kept giving me looks at lunch and at break. But I must to blame, 'cause I'm just annoying right?

That's probably an unfair statement, but I don't care right now.

So I continue on through out the day, my self-esteem slightly dented but a smile on my face all the same. I look at my friends during lunch and I sit in silent wonder. Thinking my way through situations.

I see a lot more than I let on

They laugh, they have fun, they throw bottles at people. It's a regular day at Costa del school. Or is it? Something seems a bit different. I just can't put my finger on it.

Everything's different

I go home and put my feet up. For a while everything's good as I save Ascalon from the evil Charr beasts from the North. I laugh with a rabble of people at a good joke, I am congratulated by total strangers as I level up and I will race to the rescue someone I will never know before the final blow is struck. I am happy.

I leave that world to make a phone call that would ruin my night.

Go on, start shouting at me for being sad enough to like a computer game over life. Go on, judge me on my patheticness.

Fuck this. Too many thoughts in my head to write down. I'll sort through them one by one and put them into categories, like different types of cards.

Play two, pick up two

Ignore this god damned post. I never should have started this fucking thing in the first place.

"Rest in peace dear cd player."

Not too long today folks.

As usual, I bring you a friday post. But there is a change of ritual this time round. Mr.Ramsay and his never ending drawl of Scottish politics are no longer with us, he has been replaced by a rabble of chattering first years.

Oh the joy.

Add to that to my cd player is fucking about with me and we have the recipe for a perfectly sour mood. Now to add the pinch of salt...

Yes... It was my fault that the cd player broke. Whilst in the queue to buy lunch I carelessly threw my bag the length of half the lunch hall to Jeff where she would store it under the table. Needless to say that Jeff missed and my bag crashed to the ground and slid to a halt under a chair. It was then that I remembered about the cd player. I opened it when I came into the library to find the lid bent out of shape and the disk strewn out in my bag. I re-shape the lid, replace the cd and play. It works fine for approximately twenty seconds before it buzzes alarmingly and dies. I tried many methods of ressusitation, but it didn't make it.

Rest in peace dear cd player.

This lengthy process caused me to waste over half of my free period. Hence the rushing of this post right now.

I'll trade it in again tomorrow, hopefully they won't see that I've already traded it in once. Well they shouldn't give me a cd player that fucks up all the time!

And I might be having my hair cut tomorrow. Not cut cut, just trimmed and thinned to make it more manageable. It's become a real bitch to do in the mornings.

Lots of things have been happening recently that's made me think about other things and about myself. Things are changing again, and they may be gradual, but they're still changing. Do I want these things? My RE teacher said that it's the greatest trial in someones life to look inside yourself and see who you are.

Well set up the judge and the jury, 'cause I'm going in.

"And you're too tall!"

Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Call me Hamlet.

I'm procrastinating again. English homework is due for last period and I'm spending my time on the interweb checking my haunts and updating this place.

I have a pretty cool blog that I've typed up offline, but it's at home on my Lapdancer.

My mum is starting to think that I'm an internet addict considering the amount of time I spend on it. True, I do spend copious amounts of time in the virtual world, but that doesn't mean that I'm an addict. It just means that I... like it.

If she wants to see if I'm an addict for anything she should take away my coke supply for a week.

So I blame the lack of updates on my female parental unit. Not on the fact that every chance I have on the interweb is spent playing some more of Guild Wars. I'm not that sad.

Half an hour to go before lunch. Then I'll have a real excuse not to do my homework. Food is priority over all else. Even Guild Wars.

I sneak another sip from my bottle or Ribena and let the juice slosh around in my mouth. I swallow, leaving a residual stinging on the inside of my lips. I gently tongue the small lump on my top lip and a much larger one on my bottom one. The result of a fist smashing into your face.

The mosh pit was one of the best parts of the concert. I jumped in on a whim, the music wasn't all too good and I needed some entertainment. Bodies heaved into each other and fists began to fly everywhere. I landed two or three blows before being pushed out, but I jumped back in with increased rigor. I hammered at a bare back before it turned around to reveal Gary in his Goth costume for Hallow'een. I laughed my apology and continued on, the music had become faster and more people joined in. A fist connected with my stomach, and I returned it with a punch to the chest. The topless man glared at me and started a flurry of punches. I hammered back with equal force before we pushed ourselves apart. We laughed. We shook hands. And we returned to the fray. Another song went by, and I turned round to make a random swing at an unknown stranger, but I caught a glimpse of a fist before my face entered a whole world of pain. I stumbled out of the pit and steadied myself, spitting into my hand to confirm what I already knew.

Blood.

I headed back to Jeff and Laura, wiping my mouth on my arm as I went. The bleeding slowed by the time I reached them and soon closed a while later. The band left and Randy came on. Me, Rooney and Alan made our way to the front to get to a good spot for Flogging Molly but we ended up almost at the barrier and having fun with Randy. They finsiehd their set and after a short while a girl tapped me on the shoulder.

"You're too tall!"

"I'm sorry, but it's not my fault."

"Can I get in front of you?"

"No."

"Please!"

"We've been waiting here for ages."

"But I'm a real Flogging Molly fan!" She exclaims, pointing to her newly bought Flogging Molly t-shirt.

"And?"

"And you're too tall!"

She eventually whined enough so I shuffled over and let her in. We started talking, but she was a bit ditsy and the band came on soon to save me from talking to her. They were pretty amazing, making the crowd go mad with people surging to the front. After about six or seven songs I told Rooney that I was heading out since I was being squashed so much. I turned round and pushed myself up on the two guys behind me. The instinctively grabbed my legs and crowd surfed me out. Since I was near the front I didn't stay up too long, but it was fun none the less.

They ended, and I got a photo with one of one of the members with Maddy and Jeff before Millencolin came on. I wasn't too interested in this band so I joined into another mosh pit before meeting up with Gary and Rooney again. We decided all to crowd-surf from the middle so we could stay up longer. And we did. And it was amazing.

The wound down after that. I went home and talked to Marie on the phone for a while. My ears were ringing really badly though, and I couldn't hear much of what she was saying so we parted ways and I laid on my bed. My muscles ached with the promise of pain the next morning. No bruises though, that's good. Redsiliency is a good thing, it means that if I have a bruise then it really must have hurt.

The bell is about to ring. So I bid thee good bye.