the common room

Every action has a consequence. Like the silver spheres that collide upon their counterparts only to send a ripple of kinetic energy along and disrupt the peaceful lay of he who is at the end.

Things happen. This is inevitable. You can live in the deepest of caves with nothing but a candle for company but things will still happen: the days will pass with each sunrise and sunset, flowers will bloom and then die with the changing seasons, and the tides will rise and fall with the passing moon. However, unlike these natural occurrences, some things are avoidable.

Humans are gifted with the blessing of choice – we can decide whether we do something or not. Unfortunately, this choice is often taken for granted. People take little pride in their ability to choose and often don’t take it seriously enough. What you decide to do, or not do, will have an effect on the way things play out. Most of the time, these effects are little and almost impalpable. Occasionally, though, you will be faced with a choice which will have dire consequences. And it is in this moment that you must think carefully about what may follow. Make the wrong move and you have only yourself to blame.

No amount of regret can reverse the hands of time. No amount of tears or pain will undo that which has been done. So think twice – just think.

And just like that, I have lost it. In that briefest of moments, I have made the mistake which will end it.

performed by Kelly Clarkson.

Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories they’re haunted
We were always meant to say goodbye

Even with our fists held high
It never would’ve worked out right
We were never meant for do or die

I didn’t want us to burn out
I didn’t come here to hold you, now I can’t stop

I want you to know that it doesn’t matter
Where we take this road someone’s gotta go
And I want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better
But I want you to move on so I’m already gone

Looking at you makes it harder
But I know that you’ll find another
That doesn’t always make you want to cry

Started with a perfect kiss then we could feel the poison set in
Perfect couldn’t keep this love alive
You know that I love you so, I love you enough to let you go

I want you to know that it doesn’t matter
Where we take this road someone’s gotta go
And I want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better
But I want you to move on so I’m already gone

I’m already gone, already gone
You can’t make it feel right when you know that it’s wrong
I’m already gone, already gone
There’s no moving on so I’m already gone

Already gone, already gone, already gone
Already gone, already gone, already gone, yeah

Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories they’re haunted
We were always meant to say goodbye

I want you to know that it doesn’t matter
Where we take this road someone’s gotta go
And I want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better
But I want you to move on so I’m already gone

I’m already gone, already gone
You can’t make it feel right when you know that it’s wrong
I’m already gone, already gone
There’s no moving on so I’m already gone

The second term of my final year at Lancaster University has ended, and with just one left, the end is in sight. It’s ridiculous how quick these three years have gone by; feels like only yesterday that I was first stepping onto campus and meeting my flatmates for the very first time with abated breath. 3 years on and 16 modules later, I’m being shoved out into the real world. I’d like to say that I am fully prepared for what’s to come now, but I’m really not. I applied for PGCE training, but due to my lack of timekeeping skills (as always) I submitted my application a bit late to only two institutions in England: Institute of Education, London, and Department of Education, Cambridge. Not exactly a good impression to make on two of the leading Teacher Training establishments. Oops. So, slightly reluctantly, I’m having to take a year out – a year full of unknowns.

So, before all the uncertainty threatens to swallow me whole, I am choosing to enjoy the stability of university life. I will miss it terribly, More specifically, I will miss the people associated with it. I have come to love many a people in the little city that is Lancaster, and saying goodbye to them will be all but easy. I imagine that I will be in need of buckets either side of me to contain the water flow from my eyes. I think some major partying is in dire need now. Let’s see the last 3 years off with a very big bang!

Recently, I was subjected to a personality test in class. I use the word subjected for semantic reasons only, because the negative connotations associated with the word do not apply here – I rather enjoyed the experience. Anyways, the test determined my personality by way of preferences and the outcome was 4 letters: INFJ. Apparently, I fit into one of 16 different personality types. In fact, the theory is that everyone, with no exceptions, will fit into one of these types. Any alarm bells ringing yet? Exactly. Is it really possible to describe everyone in the world using only 16 types? Most likely not. So, why do it? Why do psychologists always put people into boxes? In fact, why do humans put other humans into little boxes?

It’s true. Humans are obsessed with categories and labels, it appears. We live a very organised life. Even the laziest, messiest, slobbiest of people will have organisors of one kind or another. Most interestingly are the ones we use for our fellow people. There is an unspoken, unconscious process through which we “sort” the people in out lives. The number of boxes we use is dependent on ourselves. For example, it could be as little as two: “people I like” and “people I dislike”. Usually, however, it is a bit more complex. “People from my course”, “people from uni who aren’t in my course”, “people who are from my courses in first year”, “people in my college”, “people in my college darts team” etc. The list can continue, and that’s just for the people in university with you. The funny thing is, that once we’ve formed these groups, we tend to be reluctant to let them interact or worse merge. God forbid that we should have to resort someone. We obviously put some sort of importance on these boxes…but what real use do they actually have? Is there any real benefit in boxing up our friends? And what would happen if they were all tipped out onto the floor in one big pile? Will we not be able to cope with the chaos of interactions? I wonder…do you?

They say: if it ain’t broken, don’t fix it. In that respect, if it is broken, do fix it, right? Well, it’s come to my attention that I, myself, maybe broken and I guess it’s about time that I try to do something about that. Afterall, I am 21 – when better?

It took some rather honest and open criticism from someone dear for me to see my faults. To be honest, I kinda knew they were there – I just ignored them and took for granted, the patience and tolerance of people around me. To have them pointed out and laid bare before me was a shock to the system to say the least, and I’m pretty certain that things will never go back to how they were. So, shouldn’t I change with the times? It’s not going to be easy, and I’m probably going to struggle for a while but I hope that with change will come progress: I want to be a better man.

Regret, sorrow and self-beration aren’t going to do anything. So for once, I’m going to keep a stiff upper lip, accept the consequences and move on.

Change is inevitable.

It’s easy to make mistakes in life – it only takes a split second for something to go horribly wrong. You might say something; you might do something; you might misinterpret something; you might see or hear something. And usually, in that very instant, you realise: shit, I’ve made a mistake. But it’s already too late – it’s out there, and you can’t take it back. Time-reversal would come in very handy, you think.

I’ve commited more than my fair share of stupidity. I’m one ruled by emotions and though I have now learnt to suppress these feelings (for the most part), I have erred many a time due to a sudden rush. Even now, I am prone to slip up, and unfortunately, these slip ups always seem to have so much resting on them. Maybe I am being melodramatic, and the world isn’t going to end, but I do feel a sense of downward spiralling at times – I stand at the brink, at the top of it all, and then I’m falling with nothing to cling to. Will I get back to where I was before? I don’t actually know, which scares me. All I can do is apologise, and hope for the best.

I’m sorry.

That’s it. It’s come. It’s finally happened. I’m 21. And as I’m constantly being reminded by all those near and dear, it’s all downhill from here. Now that’s a depressing thought! So, why linger on the doom and gloom of what may or may not be? Let’s reminisce on the good that’s already been.

• Sledding in Germany on the second exchange.
• “Cordon bleu” laughter with Jess.
• Shopping with Charlotte: “Nah, these are too cheap.” (on £500 worth of clothing in House of Fraser)
• Leaving home for university.
• Meeting Carol, Adam and Katy.
• Spontaneous trip to Dublin, and thus meeting Jeff and co.
• Discovering the joy of gigs – Kosheen, Alphabeat, Roisin Murphy, Reel Big Fish so far. Beyonce, Britney, Little Boots, Frankmusik and Emiliana Torrini to come.
• First year with Lauren – mutual racism is a hoot.
• Getting a double bed.
• The time when Adam almost pooed himself.
• Going blind (twice) due to the smallest amount of alcohol.

And many, many more. I think I love my life.

Blogging.

It’s not a recent phenomenon, I know, but it’s one that I’ve only recently paid any attention to really (probably because I actually maintain my own now). It’s a bit crazy really. What once used to remain stashed away at the back of the drawer, in a shoe box, covered with irrelevant paper, marked “DO NOT OPEN” is now openly available to be read by people all over the world – at the writer’s choice!!

Ok, so it might not be a diary, but in some ways blogs are just as personal. People only start blogs about something they are interested in; something they are happy (and able) to write about regularly; something they want the world to see/read/feel. And that can reveal a whole lot more about a person than a minute-by-minute guide to their day so far. Plus, it’s a lot more interesting. It’s most interesting, when you know the writer behind the writing. I’ve found friends with seemingly schizophrenic writer tendencies. That is they sound like completely different people when they write for their blogs; it’s a side of them I’ve never had the chance to see, and it thrills me to no end!

So, come and join in the experience. Get blogging! Start by reading some (check my blogroll for a few) and then write to your heart’s content.