Wednesday, 28 December 2011
Friday, 8 October 2010
I like twitter.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Friday, 5 March 2010
As a hater of all things warm, these days please me. As a hater of bright lights, these days aggravate me. Although as my hate for heat is stronger than that of my hate of sun light, overall, these days please me. Not my favourite of days however.
Very photogenic light though...
...shame there is little but trees to take photographs of at this time of year, especially if your only going as far as your back garden.
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
I had severe problems with school. The whole concept of going to a children farm to be bullied, socially categorized and kept to a strict derivative schedule was difficult for me to get my head around. I simply didn’t understand: why people enjoyed it, why people did it, why I was made to do it. I was/have and always will be an extremely abnormal person and found very quickly that the social inventory had very little space for a person like me.
Oh don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t picked out for special terrorization by the others, I didn’t sit alone, silent at the front of the class, I had those communal moments of laughter, dissatisfaction and aggression as with all school lives, but they were filled with huge amounts of unnecessary fear and stress, that the others just didn’t seem to feel in the same way. I just fear people. I just see interaction as too complex to come naturally, often accompanied with enormous pressure, pressures that I just couldn’t seem to take in all at once.
And so I lived for the straightforward clear-cut quiet moments alone in-between the demoralizing, soul crushing drudgery of being in the company of other people, (and in that aspect I haven’t changed at all). On school nights I would cry myself to sleep in the knowledge that it would all begin again tomorrow, and on weekends I would weep in relief in the knowledge that I was safe and all was well, even if it was just for a short while. This unremitting suffering inevitably ended with mental breakdown, sickness and eventually my complete and utter isolation from the social world. I cannot put into words the sheer liberating relief I felt when I first stopped attending school. I knew what I was doing would ultimately lead to serious problems in my later life, but at 14 I was already too emotionally broken to care. I wanted to be alone. I couldn’t do society, I wasn’t made for it. There was something wrong with me, I wasn’t an average case of teen anxiety/bulling, people WERE nice to me, people LIKED me, people WANTED to be my friend, they just didn’t understand their communications were frightening me, that I was scared...
My point is, on this documentary they were saying how hard it was for the parents and children to separate, for the children to cope with life AT school, and I think they should have featured a child like me on their little documentary to give the whole thing some perspective. I am telling you now if my family had sent me away to boarding school, with that agonising social fear 24/7, I WOULD have just snapped and killed myself. I’m sad to say, I kid you not. And with these kids it seemed it took a few tears, some phone calls and a little time and boom...they were fine. It really didn’t reflect on how sending your kid to boarding school could end. How it really could go wrong. And that annoyed me especially knowing from personal experience how hard life at a normal school can be, let alone a boarding school. But then, I thought to myself a little while later, the documentary drew on the lives of 4 NORMAL children, and going insane and committing suicide hardly reflects on how an average student would act in a situation like that now does it?
Saturday, 27 February 2010
and a pretty old rock hanging in the sky.
Meanwhile my froggy house-friends seem to be doing a little better at this spring mating stuff...
But that is certainly not what has been the object of my confusion recently. Every year it has become, to some extent, a tradition for us to go out across the commons and examine the yearly frog spawn situation, (I say it like that not to sound like a curious child but more like an aspirant herpetologist...but I suspect it’s not working) and every single year I get way ahead of myself. I assume that after Christmas, the new year and January will follow, trailed not too distantly by spring and therefore frog spawning.
(So in my head it works like this: January = frogspawn)
Even though I’m well aware that spring begins in late march and subsequently so does the mating of creatures, when January lurks just round the corner I still direct my attention to the coming of tadpoles, and then get a shock when I have to wait over two months for them to appear.
Spring is taught as the first season of the four. It’s spring, summer, autumn, winter and if you type seasons into Google images you will be plagued with images featuring spring as the first season of the year. But it’s not. Not really. Winter frequently continues to brutally freeze our most private of bodily areas from the first day of the year long into the month of March...
So who invented this ridiculous illogical calendar? The Romans apparently. It seems that giving us many of the tools to construct the underrated incredibly complex and advanced civilized world which we live in today wasn’t enough for them, they decided it would be best to gift us with their calendar designs, which was clearly, created with the intent to cause maximum frustration, confusion and upset. (Of which I’m now certain was all directed at me and my love of amphibian related stuffs.) Bastards. Complete and utter bastards. Romani ite domum.