Idiocracy

I detest job applications. It’s therefore unfortunate that I’ve had to fill quite so many in within the comparatively short space of my lifetime. It is, of course, further proof that I am in fact dead and presently find myself nestling somewhere within the seven circles of hell.

Actually, the whole thing’s far easier to explain. I’ve had to do so many job applications because I’m no good at them. Like a nervous driver forced to take his test for the seventeenth time, I’m forever stuck in a seemingly never ending cycle of job applications that will never end until I’ve managed to master the minutiae. To stretch the metaphor further, I can quite happily drive down a road and keep well within the speed limit, but a three point turn sadly eludes me.

The simple fact is, I’m just not a good salesman, especially when I don’t believe in the product, which obviously in the case of job applications is me. Actually that’s untrue. Catch me at the right moment and I have a huge degree of self confidence, it’s just that I wouldn’t recommend me for some of the jobs I go for. I know that I’ll get bored, miserable and depressed by the majority of situations. Past experience has taught me that. Not only that, I’m certainly not a team player and I hate authority and that doesn’t seem to meet with the expectations of most employers these days.

I always thought that companies would be happy to accept all the non-conformists. The people that don’t really fit in, but do excellent work. The people whose raw talent far outweighs their comparatively insignificant foibles.  Maybe my expectations are unrealistic, but I wonder whether these days, it’s quite as easy to be recognised for being exceptional.

I’d blame it all on the entire system, all the way back from education to employment. Schools and universities churn out identikit students, all with the same abilities, the same hopes and dreams. Time is spent raising the intellectually superior. So much time, in fact, that the cleverer kids are ignored and left to sink to the same level as their naturally imbecilic peers.

Most of them simply crave status, fame and money. You’re taught the lesson that normality is best. At all costs, you must fit in. They hone their ability to conform to the lowest common denominator. That’s why all areas of life are so bland. Sure, you may have met people along the way who had radical ideas about changing the world. They may have dressed but what happened to them. Today, they’ll all be working as Accountants and lawyers, bankers and IT consultants. Their youthful fervour, having long since deserted them, gives way to a need to be just like everyone else.

Take a look at television. Any show that displays even the slightest glimmer of originality is swept aside to make way for a reality/talent contest/home redesign programme. Why? Because that’s what gets the ratings. The masses may well be asses, but the gullible and simple minded are the most susceptible to suggestion. The ad men love these people because they can sell them anything. You can make more money by appealing to the greatest amount of people, so why bother doing anything else. Money and selling is all important. An orgy of consumerism ensues as we march, ever quicker towards the irrelevance of the entire human race. We are born, we buy and then we die. Progress declines to the point that we start to move backward. But who really cares. We’ve fulfilled the ultimate goal. After all, everyone’s now equal. Unfortunately, they’re all just equally mediocre.

We’re now a race that exists only to perpetuate ourselves, consume resources and buy stuff. There’s no real reason for us to exist any more. I can’t help feeling that the word would be far better off without us.

Falling Asleep at the Wheel.

Ok, so once more, it’s been a while since my last post. I actually started a few blog entries that ended up going nowhere. I guess, like a heck of a lot of things, I ended up loosing enthusiasm for what I was writing.

So, I guess I should give you all a situation update. Still no job. I really haven’t bothered looking for anything recently. I’ve had such difficulty getting anything when times were good that I suspect that I’ve got next to no chance getting anything, what with times being so bad.

So, I’ve had to consider my options. Aside from becoming a bum and spending all my savings on trying to get by, I figured that now might be as good a time as any to do a course and, once more, the idea of getting a Journalism qualification has come up. I think I could cope with a career as a journalist (possibly), but there are a few negative things about doing a course. No. 1, the cost. The cheapest course costs close to £4k, which is money I have, but I’m not sure whether I’m a good enough investment.  Sure, it’s all well and good if it actually leads to a job I don’t hate, but what if it leads to absolutely nothing.I’m also concerned that there are aspects of the course that I simply wont be able to grasp, shorthand being a good example. Strange though this may seem, I absolutely hate writing with a pen and paper because my handwriting’s so poor. How bad is it going to be when I’m trying to write in code at 80 wpm?

OK, so so I’m basically just afraid that I’ll make a hash of things, but do I really have anything to loose? My life’s pretty crappy as it is, is it really going to be significantly worse if I drop £4k on the road to nowhere? In all honesty, I really don’t want to spend the time doing a course. I hate the idea of doing exams  and learning things in a regimented fashion. Perhaps I should somehow try to learn the basics before I apply so as I can mitigate any potential losses?

I’ve also been trying to write a film, but that hasn’t been going too well either. I can never seem to get myself in the right mood to sit down in front of my laptop and get started. I’ve written a few pages, mostly whilst I’ve been in pubs in Central London. The last time I tried to that last week, I sat down only to discover that my Netbook’s battery was completely dead. I was sure that there was at least a couple of hours worth of life left in it, which is why I didn’t check. There’d been a problem with the battery draining whilst it was turned off, but I thought that I’d fixed it. I guess that’s taught me a lesson. Next time I’ll check.

Actually, the reason I’ve avoided writing of late is that a lot of what I’ve been thinking and doing isn’t all that newsworthy. Plus I’ve also been feeling a little up and down for the last month or so. It’s disappointing that I seem to be taking so many backward steps. I feel like I’m getting no nearer to getting things back together. My period of increased depression has alo coincided with some bouts of tiredness. I haven’t been able to get to sleep all that easily at night. Conversely I’ve found myself drifting off for a couple of hours at a time during the day. Actually I spend most of my time in a state of semi-catatonia. I’m too tired to do anything meaningful, so I’ve whiled away the hours watching TV and playing video games.

I’m wondering if there’s some sort of issue with my medication. Do I need a higher dosage, or something altogether new? Maybe I’ve had a bad batch and everything will be better next month. I’ve only got a few days worth left, so I’ll see how things are with the next lot. If things don’t improve in the next couple of weeks I guess I’ll have to make another apointment. This whole thing is such a hassle. I just wish I could be normal and have a normal life, a normal job and a normal relationship with a normal girl. Right now I don’t feel like I can have any of that because my brain is so out of whack that I can’t actually see myself being able to cope with any of it. I’ve been irritable too. I’ve snapped at people when they’ve asked me questions and lost my temper playing video games. I’ve felt anxious, my throat’s tightened and I’ve found myself worrying about stupid little things. I’ve worried about big things too and that’s sucked me even deeper into a dark well of depression. I can’t tolerate people, especially when they’re behaving in a stupid or selfish way.

I just want to be normal. Just like everybody else. Well, maybe not like everybody else. Everybody else is an arse.

Anyway, I’m tired now. I’ll just keep watching TV until my body shuts down. Give it five hours and I’m sure I’ll be there.

This Is How The World Ends

The beginning of the 21st century is where the future has been conceived.

If you put a frog into hot water it’ll jump out immediately, but if you put it into cold water and gradually turn the heat up it won’t notice that it’s being slowly boiled to death. At least not until it’s too late.

Our freedoms are eroded ever so gradually. Our ability to think for ourselves is slowly taken away. Our minds become nullified by brain dead television, our thoughts dictated by a dumbed down media. Politicians lie and cheat. Businessmen scheme and swindle. And it’s all for the relentless pursuit of money and power. An ill educated populationwithout all the facts, are a placid people and, as such are far easier to control. And as we find ourselves falling ever closer towards the idiocracy that inevitably awaits. But we don’t care. All we need to be happy are bread and circuses. Please, we beg, just insulate us from the pain of thought and the agony of free will. Absolve us of all responsibility. Let us claim wherever we see blame, but never let it lie on our own doorstep. Please, let someone else take responsibility.

Digital information isn’t static. It’s hard to change the contents of books stored on myriad dusty shelves, but with a single keystroke, the data stored on computers across the world can be altered subtly or even deleted altogether. History can be re-written daily by whoever controls the switch. Governments, companies; it’s all the same really, just some guy who wants to make all your decisions for you and tell you what you should think. It’s been like this forever of course. Newspapers have always had a political agenda or a financial imperative; but never has it been so easy to manipulate the minds of millions.

Hold on to the truths you believe, for they’re the most precious thing you own.

The road to ruin is paved with good intentions. The internet, Wikipedia, blogs Facebook, Twitter, or whatever else you might use, were set up to share information, not spread dissemination. But like everything else, information is a commodity in which the men with most money have the greatest share. That which conceived as a tool for good can always be put to a more nefarious use.

Don’t say that you’ve not been warned. Don’t march, blissfully unaware, to your dooms. Don’t say that you couldn’t feel it as they slowly turned up the gas.

There will be no bang as the world comes crashing down. And, with your attention distracted by your new master’s sleight of hand, you’ll barely even hear the whimper.

The Doctor will see you now.

I had a Doctor’s appointment on Friday. It seemed that, finally, after having been on medication for 15 months, they finally want to review the situation. I suspected, wrongly as it turned out, that they’ll want to take me off the tablets altogether. However, judging by my somewhat disastrous experiment with medication abstention back in April/May, that would have been an awful idea. Granted, I didn’t exactly come off the tablets gradually, but cutting back clearly wasn’t the answer. On the contrary, upping the dosage was what was called for. Happily my doctor agreed, noting that I really did seem rather depressed.

So what’s my problem?

I simply can’t motivate myself to do anything worthwhile. Since I left my last job I’ve only been able to apply for two positions, and on both occasions they haven’t bothered to get back to me. That sort of thing’s got quite commonplace; you send of an application and never hear anything. I’ve managed to take it one step further. I went to an interview at Hertz three weeks ago, but since then I’ve heard nothing. I mean, obviously I’m assuming that I didn’t get the job, but I’d as least expect Hertz or my agency to actually go to the effort of giving me a call to let me know. This is a prime example of the reasons why I’ve begun to disengage from society. Everybody’s an uncaring bastard. Nobody has any time for me. It’s no wonder that, over the last week, I’ve ended up going back to bed for much of the afternoon on at least three occasions. Sometimes I sleep and sometimes I just lie there.

Of course, even on days when I’ve absolutely exhausted myself, I can’t sleep at night. My mind races uncontrollably. From the moment I shut my eyes, images dance around in my head. Then, just as I’m about to finally drift off, I awaken from my near-slumber with a clichéd gasp for air.

The thing is, at least I know I’m not crazy. If I were crazy I’d happily walk back into the world of mediocre employment and give not a single thought about how miserable it all made me. Practically, certainly from a monetary point of view, I’ll need to get a regular income. Sure, I’ve taken close to £400 in the last month from eBay sales. It’s enough to pay the bills (especially since I’ve ended up having to put a fair whack of they towards paying for my new laptop), but I’m really going to need a hell of a lot more if I actually want some kind of worthwhile life.

So it’s all a lot of fun, but at least it stops things from being boring.

Of course, I’ve been engaging in a few other, somewhat healthier activities, at least mentally speaking to keep the boredom at bay. I’ve resubscribed to Xbox Live  and, in the process, discovered that, after 3 months of not being used, my controller rechargeable batteries have both died. Getting the replacements has been all kinds of hassle, mostly due to Amazon’s ineptitude and, in all probability, the uselessness of the Royal Mail. I also picked up copies of a couple of games I’ve wanted for a while, namely Dead Space and Halo Wars. I haven’t really played either game enough to come to any kind of meaningful conclusion, but so far neither of them have repulsed me, so I guess that’s a good sign.

Without anywhere to go I’ve spent a lot of time catching up on my film watching. Believe it or not, I’d never seen Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest, so it was good to finally find out what I’d been missing out on. I’ve also managed to watch The Incredible Hulk and Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, the last two Marvel Super Hero movies that I hadn’t watched (and yes, that’s counting the truly abysmal Captain America and Nick Fury films made in the last couple of decades. I mean, really, what kind of a brain-dead director genuinely thought that it would be a great idea to cast David Hasslehof as S.H.I.E.L.D’s mono-ocular commander?).

(edit:-I’ve just noticed I mentioned all of the following film related stuff in my previous post, so feel free to ignore the next paragraph).

I’ve also had a chance to check out “In Bruges” (Just brilliant) and “In Search of a Midnight Kiss”. The latter is an LA based riff on Richard Linklater’s “Before Sunrise” and “After Sunset”. However, where as Linklater’s work treats us to beautiful European vistas, “In Search of a Midnight Kiss” serves us up a story garnished only by a dreary LA backdrop. It certainly isn’t a great advert for the local tourist board; to be frank, it’s really put me off ever wanting to set foot in the city.

My eBay sales went pretty well. I managed to raise about £300 by selling 40 of the 186 items I’d listed, so all in all a good hall. After re-listing (some of which was requested by eager, but tardy,  eBayers after the auction finished) I managed to take in another £80, which isn’t bad. At least it’s paying the bills and making it easier to move out, should any such opportunity present itself.

I’ve got more stuff on my mind, but that’ll do for this post. I’ll come back when I’ve thought it through a little more.

Not all doom and gloom

If you squint really hard you might actually be able to see Blur

Actually it’s turned out to be rather a nice day today. After I got over the not wanting to get out of bed stage of the afternoon, things ticked along quite nicely.I’ve watched three films today, “In search of a Midnight Kiss” which was excellent in an “it’s a bit like Before Sunrise” kind of a way (Except it’s set in LA which looks like a truly hideous place to live. There was a  “Thank you” to Richard Linklater though, so at least they’re acknowledging their influences), Resident Evil 3 (which was fun, but utterly forgettable. Nothing really seemed to happen, despite all the action) and “In Bruges” which was fantastic, funny and somewhat more poignant than I’d imagined.

As a measure of how much my mood has improved I’ve actually been cheered up by the extremely loud party that’s happening down the street. Usually, if I were feeling particularly misanthropic, I’d be cursing them for playing loud music so late (despite the fact that I’m nowhere near going to bed right now), but I’m actually quite enjoying it, as if I’m taking some sort of vicarious pleasure from it.

Still, it would have been nice if I’d had the opportunity to go out. A friend of mine called a little while ago to complain about being forced to go to a party tonight. He was actually still there when he rang. Typical really. I’d have loved to have gone to a party. Still, given that I’d already been to see Blur on Thursday, staying in and saving the cash I don’t really have was probably the wise thing to do.Then again, how much would going to a party really have cost? Train fare and a bottle of wine. I think I could have stretched to that.

But back to Blur who were, by the way, absolutely brilliant. During the course of a set that was heavy on songs from their third album “Parklife” Phil Daniels came out and did the song “Parklife”. I could ask for no more. Of course there were some odd choices and a few obvious omissions. From “The Great Escape” all they played was “The Universal” and “Country House” ; songs like “Stereotypes” and “Charmless Man” didn’t get a look in. Instead, the band chose to play a few of the more sombre tracks from “Blur”; “death of a party” being a particularly downbeat choice. It’s a shame I had to pop to the loo half way through. When I left they were playing one of their lesser songs, but by the time I got back they were just finishing “Coffee and TV”. Still, it didn’t matter too much seeing as it was an open air gig at Hyde Park and I could hear everything from the bathroom area. Besides, I even got a compliment on the “Goonies” T-Shirt I was wearing, so were at least a few plus points. Of course they also played stuff like “Song 2″ and “Beetlebum”, which, of course, kept me happy. You can’t really blame them for skipping over “The Great Escape” given the feeling that certain band members had about that album. Anyway, it was a great gig and, if you get the chance to see Blur live, I highly recommend them.

Actually, the whole open airiness of it all gave me an idea. Next time there’s a gig at one of London’s parks for which I haven’t been able to secure a ticket, I’m just going to turn up anyway and listen to the band whilst sitting just outside the gated area. That way I wouldn’t even have to pay for overpriced booze; I could just bring my own.  It’s win-win really.

Welll, I’ve got a busy couple of days coming up now. I put 186 items on eBay last Thursday when they were having a free listing day and everything finishes tomorrow. That means a day spent calculating combined postage costs, sending off invoices and wrapping things up followed by another dealing with the mildly inadequate staff at my post office who tend to get confused when I have two parcels to send.

I could really do with a load of things selling. My job interview on Monday really didn’t go too well. I’m still perplexed as to why I was sent on t in the first place when, quite clearly, I didn’t meet the requirements set out in the job spec. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t hear from my agency either before or after the interview, despite a promise to prep me for it over the telephone. Oh well, it looks like I’ll have to find something myself. That’s probably for the best to be perfectly honest. All the agency jobs haven’t really been my cup of tea, so I really could do with something for which I’m a little more suited. Anyway, to that end I’m going to use my week alone (My mum is, once again, on holiday. It didn’t really help matters that I had to take her to the airport at 4.30am on the morning of the Blur gig) to actually apply for jobs that I want to do. I know it seems obvious, but I really hadn’t considered the possibility that I might have a greater chance of getting the sort of jobs for which I can muster up a fair bit of enthusiasm and for which I posses some of the requisite skills. No wonder I’ve got depressed at work in the past. Anybody who was doing a job for which they have no aptitude would probably end up feeling like a bit of an underachiever.

Anyway, lets hope that I actually get round to doing the things I’ve mentioned in this post. I guess it all depends largely in how I feel, but with any luck I won’t be down in the doldrums at any time over the next 6 days.

I think the answer to being happy is, again, slightly obviously, to keep busy and do the things that I enjoy. I really do forget that some times.

Deja Vu

I have an interview tomorrow and really don’t want to go.

Why would I not want to go? Well, it’s at Hertz, and I have no desire to go back there.

It certainly wasn’t the worst place that I’ve ever worked, but let’s not forget that I was working there when it finally became obvious that my depression was so bad that medical intervention was required. Alright, it probably wasn’t the catalyst, but it certainly didn’t help matters. Let’s face it, my overriding memory of working there is having to spend up to half an hour every day hiding in the toilets because I couldn’t take the unbearable awfulness of it all. It was an overwhelmingly negative environment. With the shadow of future redundancy hanging over everyone, how could it be an even slightly cheery place to be.

But with this one, I’m totally familiar with the place and, in all probability, most of the people. There simply won’t be that 4-6 week period where I’m amused by the novelty of the new. Everything will be old and tarnished. I don’t want to do the job,  I don’t want to work at Hertz and I most definitely don’t want to have to spend any more time in Uxbridge.

Yes, I need the money, I need a job, but I really should be able to find something better than this. Going there will, I’m sure, set me back, and it’s not as though my mood’s been all that stable of late anyway.

A job would be good for me, but this one won’t. I’m sure of that.

On the plus side, if I get the job, I’ve got a month to find something better before I start work. That might actually cat as a sufficient motivation to get my head down and finally get something that I actually want to do. The thing is, I’m sure there are plenty of other people out there who are eminently more qualified. The job spec said that they wanted someone with 3 years insurance experience; I, for all intents and purposes, have none.

All I really have in my favour is the fact that I worked there before, and how much use is that going to be if I’m being interviewed by somebody who wasn’t around when I was there. Christ, for all I know they’ve replaced all the staff, so my previous experience there is going to count for shit.

The thing is, it’s more or less a lose, lose situation. If I get the job,working there once more will make me depressed. If I don’t get the job, I’ll get depressed and wonder why, even though I’ve worked at the company before, they don’t think I’m good enough. Remember, I went out with a girl who did the exact same job that I’m going for tomorrow,  and she wasn’t exactly a brain box. So if I don’t get the job, what does that say about me? Logically, of course, I know it says jack shit about me. So I’m not suited to a job for which I have no experience and no inclination.

I’m just going to go there and not care about it. I won’t actively try to fuck up the interview, but I’ve never really been all  that good at hiding my feelings about anything.The funny thing is, I think I got the last job at Hertz because I had a “don’t care” attitude, that stopped nervousness from getting  the better of me.

Anyway, this is what happens when I leave things up to fate. I think maybe I’d better take this as a sign that without some sort of effort on my part I’m only ever going to go backwards.

Screw Karma. Misanthropy is my new philosophy

It strikes me that there are an awful lot of people out there who are getting things that they don’t deserve. Contrary to popular wisdom, good things happen to bad people. It’s not just bad people who get what they want; sometimes hopeless inadequates get rewarded too, despite (and, in somewhat perverse situations, because of) their incompetence.

People get fantastic jobs despite lacking the ability to do them properly just because they know the right people.

I won’t lie, there’s an element of sour grapes to this post. I’d generally consider myself to be a good person; a good person with some talent to boot, yet I find myself sitting in my room, alone, with nowhere to go any time soon.

I’m finding the actions of some people I know to be deplorable and wholly inconsiderate. I can’t stand people who don’t care about the feelings, safety and general well-being of others. People who thoughtlessly compromise peoples lives just to serve their own selfish needs utterly disgust me. From the company CEO who knowingly releases a defective and dangerous product on the market to the idiots whose car stereos blare out vile bass-ridden music at any time of day or night that takes their fancy, to the people who run roughshod all over the fragile hearts of others; they’re all scum, unworthy of the gifts that life has bestowed upon them.

These people, I’ve noted, are mostly men. It almost sickens me to be apart of their gender.

So, if you’re a philandering little shit you’ll no doubt have years of marital bliss ahead of you and all your misdeeds will go undiscovered.

If you’re a complete bastard who doesn’t give a damn about anybody else you’re sure to go far.

And that’s why I think that karma is bullshit. That doesn’t mean I going to suddenly change my ways and turn in to a massive wanker. It just means that I’m going to have to accept a life of mediocrity.

This place, this world, simply isn’t worth saving. We should all simply stop breeding and let the human race die out. Yes, people are responsible for great works of art, they perpetrate wondrously selfless acts of kindness and compassion, but all the good things that we do are far outweighed by the hideousness we inflict upon this world and upon each other. There are too many people who simply don’t deserve the life they’ve been given. Perhaps I’m one of them. Perhaps, because I’m wasting my life, I don’t deserve to have it. At times I have far more regard for myself than I should. Just take a look back at this post. Is it really that well written? Is it all that insightful? Christ, is it even adequately punctuated and proofread? Probably not.

But the big, overarching question is, do I even want good things to happen to me? Do I think that good things should happen to me? If I did, I could easily (well not easily, but it’s certainly not beyond the realm of possibility) make good things happen. Nothing I want is beyond realistic attainability.

From time to time people suggest to me that I should try and meet someone, but why should I inflict myself upon any prospective girlfriend. I have to put up with me, but whyt should anyone else.

It’s funny because I I don’t see myself as being an attractive prospect, but I find girls who have attributes of my personality, who share many of the same failings, to be immensely appealing. So what does that say? Am I a narcissistic self-loather?

It’s lunch time, and I kno I should eat, but I just don’t know what to have. Whatever I make I’ll get sick of it after a few bites. Despite that I’ll still make my way through it in a workman like fashion. Anything else would be a waste. Then I put on weight, grow less physically attractive, become a little more depressed and get a better excuse for disengaging from siciety altogether.

A part of me longs for human contact whilst I’m simultaneously sickened by the idea. I yearn for something that I simply do not want. It’s just something that I shouldn’t have.

I don’t want to inflict myself upon someone. I don’t want them to shoulder my burden because I feel like I can offer nothing in return. I’ve had relationships where my own condition got in the way of helping them through their problems. I was so filled with sadness for their situation that I could do nothing for them but cry, and what use is that? Empathy is, I’m sure, a wonderful trait, but what’s the point of  it if it overwhelms you leaving you incapable of offering any kind of practical assistance? You become more useless, more depressed. Those feelings of self-loathing are heightened to the point of becoming unbearable. How selfish, callous and uncaring would I be if I knowingly subjected another person to all my torment?

So is it better for everyone if I stay out of things and let life pass me by?

Ten Years Later…

I’ve had a lot to write about over the last few weeks, but being the dumb ass that I am, I haven’t managed to tap it all out on any one of my now severely diminished number of computer keyboards.

There was stuff about the broads trip, a little bit more about the bouts of depression from which I’ve been suffering recently (uplifting stuff eh?), possible job interviews (no really). So, there were all sorts of things I could write about, I just chose not to. Maybe in another post.

This new laptop’s also taking a bit of getting used to. I think I actually prefer the keyboard on my trusty old Samsung x15, but there’s no chance I’ll ever be able to use that laptop again. Aside from the fact that it broke, quite a huge number of its components have now been sold to all sorts of people across the country, so there’s no way I could ever re-assemble it.

Obviously there’s much to like about the new laptop, but there’s also some room for improvement. The touch sensitive buttons above the keyboard are nice, but my finger keeps sliding over the wireless on/off button (not quite the right word, but I think you probably see what I mean. Maybe area would be better?) leading to a few minutes of confusion whilst I try to figure out where all my internets have gone.

Amyway, I’m sure I’ll get used to it all. It’ll just take time. In actual fact, today is the first day that I’ve switched to using it as my primary laptop. Up until now I’ve just used my netbook. It’s daft really; I think I was worried about damaging the shiny black exterior of my new machine, so I simply didn’t use it. It really is very pretty though; perhaps even prettier than a Macbook. Well, I suppose that’s subjective, and just a tiny bit irrelevant. A laptop is, after all, just a tool. People don’t get excited about the “sexiness” of a washing machine, so quite why ‘ anything gadgetry gets praised for its sleek aesthetics is slightly beyond me. I suppose that you’re bound to form more off an attachment to your laptops and MP3 players; you are, after all, handling them on a daily basis. Then again, there are some people end up having a somewhat more intimate relationship with their washing machines, especially when they’re on spin cycle. And, before I go any further, it’s probably best to back away from this topic and get back on track.

So, it’s been ten years since my undergraduate degree can to a disastrous end. Sure, I subsequently got a Master’s degree, but what else do I really have to show for the intervening decade?

Have I just completed my fith novel? Am working on the third series of my critically acclaimed TV show? Nope. Has my play opened in the west end to rave reviews. Not in this reality certainly. Did a major film studio just give me a development deal? Have I even had an article published in a paper based periodical? Of course not.

Would any of this have happened if only I’d tried? Who knows.

Did I want myself to succeed, or would I, deep down,  prefer to languish in the doldrums, forever and remain eternally unappreciated? I think, if want an example of how depression has effected my life, you only have to look at the things I haven’t done, even though it may well have been within the boundaries of my ability.

I’ve had enough of not wanting to be successful. I’m simply going to have to force myself to do something that might make me proud. I’m going to have to try, and damn the potential for failure that will, I fear, send me into an even deeper depression. Because that’s why I don’t try; I’m afraid of what failure will do to my mental state. The thing is, I’m pretty sure that, if I commit fully to something, I can achieve my goals. I just haven’t been able to do it.

Tomorrow (later today really), I’m off for an un-official University reunion, organised by one of my friends. Sure, for the mosr part, the attendes will be people I know and see all the time, but what about the rest? What will I tell all the other people that I haven’t seen for ten years how my life has gone in the last decade.

If nothing else comes from this I need to use this sense of disappointment in myself to do something better with my life; to make myself proud. I can’t go to the twenty year reunion feeling like this; like a failure.

Come 2019 I need to have something to boast about. Actually, better still, I’d like to be in a position where I don’t have to tell people about the things I’ve achieved because they’ll already have read my book, laughed at my sit-com, watched my play or eaten a huge bucket of popcorn whilst they enjoyed the movie I wrote. And, if I find a bit of time to write a few witty and thought provoking articles that they could read over breakfast, then all the better.

Well, I should probably put those thought to one side for the weekend and simply concentrate on enjoying myself. I shall at least, endeavour to cut my alcohol consumption by having shandies for the whole day. If I manage that, I’ll hopefully wake up hangover free, in a non-depressed state with enough control of my physical faculties to drive home in time for the British Grand Prix.

Well, I can dream cant I?

Minor Alterations

The title of this post is somewhat misleading since what’s called for, in my opinion,  is major changes.

I got my new laptop on Thursday, just before I went away on holiday. For the most part I’m very happy with it, though the small spec of dirt that clings to the inside of the screen’s outer layer is a little annoying. Hopefully it’ll drop off over time, because it really isn’t worth sending the laptop back because of it.  Besides, no replacement would be forthcoming because they’ve sold out and Tesco have apparently discontinued it. It also gets a little hot on the underside, but I suppose that could be a little to do with the absurdly clement weather we’ve been having.

Of course these are minor flaws and, after all, nobody, or thing, is absolutely perfect. Everybody, or thing, ever meets my overly exacting standards. Disappointment always ensues.

Still, the backlit keyboard’s certainly pretty, the screen is bright and clear and the construction, speck of dust on the inside of the screen aside, seems to be pretty good. The keyboard does seem to have a bit of flex to it, but  that may well settles down with time. As a bit of a bonus, at least, the leather accenting on the lid isn’t as tacky as I thought it would be.In actual fact it’s quite nice. Oh, and surprisingly, the sound quality’s actually pretty good; certainly way above the usual notebook standards.

Tragically, in the intervening few days, I’ve actually gotten quite used to using my tiny Netbook so it’s taking a while to acclimatise myself to the full sized keyboard. Still, I’m pretty sure that my headaches of the last few days have been caused by squinting at the netbook’s small screen, so it’s probably a good idea to switch to the comparatively massive 16″ display on my swanky new laptop.

So, with much of the laptop stuff out of the way, on to the Broads Holiday. Well, I didn’t have quite as good a time as last year, though that may have something to do with the rather appalling sunstroke from which I was suffering. Friday was good, but much of Saturday was a blur. It’s a good thing I took pictures, because I have practically no recollection of the whole day. I’d say it was definitely a mixture of too much alcohol and too much sun. Regardless, on Sunday I decided to lay off the booze altogether. Everybody else, of course didn’t, so whilst they all got drunker and drunker, I remained completely sober.

Anyway, I returned home wondering whether I really should have gone. I didn’t have a bad time, but I just don’t have the money. God, when am I ever going to have the money?

Gone

As I watched the man ride off on my bike (no, not my bike. His bike) I felt a pang of sadness. Of course, pretty much everything’s evoked  a sense of sadness in me of late, but seeing the bike slew precariously down the road made me feel like I was waving goodbye, not only to one of my previously treasured possessions, but to another little piece of the past. I used to ride that bike to college everyday (well, everyday from my final year onwards; I had another bike before that). It took two buses to get to college. I’d have to leave an hour before classes just to make sure I’d get there in time. By bike, I’d make it to college in 30 minutes. I was thinner and fitter in those days. I didn’t make too many friends in college. Why bother. After all, the goal was to get my A-Levels and go away to University where I could finally start living my life away from all the detritus of my home town.

I really wanted to get away. I deliberately didn’t choose to go to any Uni that was within a short train ride of my house. Actually, all the ones that met that criteria didn’t choose me. My predicted grades were pretty poor. I actually had to bargain with one lectured to get my sole predicted B grade. Three Cs just wouldn’t have got me anywhere, at least, I wouldn’t have got a place at any institution that, just a few years earlier, had been called a polytechnic.

People underestimate me. It makes me feel like I can’t do the things that I know, deep down, are well within my abilities.

Let’s face it, uni wasn’t the answer to all my problems. Sure, I met people who were more like minded, but who really does think just like me. Still, at least they understand me way better. Or maybe they’re just better at tolerating my idiosyncrasies.

I had friends at school.They were mostly arseholes. When I was about 11 or 12 a bunch of us played Dungeons and Dragons. I love to say that used the game to hone my storytelling skills, but the truth is I always preferred to play the adventures other people made up, no matter how crap they were. On the rare occasions on which I served as Dungeon Master, I put a great deal of effort into carefully crafting an exciting scenario for my friends to play. I painstakingly created locations, devised characters and prepared quests, but I shouldn’t have bothered. As if to make a mockery of my efforts, they all deliberately strayed far from the signposted path I’d set out for them. All my labours came to nought.

Why did they deliberately subvert me? Was I so intensely unlikeable that they had no choice but to fuck me over at the slightest opportunity?

One of the last times I remember playing they all ganged up on me, They decided, in a move that was completely out off step with the spirit of the game, to attack my character’s castle. Against their combined might, I didn’t stand a chance. The character, whom I’d built up over the previous months, was murdered. Why did they do it? Was it some sort of bizarre jealousy? Did they just want to upset me? I don’t talk to any of those guys anymore. Like I said, they’re arseholes.

I was very unhappy as a child. I remember being picked on for being different. I am different though. Now, in some ways, I quite like the fact that I don’t quite think in the same way as everyone else. It makes the actual day to day living of life a massive pain in the arse, but in my head, where practicalities aren’t a priority, I think it’s pretty cool.

As I was typing this, my email chimed. It turns out that I’ve just managed to sell remaining Advanced Dungeons and Dragons core rule books on eBay. That’s another door to a painful past almost shut tight. I had fun with it, but ultimately it simply gave people with another way to get to me.

School just wasn’t fun for me. I guess the bullies tended to pick me out because I was different. I don’t think I’ve ever consciously tried to single myself out from the crowd; at least not at school, but somehow the kids just sensed something that compelled them to torment me.

There was one time, back when I was about 10 or 11 that sticks in my mind. I forget all the exact circumstances surrounding the incident, I forget who was involved or what excuse they’d come up with to pick on me, but I do very clearly recall what happened afterwards. I was sitting on the dusty ground at the edge of the tarmacked playground when a girl with blond hair came over to comfort me. I can’t remember everything she said; all I recall specifically was that she mentioned that I had lovely eyes, but her words gave me some solace. I guess, for he first time, I realised that not everybody that I’d meet in the world outside of the safety of my own home would be mean and spiteful.

The first girl I slept with had blond hair and was a year older than me. Draw your own conclusions if you like, but I’m not saying it means anything. Of course I’m not suggesting that it’s meaningless either. All I’ll say is that I’ve always been attracted to blonds.

After I took my Dad’s advice and punched one particularly nasty bully hard in the face, hard enough to make him cry in front of a whole class full of kids, nobody ever bothered me again. From that I learnt to stand  up for myself. Mostly that doesn’t involve violence; just vehemently arguing my point when I know I’m right.

I’ve started to feel like life has an aura of unreality about it. I sometimes wonder whether the things I remember actually really happened or if I just imagined them. That slightly worries me. After all, if I am imagining things then maybe that;s a sign that I’m going crazy. Of course, even if I’m simply imagining that I’m imagining things then that’s not a good sign either.

Anyway, I bring all this up because somebody said something to me the other day, and whilst I think that the conversation probably happened, I can’t be entirely sure. I actually tend to think that a lot when a person shows a degree of insight into my psyche and holds a mirror up to my inner thoughts.

They said that I seemed different to all the others (meaning the other friends of her boyfriend).  Do I really come across as being that different?

Anyway, to return to where this post began, within a few hours of the man riding off on my bike, my laptop suffered another, this time fatal, breakdown. From what I could tell, the graphics card had gone. Repair would  necessitate a complete motherboard swap. Basically it was beyond practical and economic repair. All the remaining working bits are being sold off on eBay as soon as I come back from my latest trip to the Norfolk Broads on Monday. I wonder whether it wasn’t foolish to try and keep it going over the last few months when various parts started to fail. In retrospect I should have given up on it straight away, but yet I struggled to keep it working.

My replacement laptop, a Dell Studio XPS 16 arrives between 1pm and 3pm tomorrow, courtesy of a loan from my Mum. She clearly recognised that I simply couldn’t manage without a proper laptop. Actually, my Mum’s been really nice to me of late, especially after last Monday when I returned home after a night out and burst into tears in front of her for literally no good reason. I guess that emphasised to her the point  that I’m genuinely quite unwell.

She actually apologised to me, quite unnecessarily, for passing on defective  genes to me. Having hereditary predisposition towards depression clearly doesn’t help, but there are certainly other factors at play here, many of which  I’m sure have a lot to do with my personality type. I took the Meyers-Briggs Personality test. The test categorises people into a number of different groups, each of which is represented by a four letter acronym. Apparently I’m an INFP. I shan’t go in to details here about what that means, but I will say that it’s a personality type to which only 1% of the population conform and, from that 1%, a high proportion suffer at some point from depression. I honestly don’t think that I’d have things quite so bad if it wasn’t for the way that other kids had treated me whilst I was growing up. Let’s face it, self-esteem issues are only ever going to exacerbate the problem.

All this is really just building up to me saying that I’ve decided to go back on the anti-depressants.Things were just too tough without them. I kind of feel  like I’ve failed a little, but there really was no other option. Over the last couple of weeks since I started taking them again, I’ve been gradually feeling a little bit better as each day went by. Sure, I don’t feel great; I’m still prone to the occasional emotional outburst (so friends, please bear with me) but I know I’ll get to the point where I can cope with life once more.

Anyway, I’ve got my holiday to enjoy this weekend. I hope to god I don’t blow up or break down at any point during the long weekend, more for my shipmates sake than anything else. It’s almost easier to cope with and accept the effect al this has on me, I just don’t like it where other people have to suffer the consequences of my irrational behaviour.

I’m sure I’ll probably be fine though. Like I said, I’m nowhere near as bad as I was a few weeks ago.

This post has kind of rambled all over the place, but I guess that’s kind of reflective of my shattered mindset.

I have an early (for me anyway) start on Friday, which I’m not looking forward to, especially since it’ll be followed by a three hour drive to Norfolk. My disrupted pill taking has  had the knock on effect of messing with my ability to  sleep at anything like the proper time, so being up and out by 9.30am is going to be somewhat difficult. I’m naturally a night person and depression seems to make me embrace the twilight hours even more fervently.

Still, after waking at the unaturally early hour and the long drive I’ll be able to spend the following few days relaxing and enjoying myself. At least I hope that I will.