This is a Sick Joke (Say It Ain’t So)

There are some things you really don’t want to learn by text message.
Each delay between messages is too long, not to mention the trend these days of sending fragments of your message a piece at a time (yeah, sure, it’s totally just building suspense…). I don’t normally share this sort of personal thing, but here’s the roller coaster ride I just got strapped into without warning.
I’m still reeling….
——–
HER:
I remember my dad telling me distance only makes the heart grow stronger… or something along those lines.
 ME:
Absence makes the heart grow fonder? 
HER:
Yes, that. 😊
 ME:
Haha it’s a good saying, but it depends on how strong you feel and how mature you are – absence can also make the heart sluttier 😂 but I don’t think that one applies to you.
HER: 
I did do a bad thing though…
 
The night after you left.
 
I was afraid to tell you
 
I still feel dirty.
ME:
Don’t be – just be honest. 
HER:
I was gonna wait until you got back but…
ME:
Hey – relax and just say what you need to say.
HER:
I don’t want to ruin us.
ME: 
If you keep a secret that eats you up like this it will ruin us. All I ever asked of you is to be honest with me.
So be brave.
HER:
Okay. 
Hear me out please…
 ME:
Go on – I won’t interupt.
HER:
OK well…
 
After you left
 
I just had this urge
 
I told myself I’d wait for you
 
But I couldn’t do it
 
So
 
Late that night
 
I snuck out
 
And well
 
I went to Five Guys.
 
I brought it back to my place and watched It’s Always Sunny.
 
I’m sorry.
ME:
I just need a minute.
 
This is a lot to take in.
HER:
I still feel so dirty.
 
But it wasn’t the same without you.
 
I’ll never do it again I swear.
ME:
I thought what we had was special? How could you?
HER:
I have needs!!
ME:
I think we should eat different food for awhile – then we can talk about ‘us’.
HER:
I guess. If you think it’s for the best…
ME:
I do – I just need some time. I need to figure out if I can forgive you.
HER:
Jokes aside, I really did feel dirty.
ME:
Jokes aside, you’re the worst!
——
Credit where it’s due – She had me going for a while there. What kind of monster does that in the middle of the night? I’m really hungry now….
ijustlovehappyendings

Listening To: Candy Coated Fury – Reel Big Fish

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Comedy is Tragedy Plus Time

A fitting topic for discussion, given my literature studies currently focus on modern and classical tragedy – and as some of you may know, this is my favourite mantra. So much more eloquent than the usual ‘shit happens’, right? It certainly inspired my choice of essay question (Do comedy and humour have any part in tragedy?), but as much as I want to I must resist the urge to use this as a reference. This is in part due to the difficulty in tracking who said it first (the earliest form of this expression allegedly appeared in Cosmopolitan magazine back in 1957) but primarily as it lacks some validity when applied to theatre. I first heard it when playing Portal 2, but whatever….

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I suppose any ‘validity’ to the phrase depends greatly on your sense of humour and perspective. I mean, if it was me accidentally standing in a bear trap then finding out in hospital that I would lose my leg due to a reaction to the metal itself I wouldn’t find it funny. Well, as funny. Given time, I will laugh off almost anything. This is a poor example of tragic irony, but easy enough to understand (stage cue: everybody laugh).

Moving away from literature and theatre, as I’m sure no one wants to read about my studies (though if you do let me know in feedback, nerds and bibliophiles), it’s an interesting test of your humour to seek mirth from your own failings and suffering. Sometimes I laugh, but it’s usually only 1 of 3 parts laughing. There’s a lot of irony in my own experience – there’s no danger of a deficiency there (cue: pity laugh). Most recently, I had just gotten used to the idea that I wasn’t going to meet anyone on a similar wavelength at uni and would have to seek companionship only from my crazy friends back home, life throws a curve-ball in the form of a companion that fits the bill. The humour of the situation is that in discussing our messy histories what were once tears came out as laughter – well, mostly anyway.

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I know and accept I have a somewhat twisted sense of humour, but I am learning that some elements of a darker nature are still funny. This is common, right? I realise now that I haven’t really cared what ‘normal’ people think and feel, so maybe the answer is redundant. I know now that wherever I go, there will be more friends to be made with emotional instabilities, morbid humour and crazy dreams – it has been pointed out to be, more times than I care to admit, that these do tend to be the kind of people I attract. As far as I’m concerned, this just means I have a target audience out there for my ramblings. So in as far as what Gym-Nut Gary and Slut-Face Sally have to say, I don’t think I’ll miss out on any constructive criticism or ‘deep insight’.

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P.S. If I have offended any gym-nuts, slut-faces, Garys or Sallys – I appologise for the use of stereotypes and easy alliterations. Not because I care about your insecurities, but because it’s polite.

 

Listening To: The Ultimate Collection – Billy Joel

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A Girl Called Madness

I slept really badly last night. The kind of sleep in that, when thinking about it, you’re not sure about the parts of your ‘dream’ you were awake for, the parts you weren’t, and those parts when you dream in your dreams (elevator just hit B1) and you wake up feeling exhausted.

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Anyway, At some point I got up and wrote the following down. I remember some of it really clearly, but I know there was more to this. It has given me an idea I might run with for the short story assignment I have due in for December – given I haven’t got anything else idea wise for it, it’s on the short list in any case. If it doesn’t make the cut, then I guess it will either end up here somewhere or get stored away in a mental toolbox.

 

Wake up after hearing banging. Convince self it wasn’t the sound of someone knocking and I was dreaming.

Thinking again, and have the vision of a girl banging her fists on my first floor window. She’s pretty, but there’s something wrong with her. It’s in her eyes. I just know this.

Half in sleep, the girl appears in the room and asked if I had heard about a monster in the night.

I see its silhouette and I understand it’s in my room with me – but I don’t care. I roll over.

I’m dreaming again – I think….

I’m in a classroom. I see the girl, but no one else does. She teaches me that I can unplug things to make them run. ‘Take away the power and things will work.’ 

I see all the plugs have been pulled loose, but all the computers are still on with glaring white screens. 

People don’t get why I’m laughing.

I don’t know why I’m laughing.

 

I forgot that I wrote this until I came back to my room about an hour ago and saw I had a Word document open. I wish I was subconsciously this proactive in recording lunacy and fantasy all the time. Maybe I should go back to sleep deprivation to fuel a fresh bout of crazy prose?

Speaking of, I had been thinking about what really constitutes madness over the last week or so. Ironically, I want to understand something that doesn’t follow rules or adhere to reason. So far, I can only say that it does seem to be a commonly a solitary path. I wonder if I will let go and walk it someday, or if I will find a reason to reaffirm my grip on reality. I’m not even sure why I’m so interested in tapping into a reservoir of insanity, or if it’s a good idea. I don’t think there’s much choice in it though, is there? Self-awareness is so overrated…. (B2 – Are we in too deep?)

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I leave you with this – a quote that set the train of thought in motion (and later perhaps provoked this strange scrawl in the night):

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence– whether much that is glorious– whether all that is profound– does not spring from disease of thought– from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.” – Edgar A. Poe

 

Listening To: The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya OST

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A Touch of Culture

Oh, hey! It’s been awhile… again. It’s okay! Don’t feel bad. I cheat on all of my literary commitments, but don’t worry, you’re my favourite mistress….

Fine. You caught me. I do say that to all the writing outlets. Mea culpa.

The freshers’ fortnight (yeah, not just a week anymore folks) has ended and the nototequilatime has come to start being more proactive in time management and some degree of work (and work for the degree, yuk yuk yuk). Admittedly the fresher events did end about two weeks ago, but I felt short-changed by the overall play-out and that I hadn’t drained my finances enough so I extended the party, without reprieve, for a further fortnight. Having now been satisfied, four weeks since returning to London, I have began to analyse the workload and plan out this semester’s work. If I stick to it and do this right, then I should be behind a computer or a book for the majority of my waking hours until Christmas.

It’s not going to happen, but here’s a record of my good intentions (may they pave my way to hell).

In my experience of testing my mortality and swimming through new social pools – or more accurately the aftermath the following afternoons – I have managed to educate myself in some of the films that occupied my large personal pit of ignorance. To name a few: Good Morning, Vietnam, The Breakfast Club, Dead Poets Society and A Few Good Men. I was warned that my first year would be spent mostly watching everything Netflix has to offer, and although I haven’t watched anything other than Stranger Things on there I do see why I was warned of this. It takes far less focus to let a film wash over you than to channel some genius into a public medium or personal project. Too big-headed?

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I’ve also made a trip to the National Theatre. I went to see Checkov’s ‘Ivanov’. Spoiler alert: He should have moved the ending back to 20 minutes in when Ivanov was contemplating his resolution. Apologies for being intentionally vague, but I’m not one to dish out spoilers. However, for anyone familiar with the play  and understanding of my reference, I also may have whispered to myself (a little too loudly, I’m told) ‘Just do it!’ at the 20 minute mark. My new friends agreed with the sentiment, so no harm done.

So if nothing else, I’m soaking up new experiences and filling knowledge gaps here. With any luck, I’ll come out the other side of my first year as a better rounded individual. Perhaps even ready to do the ‘serious’ work that lies beyond.

 

P.S. For any gamers reading this (I think this is an ‘indie‘ title), Undertale is a wonderful investment. It does, however, require DETERMINATION and an understanding of MERCY.

dirtybrotherkiller
You’re gonna have a bad time.

 

Listening To: Greatest Hits Collection – Elvis Presley

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