Wednesday, November 22

Oooooh... those things called 'choices'...

Yesterday, bar my French speaking exam (which I decided to go in for to get out of the way with), I was in, on my own. Spent the day reading 'Regeneration', in between sleeping, eating, drinking & watching The OC. (Edit* -- I played The Beatles afterwards.)

Sat in near-enough the same position for a day, it was sort of strange. Just watching the weather flitter between moods; the clouds swishing, letting the sun appear, to then block the rays a few minutes after; and the obvious daily changes, watching people moving round the street, it felt like everything was on fast-forward, like how it does in films. Considering I'd done frankly shit-all, the day had gone surprisingly well.

But at times I did want someone else there, or other people at least there at points, just for sake of 'participation', I suppose, & yet that was the very same thing I relished -- that despite the majority being in school, going through a day in the system, as per usual, I had taken a day out. It wasn't that I wanted them there to really talk to or anything though, there was nothing I had urgent to say -- despite texts from friends asking whether I was still alive... -- I just wanted a hug, or someone to talk to me whilst I sat drinking honey & lemon drink, sniffling, curled up under my blanket, feeling satisfactorily mooch-ified.

Still, I was very ill. & Am still, in fact.

Very ill, being owner of bulging, angry-red tonsils, infected throat, blocked-sinuses... yes, the descriptions do wonders for the lovely state of my mind. (Although the 'stiletto-stabbing' thoughts have recently passed. Thank god, even though I've not got a god to thank, but hey, I shall thank her (just to be awkward) anyway.)

I could blame it on the stress, and the routine, but that'd not really get me anywhere. Still, good reading time. & hot-chocolate drinking; of course, most important.

So anyway, I didn't do a lot, but I did a lot of watching, and a lot of thinking, and I remembered exactly why I like reading -- because when you can't find someone who you can offload your thoughts about particular things onto, you can either find thoughts on similar topics in a book to challenge your own, or, immerse yourself in totally other thoughts for sake of distraction. Generally, I prefer the former. If the thoughts are there, they're there, I've given up trying to get rid of annoying thoughts which life would be easier without. & hey, it might be easier, but it'd be a hell of a lot less interesting & absurd, & I'd probably not even be writing this, because it'd not even occur to me to contemplate such matters in the first place.

I told you I did a lot of thinking, & I suppose I found this easier to do because it wasn't so interrupted, & it was like there was space to think. For once, my day wasn't divided up into blocks of this and that, preordered and made into ickle slices of pathetic boredom already. Okay, so a little hyperbole (no need to point out there's not such a thing, really, just don't...) perhaps, but you get the gist that I don't like my life being cut up into slices of boredom. I suppose it's good if the slices are of sleeping & drinking hot chocolate & phone calls with friends & seeing my parents to talk about nice things & reading books which are good for my thoughts, but more often than not, I don't have that choice. I also wanted to go for a walk. You know, good long few miles walk. The sort of walk where you walk through the pain of being tired and your muscles aching, where everything seems a blur but the continual forward-going-ness, interspersed maybe with conversation, if such company is available.

But let's get back to the thoughts. Lots of people live their lives working jobs they don't want to work but do for the money, for the status, for the power, going to marriages which they just retain for sake of not wanting to be 'another failed marriage' statistic, living with people because it's easier to live with them than get out there and meet new people who they might prefer, staying in the same, old, boring cycle because they're too frightened to get out of it.

& This petrifies* me.

I never want life to become a cycle of boredom, repetitiveness, with nothing new or exciting, no new places because I don't make the effort to save to go, or make excuses about it costing too much, or not knowing the language. I want to go, even if it means not staying in the best of hotels, even if I'm having to learn the language as I go along. Don't get me wrong, little-miss-katy doesn't expect everything to be perfect, to not have boring blips, but that's exactly all I want the boredom to be -- a blip, a tiny, little blip, an intrusion upon the normal 'routine' of discovery or adventure or newness.

Maybe what particularly scared me about yesterday was how everything so far seems to have gone so fast, how each year passes with growing speed, how the kids I babysit for suddenly seem so much more 'grown-up'.

This post might seem silly when I look back on it, & I know there are a great deal of things people do not because they want to, but because they feel the need, or really do have the need. & I know growing-up comes with responsibility; thing is, I don't want too much of that, & fear I never will. 'Growing-up' shouldn't mean having to adopt routines because the majority does, nor should it mean doing so because the other options seem too daunting because they're new; 'growing-up' (& here I use inverted commas not merely to mock the general idea of 'growing up', but also because I severely doubt I will ever really manage such a thing in the typical way; I am far too awkward) should mean more opportunities, more choices, more chances, more enjoyment & ability to choose the way to go about spending life

*Notice the special effects - good, don't you think?