London, baby....
Okay guys, this is a real diary entry I was writng in London, but then Annie got paranoid she was in it, so I had to let her read it, so I may as well let everyone else...
I have just endured the most mind-numbing, soul-destroying tedium. I'm being deadly serious when I say I contemplated jumping off the balcony, possibly plunging to my death.
We went to see 'Endgame' by Samuel Beckett. NOTHING intelligible or understandable happened for an hour and a half. Several people, including one teacher, fell asleep. Some were snoring. I am not joking or exaggerating when I say that hour and a half was the longest and worst time in my entire life. Other moments have featured extreme emotions, despair, sorrow, fury, or shame, betrayal, or even all of them. This was so awful, so totally soul-destroying that it eradicated all emotions. It was the absence of any emotion that made it such an unpleasant experience. In that time, I evaluated the play (acting was brilliant, no plot to speak of, writing appalling, directorial interpretation GOD-AWFUL!), the theatre (32 lights on the rig, 12 light fittings, 1 chandelier with 12 face...) and finally my life. It was like at night, when everything and anything seems so much devastatingly worse – literally and metaphorically the darkest time. I just felt so awful. Everything hit me, everything about Aylson. (Totally buggered up my whole Lent thingy). I wasn’t actually thinking about it, but all the feelings were there. My life felt kind of worthless and pathetic. And at the same time I was focussing so hard on staying awake, that was all my mind was doing. My body was totally asleep, I was watching and hearing the play but not seeing it or listening to it. I just felt analytical, psychological, BLAH.
Nostalgia is a dangerous thing. It clouds the mind and alters our perceptions. Were things really good? There's been so many things to trigger my memory these last few days... songs, in-jokes, mannerisms. I think maybe I like to wallow [in sadness]. I like to remember things, even though it makes me so upset, because there were good times. It made me feel loved, that when we were in a huge group, there was someone who I could have that special connection, emotional link, bond. Someone who let you into their thoughts, someone who you laid your soul bare to. Someone to who you mattered, someone whose life you touched, someone to whose life you made a difference, and would care if you weren’t there. Or at least that's what I thought, I don't know. I always felt she never felt the same way. Was I just destructive, did I try to create sadness? Whatever, I miss her, things, it, like hell.
Never trust an actor. Sometimes I totally feel manipulative – I genuinely nearly cried tonight, but stopped myself. Does that mean other times I could have stopped, so therefore other times weren’t genuine? Surely a good actor, a capable actor can accurately portray emotions? How could you ever trust such a person? I never pretended to be a good actor, but I really don’t know. Am I manipulative? I trusted an actor once with everything, with all of me, letting her see right deep into my thoughts. I feel that trust was betrayed – for God's sake, she shared everything I told her with her mum and other friends! I don’t know if I ever can or ever will expose so much of myself again.
'She held her breath, waiting for Bruce to see right through to her scared and jealous heart.'
I feel so alone. There is a huge group, and I'm rattling around emptily inside. I don't feel I've bonded with anyone else in the group this trip. I feel left out, thinking other people are getting closer, cutting me out. I'm paranoid and jealous. I think I must be self-destructive, letting her control me, control my thoughts and actions then, and my thoughts now. I crave her attention, I want her friendship, I need to scream.
Something is wrong, I don’t know what. I've felt unusually angry, upset, alone, ostracised this trip. I don’t know. I have to stop.
And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand,
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am...
After WW1, people tried to get back to the way things were before the war, but it was a mistake. The war and it's effects were irreversible, and nothing would ever be the same again.
Sometimes i feel so insignificant. Just one amng many, my life doesn't mean anything. In Craigmount alone there are 1400 people, all living their lives, having their own little traumas, which to them seem all-important, but to everyone else mean NOTHING. On the grand scale of things, we just don't matter.
On the grand scale, where do we feature?
Hundreds of lives, living in close proximity.
Rendering us all insignificant.
Fighting an eternal battle against oblivion and time,
Condemned by one, doomed to the other.
Where in all these neverending stars do I fit in?
****************************************
In other news, Bryan left Westlife today. They may split up soon.
I have just endured the most mind-numbing, soul-destroying tedium. I'm being deadly serious when I say I contemplated jumping off the balcony, possibly plunging to my death.
We went to see 'Endgame' by Samuel Beckett. NOTHING intelligible or understandable happened for an hour and a half. Several people, including one teacher, fell asleep. Some were snoring. I am not joking or exaggerating when I say that hour and a half was the longest and worst time in my entire life. Other moments have featured extreme emotions, despair, sorrow, fury, or shame, betrayal, or even all of them. This was so awful, so totally soul-destroying that it eradicated all emotions. It was the absence of any emotion that made it such an unpleasant experience. In that time, I evaluated the play (acting was brilliant, no plot to speak of, writing appalling, directorial interpretation GOD-AWFUL!), the theatre (32 lights on the rig, 12 light fittings, 1 chandelier with 12 face...) and finally my life. It was like at night, when everything and anything seems so much devastatingly worse – literally and metaphorically the darkest time. I just felt so awful. Everything hit me, everything about Aylson. (Totally buggered up my whole Lent thingy). I wasn’t actually thinking about it, but all the feelings were there. My life felt kind of worthless and pathetic. And at the same time I was focussing so hard on staying awake, that was all my mind was doing. My body was totally asleep, I was watching and hearing the play but not seeing it or listening to it. I just felt analytical, psychological, BLAH.
Nostalgia is a dangerous thing. It clouds the mind and alters our perceptions. Were things really good? There's been so many things to trigger my memory these last few days... songs, in-jokes, mannerisms. I think maybe I like to wallow [in sadness]. I like to remember things, even though it makes me so upset, because there were good times. It made me feel loved, that when we were in a huge group, there was someone who I could have that special connection, emotional link, bond. Someone who let you into their thoughts, someone who you laid your soul bare to. Someone to who you mattered, someone whose life you touched, someone to whose life you made a difference, and would care if you weren’t there. Or at least that's what I thought, I don't know. I always felt she never felt the same way. Was I just destructive, did I try to create sadness? Whatever, I miss her, things, it, like hell.
Never trust an actor. Sometimes I totally feel manipulative – I genuinely nearly cried tonight, but stopped myself. Does that mean other times I could have stopped, so therefore other times weren’t genuine? Surely a good actor, a capable actor can accurately portray emotions? How could you ever trust such a person? I never pretended to be a good actor, but I really don’t know. Am I manipulative? I trusted an actor once with everything, with all of me, letting her see right deep into my thoughts. I feel that trust was betrayed – for God's sake, she shared everything I told her with her mum and other friends! I don’t know if I ever can or ever will expose so much of myself again.
'She held her breath, waiting for Bruce to see right through to her scared and jealous heart.'
I feel so alone. There is a huge group, and I'm rattling around emptily inside. I don't feel I've bonded with anyone else in the group this trip. I feel left out, thinking other people are getting closer, cutting me out. I'm paranoid and jealous. I think I must be self-destructive, letting her control me, control my thoughts and actions then, and my thoughts now. I crave her attention, I want her friendship, I need to scream.
Something is wrong, I don’t know what. I've felt unusually angry, upset, alone, ostracised this trip. I don’t know. I have to stop.
And I don't want the world to see me,
Cause I don't think that they'd understand,
When everything's meant to be broken,
I just want you to know who I am...
After WW1, people tried to get back to the way things were before the war, but it was a mistake. The war and it's effects were irreversible, and nothing would ever be the same again.
Sometimes i feel so insignificant. Just one amng many, my life doesn't mean anything. In Craigmount alone there are 1400 people, all living their lives, having their own little traumas, which to them seem all-important, but to everyone else mean NOTHING. On the grand scale of things, we just don't matter.
On the grand scale, where do we feature?
Hundreds of lives, living in close proximity.
Rendering us all insignificant.
Fighting an eternal battle against oblivion and time,
Condemned by one, doomed to the other.
Where in all these neverending stars do I fit in?
****************************************
In other news, Bryan left Westlife today. They may split up soon.