More time to write something
I have more time to write now, as I am not facing the imminent prospect of Pete coming up to claim his room for his own (apparently, sleep is one of those things he needs). This is because he is not in, and because I have bought a new wireless card to replace the LAN one that broke. So far it seems to be working OK. I also got a USB 2.0 card, which would be handy to transfer things to and from my iPod. Since Pete’ll have to transfer a huge amount of stuff from his computer to his iPod when he’s got it all back in his library, I’m imagining he’ll want to use it too.
Anyway, today I went up to Durham for a PhD interview. It went OK, but I was rather tired and drained from show-week, so we’ll see how it turns out.
More on show-week:
It was really rather brilliant, and I enjoyed it immensely. The first night was nerve-wracking to say the least, but I made very few mistakes. The entire week saw me with pretty much no free time and not enough sleep, which caused me to be very tired at the aftershow things. At the curry I fell asleep about 7 times, and I spent most of the aftershow party sitting down on my own, which was a bit of a shame.
I’m now left with a bit of a gap in my life, and after all the excitement my mood has inevitably turned somewhat maudlin. I’m feeling the need to be with people, and not a little bit lonely. Trouble is, it’s the sort of loneliness that persists (gets worse, in a sense) in company. And, as always when I’m a little down, it feels like I’ve always felt like this. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons depression is so compelling: it feels realer, like you’re more fully occupying yourself. Trying to be happy is difficult because it feels like a lie and inner-sensory-deprivation. Blah.
To be less abstract and general, sometimes I feel like I’m haunting myself; a small little ghost struggling to fill up a dark and roomy hall. The windows are far away and it’s hard to involve myself with the outside world. It’s far away and always feels a little bit removed from me. And the distance? That’s me, too. It’s like being trapped in a hall of mirrors.
Or, in other words, I am way, way too introverted.
I think that even when I’m being manic, it’s just another form of introversion. It’s like shouting past a wall of noise; you still can’t have a conversation and the effort tires you out so you have to be quiet again for a bit. And the cycle continues. Obvious solution: ahh… I thought I had one just for a second, but it slipped away. One thing does resent itself: I could do with a connection, someone who could meet me halfway and draw me out. Gads. Other people have sex dreams, I dream about girls smiling at me. Hardly seems fair. Oh, and flying. I regularly have dreams where I can levitate a few feet from the ground and zoom down the street. It always ends with me losing control and rising, rising, until… I don’t know, I crash, or fall, something. Anyway, as it is all my history of girls I’ve liked weighs upon me oppressively. It’s like a sore tooth, an open wound. Sorry for being melodramatic… sometimes I just feel like a mass of scar tissue.
Ahhhhh…… I have Arcade Fire (No Cars Go) on at the moment. If that’s not succour for the tragically romantic, I don’t know what is. I’m feeling better already.
I wish I had the capacity to find attractive girls who I don’t find attractive. Yes, that sounds like a ridiculous contradiction, and that is precisely what I’ve said to all those people who have told me I need to lower my standards. The trouble is, either I’m interested in someone or I’m not. Perhaps that is shallow, but what can I do about it? I certainly can’t fake that sort of thing, and one of the reasons my two attempts at online things crashed and burned is that I am honest and anxious to the point of neurosis. I need to feel sincere….
and I’m rambling.
Off to bed I think.
