Post XX

The Twentieth.

 20 posts old. You know, I’m a different man now. Back then, things were easy. I was young. I was reckless. I thought the world was conquered. I didn’t think it was an oyster. I was above all that. How wrong I was. It’s been an eventful 20 posts. I use the word ‘eventful’ quite wrongly. I won’t turn this into a nostalgia trip. I’m just a little bit smug. I thought I’d give up the ghost, hang up my hat, never step foot into this business again, but every single time I put my foot out of the exit door something calls me back. I think it’s dodgy noir dialogue that does it. I’m proud I stuck with it. I’ve never stuck with anything before. I give up too easily. I’m not criticizing. There’s no shame in being a coward. It worked for that lion in that book I’ve never read. I presume.

I was very stressed last week. I don’t like being stressed. But I got the work done and everything was rosy. Well, not entirely rosy. It’s really hard looking after this house. It’s a bit lonely, as well. I always said I could manage on my own, but I don’t think I can. I think we all need a friend. If one is lucky to have such a thing.

History is repeating itself. I suppose it has to. I mean, how many different outcomes can history produce before it runs out of ideas? It would be a crazy world if something different happened every time you did something. Imagine pressing the same old button on the remote control. You could end up in Siberia. Press it again. Go back and see those you loved and lost. That would be a nice world. It’s the world kids create. In their heads, in those big, beautiful brains a whole world of imagination is created. It’s just a shame they cannot really communicate those ideas until their adults – when the imagination is gone. You have to rely on outside sources rather than the intricate workings of the mind. I know that as an author. It’s also hard to concentrate. ‘He opened the door and inside was’ – oh look, a butterfly. Aww. Really cute, aren’t they? Hello, sweetie – it’s at this point the psychiatrists are called.

As a kid, we can rid those imaginings from our minds and free up some space for a new adventure. As an adult, we realize the only way we are going to free up any space is to get rid of the naughty images on the hard drive. We lose what we love. It’s not all doom and gloom. Of course not. I mean, there are many wonderful things to adulthood. The ability to drink, to laugh at satire, to understand the world, to write complex literature and poetry, to make music and make food, to live a life on this, the richest of worlds. And of course, the greatest achievement – love, even if it’s unrequited, is the greatest food for the heart. But then history repeats itself. It doesn’t change constantly as it does when one is a child. Yes, repeating history can be wonderful. ‘Let’s go to the beach like when we were young to capture our youth’. Beautiful. But history repeating isn’t always used in that way. In fact, I’ve never heard it used that way.

I’ve never had a friend. I’m not ashamed of that. In recent years, I’ve strived to avoid friendships. I don’t want a friend. I just want stability. A job and a home and a life to live. I’ve met some wonderful people over the last decade. Some of the greatest people who have ever entered my life. It was a collision. It was circumstance. We met because we shared a common goal. To pass a course and get a qualification. They were companions and peers, but not friends. I want friends. Of course I do. But I don’t strive to make them because I have no stability. I was in my last college for two years and I left not knowing any of my peers but loving every single one of them. Even the bitch. I had to distance myself and now history is repeating itself. I say goodbye to the people on my current course soon. They want to know me, want my number and my ‘page’ on whatever the hell Facebook is. They want to go out for a drink. I said no, like I always do, not because I want to be lonely but because I’m sick of losing people. I lost those peers in my last college and I’ll soon lose these people. I knew that from the start so I strived to avoid those emotions. If that makes me crazy, then I don’t care.

I’ve had a great week. The people I’ve met are hilarious, I’ve talked and laughed uproariously and many times just because I’ve had so much fun. I haven’t felt this happy in a long while. And I’m as proud of what I’ve achieved personally over the past four weeks doing this course as I am of this terrible, terrible blog.I like to end on a message. I haven’t got one. 20 posts and a great week. I could only have dreamt of that not so long ago. Maybe things are starting to turn around. Maybe I’ve just jinxed it. Whatever the reality, I’m happy.

‘Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. It means that you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections’. Lovely.

Peace Out :|:

(If you want to read more, even though this is a weekly blog, there are countless other entries on here you could go through. Next week I’ll be taking down Post 1 and will continue to do this every 10 entries [so Post 2 will come down on Post 32]. Be sure to tell people if you enjoyed this and please ‘Digg’ the best posts. Thanks)


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