Anniversary

About this time last year, at work polishing glasses, I remember being told that the London tube 'crashes' weren't due to the power surge that had initially been reported, but were due to a number of bombs being planted upon the London transport system.

Obviously, I have no right to talk about the horror of it all, or the fear of it. The distress of that day was as alien to me as if it had occurred somewhere halfway across the world. But an attack on your own country makes you think again. It certainly did with me. Mostly, the thing I remember was the mobile phone networks being completely blocked. Wanted to get in contact with Annie, just to make sure she hadn't been anywhere near central on that day. When, eventually, I managed to get through, hearing that she was in Twickenham and hadn't had anything to do with it was more of a relief than anyone had right to feel on a day like that.

Since being at university, I've used the tubes quite a number of times. Never once has it crossed my mind to be scared, suspicious, concerned or mindful. The human psyche seems to just adjust itself to normality. The normality we, as a country, know now is a different one to the normality we knew 366 days ago. But the only true victory that can be drawn from such a thing is in continuing with life.

July 7th 2005 doesn't seem long ago at all. How far will things have come by July 7th 2007?

later,
Chris...

Never Fade Away

I suppose it's been quite a while, hasn't it? But I needed some time away - not really from blogging as such, but from discussing me. Stuff happened. Stuff that I really wasn't overly comfortable talking about to the closest of friends in the real world. Certainly not stuff that I would've been happy committing to the tangled web of blogging. I'd've written about other stuff except, for the most part, these things were the only things that were occupying my thoughts enough for me to write about. So I decided that, on balance, it was better that I just took a break.

Now, however, things are probably looking a bit better. Certainly I have definite plans of where I'm going, at least in the short term. Back to work, in order to help with some training and other such things, on Monday. Latitude festival for the Friday. Egham on August 1. Edinburgh for a couple of days in the middle of that week. It might not be much of a series of goals or such things, but it's a way to begin. And, altogether, when those things are done, it won't be long at all until the whole business of university and such things begins again. Courses, set texts, exams, assignments, seminars, lectures, the union, the bars - things that, less than a full year ago, seemed so new, exciting and alien have taken on the aspect of comfortably familiar routines. Sometimes you need something new to shake you from a reverie. Just occassionally, you need something indefatigably familar and draped in known routines. Even if these things don't, themselves, prove to be the key to a restoration of some formality, the process of getting to them may form part of the catharsis I require.

Maybe, just maybe, blogging forms a part of that too.

later,
Chris...

Sabbatical

No blogging for a while now. Some drama, which I won't write about at least until I've got it all sorted in my head, and possibly not even then.

Until next time,
Chris...

One Hot Minute

A great idea, poached from a friend of a friend.

One year. Each day, one striking moment. Blog about it, and nothing else.

The Moment

later,
Chris...

Are you ready for the shit to hit...

Fuck...

The past few days have been...
hard.
Yeah, hard.

Boredom's one of those words we bandy around far too easily. Nothing to do for half an hour? You think you're bored? Fuck you.

Normally I hate that shit where someone breaks down and wants to know what they've done, why things are so hard, why things won't go well for them. It's always so sanctimonious. I tend to hit the 'shut up, you stupid, whinging twat' stage before. But now, I'm feeling like I'm on the run up to just that stage. I feel so fucking messed up right now.

My days are spent in this godawful routine of sleeping, dreaming more than I want, waking, walking, reading and sleeping again. I haven't spoken to someone that isn't in my family - voice to voice - for about a week. It's been over a month since I've seen anyone that isn't related. My world has constricted. Apart from the half hour or so I can manage to walk for before becoming exhausted, I live in four rooms. I spend hours alone, and it's become oh-so-ordinary not to hear from anyone. I don't feel so much like a hermit as I do a complete no-hoper. And, because this tiredness won't fade, won't disappear, I don't see any end to it.

I know that, in theory, I'm living a charmed existence right now. No worries, no outlays, food and drink whenever I want it, the time and leisure to do exactly as I please, as far as my body allows. And yet, it feels like I'm on a custodial sentence. I feel imprisoned and excluded. I feel like I'm missing out on so much. I feel like the world's become something that happens to other people, and I'm the casual observer. It's difficult to feel like you belong under those circumstances.

I know I shouldn't complain. Don't want to sound like a sanctimonious fucker, and I definitely don't want to allow myself to create a well of pity for myself to wallow in. Self pity, in spite of everything I write and record, is not my instinct. Thinking of myself tends to be a last resort, the thing I revert to only when I can't find someone else to think of.

In truth, I'm not really used to

This.

And this is difficult.

later,
Chris...

Distracting Nonsense

Your Autobiography

Part 1: The Birth of You

Were you a planned baby?
Erm...to a degree, I think. Never actually asked - something about the idea of conversing upon my origins repulses me.

Were you the first?
The original(and best...?)

Who was present at your birth?
Again, I have no idea. Nor any particular desire to do so.

Were your parents married when you were born?
Yep; I'm no bastard!

What is your date of birth?
01/01/86. Which some people seem to think is more interesting than it really is.


Part 2: The Family

How would you describe your family?
Old fashioned meets contemporary. Almost a contradiction, but in the best possible sense.

Are your parents married? Divorced? Seperated?
Still very much married.

Siblings or an only child?
A pair of younger sisters who, despite my wanting to murder them half of the time, are essentially quite decent.

If you have siblings are you oldest, middle, or youngest?
Being the first born, I'm also the eldest. Quelle surprise.

What are your siblings names and ages?
Rachel & Becky. And they may, or may not be 18 and 15. I tend to lose track.

Which parent do you get along with best?
Ah, now they're both cool by me.

What do you fight about?
Anything that isn't worth the hassle.

Do you have step parents?
Nope. Some of these questions are very similar; had you noticed?

Part 3: The Friends

Do you have more than one best friend?
Yeah, absolutely.

What do you like to do when you are together?
Depends on which of them it is. Drink, get high, walk, chill, chat, bitch, music, cinema...any combination of the above.

Do you share the same interests?
I don't think there's anyone who shares my interests properly!

Which friend can you tell anything to?
One or two of them...nobody I'm willing to disclose though; that's opening myself to vulnerabilities!

Part 4: Your Personality

How high/low is your self esteem?
Chronically low. Even realistically so, perhaps.

Do you get depressed about things easily?
Yeah, far too easily as it happens.

Are you happy?
Currently, lonely but surprisingly happy.

Do you live life to the fullest?
At times, I have done.



Part 5: Appearance

Are you comfortable with the way you look?
Some days yes, some days no.

Do you have any piercings besides your ears?
None at all. Piercings just don't appeal.

Describe your hair.
My hair and I are in a constant and never ending battle. Today, it's winning.

Part 6: The Past

Were you a strange child?
I'd like to think I still am.

What did you used to love that you no longer do?
Christ, erm...shutting myself off and just letting my imagination run things for me.

Do you have the same friends?
Not from when I was really young. Mostly from about 14 onwards they've remained stable.


Part 7: The Future

What is your ambition?
To just be.

Are you scared of growing old?
Yeah. More particularly recently.

Do you want to get married?
Very much so, actually. Strange for someone with committment difficulties!

Part 8: The Outdoors

Do you prefer indoors or outdoors?
Each in their own particular time.

What is your favorite season?
Winter. Particularly deep winter.

Weather?
Thunder storms and thick fog.

Do you like walking in the rain?
Definitely. It's liberating.

Part 9: Food

Are you a vegetarian?
No, no, no! I like my red meat far too much.

What food makes you want to gag?
Olives. And I wish they didn't.

What is your favorite dessert?
Perhaps cheese boards with a glass of port. Or creme brulee. Mmmm.

What is your favorite restaurant?
From my horribly biased point of view, I do like The Crown in Southwold. We're fucking good!

Are you a fussy eater?
I fear so. Which is why I prefer to cook for myself!

Part 10: Relationships and Love

Are you single or taken?
Predictably enough, very much single.

If taken who is the lucky guy/gal?
If taken, I'm not sure they'd be so much 'the lucky gal'.

Do you think love is the best feeling in the world?
Fuck knows...how can there be one 'best feeling in the world'? And how could I know, when I'll never, ever understand every feeling imaginable. What a stupid question.

Do you believe in love at first sight?
Oh yes. Very much so. The concession to the romantic in me, I fear.

later,
Chris...

So I Reached Out To Kanye...

...and brought you all my dream.
Nah, don't worry...I haven't gone all hip-hop on yo' ass.

Just dreams and stuff. "Not the clutching at straws, this is where I wanna be (gotta be), here's what I'd do if..." sort of dream. The real thing, the images and places and ideas that open up to you in the middle of the night. Ethereal and unreal, and oh-so-genuine. The half thoughts that filter down from your subconscious to become, for mere seconds, your entire reality. And recently, my dreams have been plagued with old places. Or, perhaps, olde places. Villages and towns that just don't belong. And characters that don't either. In fact, coming to think of it, it's the characters involved that brought me to thinking about these dreams.

Who are those people, those fully-formed and utterly real characters that populate my sleep? And the places that seem so complete, so flawless and so essentially rotten. Consciously, I don't think it's within my capabilities to create such places, such people. At least not without an amazing amount of effort, and even then, how could it be so real? How could I describe something like the feelings of these places to myself? And how could I take the role of participant or helpless observer so completely? But take away the consciousness and, suddenly, mental creations are not only possible - they're ordinary, run of the mill, and completely effortless.

This in mind, is it any wonder that the best stuff I've ever imagined, ever thought I could write, ever known I could create have come just before falling into sleep? And is it any wonder that, the second I wake up, or even become conscious of the thoughts, they disappear back into the ether? If only I could consciously pillage all those images I have when logical thought is beyond me, I'm sure I could be more myself.

Such is the paradox; the only time I'm truly myself is when I have no control over it.

What does that say?

later,
Chris...