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Monthly Archives: January 2015

Film Reviews – Now You See Me and Edge of Tomorrow

I’ve got way too much free time this term. My academic week consists of a three hour seminar on Gothic cinema on a Monday morning, an hour break, then a two hour seminar on Screen Writing, followed by the occasional two hour film show to further our understanding of screenplays.

And that’s it. I’m done for the week.

So I figured, beyond not getting awful grades, there would be two things I would do with my six day weekend. Namely read more and watch all the movies I’ve meant to but never got round to. Some have described me as a film buff or lover, but to be honest, there are tons of big films I’ve never seen. And for a supposed ‘film buff’, that’s kind of shocking. An example: I’ve never seen E.T.

But anyway, rather than starting with E.T., I thought I’d instead focus on the twenty films in my collection that I have yet to watch, starting with Now You See Me.

For those of you who don’t know, Now You See Me is a magic-thriller-heist-revenge-romance-drama. I think. There’s a lot going on.

[Spoilers to follow]

A Lionsgate Film, Directed by Louis Leterrier

Released: 31st May 2013

Starring: Jesse Eisenberg, Isla Fisher, Woody Harrelson, Dave Franco, Mélanie Laurent, Mark Ruffalo, Michael Cain and Morgan Freeman

Review: Now You See Me features four street magicians who band together after receiving a mysterious summons to become a close-knit team of Robin Hood-like criminals. For the majority of the film, neither they nor the audience knows their true purpose, as they supposedly seek to join an age-old society of magicians, whilst seemingly avenging the death of an unseen magician who died some years before.

The film features an impressive cast who all deliver great performances; not the best of their careers, but still thoroughly entertaining and enjoyable. Their chemistry is impressive, and along with the story, keep you guessing as to what the true nature of the story is.

The film offers an impressive visual spectacle to boot. A particular highlight is the fight scene between Dave Franco and Mark Ruffalo, which features Franco’s character hurling several magic tricks into his choreography, to dazzle both Ruffalo and the audience, as this sequence sidelines into an exhilarating car chase.

Unfortunately, after all of this, the film seems to fall flat, as in what seems like an unnecessary twist, Mark Ruffalo is revealed to be the son of the aforementioned magician, whom the main characters are in the process of avenging. As such, it is he who has been instructing the ‘Four Horsemen’ from behind the scenes, having spent years undercover in the FBI as a means to allowing his associates to remain one step ahead of their adversaries.

The twist seems rather empty, by the time you reach the conclusion of the film. The plot seems to be leading towards Ruffalo failing to capture the Four Horsemen, but being fine with his failure, having come to appreciate the beauty of magic and having found love in his Interpol partner. Rather than following through, and perhaps revealing the deceased magician to be alive as has been hinted at throughout the film, the story hurls in a twist that seems to be there just to throw the audience off.

However, as the film continually states, “The closer you think you are, the less you will actually see”, and so I feel I will have to watch the film again to see if the Ruffalo twist is cleverly threaded throughout the story, or whether it is all just a pointless illusion.

However, not wanting to end there (my one hour in university today made 2 o’clock seem like it should have been much later on), I decided to follow through with Edge of Tomorrow.

A Warner Bros. Film, Directed by Doug Liman

Released: 6th June 2014

StarringTom Cruise, Emily Blunt, Bill Paxton and Brendan Gleeson

Review: I had originally doubted the quality of Edge of Tomorrow. Despite being a big Cruise fan, and a lover of Science Fiction, I was worried that the film, like Oblivion (which I did enjoy, but realize wasn’t the best film), would not make true on its promise to dazzle (the magic lingo from Now You See Me has started to infect my brain).

And, straight off the bat of a film that I really did enjoy up until the end, I was worried that Edge of Tomorrow, despite receiving rave reviews, would seem a little flat straight after such a visually appealing flick.

How wrong I was.

Edge of Tomorrow features Cruise as a media officer for the United States army, who is involuntarily drafted into service under command of the British forces. Thrown into combat, Cruise is quickly killed when facing off against an alien invader, whose blood imbues in him the power to ‘reset’ the day after his death. Meeting with Emily Blunt, another soldier who has previously undergone the same process before losing her power, Cruise must find a way to navigate the battle and defeat the alien hordes that have consumed most of Europe.

Although it is a little difficult to believe Cruise as an un-heroic coward at the start of the film, his eventual evolution into a battle-hardened warrior is a fun one to watch. And the no-nonsense Emily Blunt allows us some suspension of disbelief about Cruise’s early portrayal.

The movie is highly entertaining, and watching Cruise try and try again to survive the invasion of France doesn’t get old as one might imagine. Similarly, the aliens are also a delight to behold, staying away from standard alien convention, and adapting the shape-shifter archetype in a fresh new way.

And, unlike Now You See Me, Edge of Tomorrow does have a somewhat satisfying conclusion. I was initially ready to applaud the film for killing off all the main characters as they succeeded in vanquishing the enemy, only to find that Cruise is once more thrown back in time, his victory in tact. It was slightly obvious that something of the sort would happen, and for a moment, it did make my faith in the film waiver. But the final interaction between Cruise, who remembers all the events of ‘tomorrow’, and Blunt who remembers nothing, reaffirmed my belief that Edge of Tomorrow is a great piece of Science Fiction.

Definitely glad I bought this on my birthday.

Now, what to watch next…

 
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Posted by on January 29, 2015 in Film & TV

 

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Test Central

So today I may have had my last ever academic examination. I wasn’t prepared at all.

I mean, I knew the questions, and I knew the answers, but the fact of the matter was that leading up to it I was unfocused and just generally out of it.

The exam was on American Political Development, and I had chosen to do the questions on Affirmative Action and Gun Control. But after returning from Wales, finishing my Doctor Who essay and cramming a terms worth of dissertation preparation into 3/4 days, I just really didn’t care anymore.

I really tried to revise. But I just couldn’t make anything stick. As a result, the first part of the exam seemed to drag, as I didn’t know much beyond the basics of why Affirmative Action should be eliminated. I could give you an answer; it just wouldn’t sound very academic. Gun control was easy though. America loves it’s guns. And you find some interesting pictures when you research gun control. A bit worrying in fact, but that’s just the way it is, and consequently makes things easier to remember.

So that’s over.

But the tests still continue. I went to the doctors the other day, and she gave me a pair of websites called MoodGYM and MOODJUICE; two sites full of little tests and quizzes. I’ve not done much on the latter, but the former so far seems a bit basic. Helpful, but basic. And not as in it’s one of those websites that doesn’t have much information. By basic I mean some of the content seems like it could be aimed at adults, and then a lot seems like it’s aimed at children.

But who am I to judge? It’s useful, and I can’t make a website.

I think it’s just the fact that the ‘characters’ on the website go from normal names to ‘Elle’, to purposefully weird names like ‘Noproblemos’ (he’s the easy going one with no problems; his parents must have been clairvoyant).

But for the most part, the hard stuff is over. I now have six day weekends, and all I have to do in the time between is watch movies, read the novels they’re adapted from and the movie scripts they’re based on. Not going to lie; my course has picked up a lot this year.

And for these next two days…

Braveheart

(Freedom, is what I meant by that. Just in case you couldn’t figure it out. But I’m sure you could. You’re smart people)

 
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Posted by on January 23, 2015 in Life

 

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Plans Lead to Dissappointment

I didn’t really want to get up this morning. Not especially because it was my birthday and wanted a lie in, so much as I had nothing planned and didn’t really see the point.

The thing is, for the past few years, whenever I’ve made plans for my birthday, something as caused them to go wrong, and I’ve been left dissappointed.

For (what I think was) my seventeenth birthday, me and my friend tried to host a joint birthday part somewhere we were told was a great place for a birthday, even if you were underage. However, this turned out to be false, as the guys behind the bar changed their policy on being unsuspicious about identification. Can’t blame them really, I wouldn’t want to lose my job for serving underagers either.
Things began to pick up, as we emptied the venue and headed to our friends house nearby for a house party. The night turned out alright, until a later date when I would learn something about it that would taint the whole occassion.

My eighteenth was ‘so so’. The day was rather uneventful, as most of my longtime friends had become embroiled in a stupid squabble wherein one of their girlfriends had pretty much divided our sixth form group. It was petty, and as a result, although I was still on good terms with them, I didn’t really speak to them all that often anymore. As it would turn out, all of the (what I then deemed) ‘popular kids’ (although the label had become a tad outdated as in sixth form everyone associated with everyone) teamed up under one girls leadership to make me a makeshift card with a load of signatures on it. It made my day; whereas my friends had forgotten, people I only really talked to in passing had come through for me. And of course there was my friend Joel, who never forgets these sorts of occassions; and so that night, me, him and a bunch of other sixth formers went out on the town. It was messy, and although I did have fun, it was hard not to notice all the people I had invited who couldn’t/wouldn’t make it. Although in fairness, some of my (then) underage friends did make an appearance, even if they couldn’t come in the pubs.

Nineteen, I decided, I would tone down on the drinking. All I wanted to do was go to the cinema and then have a chinese with the faily. However, at this stage God decided to have a little joke at my expense:
What with my birthday being relatively close to Christmas, I had always wanted it to snow on my birthday. Year after year, I would be disappointed. And then on my nineteenth, it snowed. But then of course it snowed so much that me and my girlfriend of the time had to turn back from the cinema, only to find that my family had already cooked themselves some food, figuring that the chinese was now off the table since we had departed for the cinema.

So by twenty, I had learnt my lesson: Plan nothing, and then you can’t be disappointed when your plans inevitably failed. It was an alright day. Not especially exciting. I lounged in my room, and then watched Man of Steel with some friends in an evening. Unfortunately, one of my housemates friends showed up at this point, and although I do get on with him; in truth, he’s a bit of a twat, and didn’t stop pointing out all the flaws in a film.
One of the thing that annoys me the most is when people talk non-stop through a film. A humorous observation every half an hour is one thing, but when you exceed that to excessive levels, unless the group is watching it for the sole purpose of critiquing it, it sort of takes away from the movie watching experience.

But despite having learnt my lesson, I figured this year, being my twenty-first, I should once more attempt to do something. After all, this is pretty much the last big landmark birthday until the big five-oh. I considering going to London, but having a birthday right in the centre of exam period sort of limits your travelling possibilities. I considered going out for a meal, but frankly, I don’t realy know who I would go with. I finally settled on getting a tattoo, but I never got round to going to the parlour before hand to find out quotes and discuss ideas with the artist, so that was out the window.

So when I woke up this morning, it was with the same disappointment that had struck me every year previous. I’d even woken up too late to get in and out of the library before ten o’clock.

But refusing to just mope around all day as per, I’ve decided on a change of location. I’ve gone to the Cafe Nero on the corner of the Square in the city centre, with a coffee and a brownie, so I can people-watch and type to my hearts content. In the progress of which, Ive realized my ideal birthday would probably be found on a tropical island or beach or some such. I wouldn’t talk to anyone but the bartender, as I ordered drinks and cocktails and subathed the day away. I did that once when I was in Malia. That was probably the most enjoyable day I had there. Malia is a bit crap, after all.

But anyway, a man can dream. When I win the lottery, I’ll be all over that. But for now, this brownie is pretty fucking good. Here’s a song:

 
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Posted by on January 20, 2015 in Life

 

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What have you done with your lovelife?

As it currently stands, the most prominent love in my life is a branded marriage of plastic and circuitry.

And by that, I mean my new tablet. Not a roboticized sex doll or something weird like that. Because that’s a thing now. Did you know that?
I didn’t, until I looked it up just now for the sake of a joke I was going to make and it derailed my post.
One company is working on a sex-robot with a programmable personality that you can trade with your friends if you’re particularly proud of it (the programme, not the sex doll). Another claims that after purchasing their doll (£4000) you’ll never want a real girlfriend again!

God, it’s horrific. But, if anything, has cheered me up somewhat.

Anyway, as I said, what I was originally alluding to was my new tablet. It’s an early birthday present, and it works like a dream. Even WordPress seems better on it. It just makes everything better. Except my love life, which is in fact the reasoning for this post.

Some time ago, me and one of my housemates were walking home after a night in the club, and he began informing me of a tryst he had had with a girl we know. Although I would forget this in my drunken haze until a flashback at a later date, I congratulated him. It was somewhat obvious that he had had feelings for her, and I was happy to hear that he had secretly made his move. Nothing came of it in the end, but that’s not the point.

More recently, another housemate, who was previously my pick for most likely to come out as asexual, hit it off with a girl in film society. We were all impressed with how well they clicked, and when he returned from his Christmas holiday, it was clear that they had begun some sort of relationship. Rightly so, he refused to divulge any details to us, not that I myself asked, but still.

I found his relationship especially amusing because in the weeks leading up to Christmas, I remember several occassions where me and him sat in the twin couches that occupy our living room and joked about how in our final year, all of our interactions with other people had been in decline, and as such, this trend would lead to us dying alone. “Ohhh” we’d sigh jokingly, in as depressing a tone as we could muster. But although we were joking, my mind would always wander back onto the subject of my love life, or lack thereof.

Each time we jested back and forth, it would again remind me of the various people who would periodically ask me what was new in my world of romance. “Nothing”, I’d always chuckle, and normally that would be the end of it. But more recently, one began to enquire further. She asked me why. I thought about it quickly, and responded that whenever the opportunity presented itself, I would always be too drunk to do anything. I realised immediately that this was definitely the wrong choice of words, as she empathetically gave a questioning gesture hinting at erectile dysfunction; her hand immitating a penis struggling to get erect.

I quelled her suggestion with a story relayed to me by a housemate:

We were at the club, joking around about stupid dancing. I demonstrated one such move, waving my arms about in a ludicrous fashion, and accidentally knocking a drink out of a girls hand. I turned and apologised, offering to buy her a new drink and escorted her to the bar.
From the edge of the dance floor my housemate watched, intrigued, as he later explained that me and this mystery girl were really hitting it off. From his perch at the side of the dance floor, he watched her gesture for me to join her to dance, to which I made some indication that I would be right there, before returning to my friends. Confused, he demanded to know what I was doing, and exclaimed that he would help reunite me with this girl if I was willing. I was, and so he led me down the stairs that he had seen her and her friends depart. Finally, he laid eyes on her, and pointed me in her direction. I stared for a moment, before turning back to him and simply saying “Nah mate, that ain’t her”, before wandering off, completely oblivious to what she looked like, where I was going, or what a mess I was.

As I reitterated to my inquisitive friend; performance wasn’t my issue, so much as drunken idiocy. To this, she responded with her own tale about me and one of her friends. This one I did remember, and wasn’t so much my fault as I had briefly left the group to say goodbye to some friends who were departing to America for the year. Upon returning to where I had left the girls, I found they had disappeared into the club, having thought I had simply abandonned them for the night. These two tales told in quick succession reminded me of several other times where alcohol had denied me romance.

“We just need to stop looking for love and that’s when we’ll find it”, my friend told both me and herself. I chuckled and went to get another drink. Story of my life, that last bit.

Returning now to the present day, I found myself once more in the aforementioned couch conversation. It was now me and the first-mentioned housemate making the same jokes as the one who’d found himself a lady. The depression-filled moans returned, as he asked me where the other half of our quartet was, and I responded that they were both on dates.

And then it hit me; out of the four of us, I’m the only one who hasn’t gone on a date in the past year. The situation is even bleaker than I had feared for these past few months.

But low and behold, as I come to conclude my tale of love and woe, a reply on Tinder doth appear from someone I contacted earlier. Is this the end of the loveless abyss I find myself struggling to be free of?

Probably not.

Taking bets on how quickly I can kill our conversation.

 
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Posted by on January 16, 2015 in Life

 

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If I Won The Lottery Right Now

As I’ve progressed further and further through university, I’ve grown to realise that when I finally do graduate, I have little desire to get a graduate job.

Sometimes when I think about this, I wonder if my whole time here has been pointless. Other times, I argue that if I hadn’t come to University, I wouldn’t have continued to change my life plans until they were where they are at now.

But whichever conclusion I land on, the fact remains that whether I go for a graduate job or not, my main plan to life is to win the lottery.

And this isn’t me just saying I WANT to win the lottery like everyone else. I PLAN to win the lottery. In fact, most of my other life plans are based around it.

Way I figure it, winning the lottery is the best outcome from doing a degree in American Studies; after three or four years of studying a people who built their country around the ‘American Dream’ that encouraged them to pursue a life of freedom and opportunity, what better way to go on than pursuing that dream myself.

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Just imagine that freedom and opportunity you could buy yourself with the £24 million jackpot that’s estimated for this Fridays Euromillion draw.

That’s definitely more money than anyone needs, and unlike some, I wouldn’t object to winning it.

But I digress.

If I won the lottery, I’d play it close to my chest, at least at first. What with my birthday coming up, I’d continue as if nothing had happened for the next two weeks, and get on with work.

On the days surrounding my birthday, I’d have a bit of a shopping binge; until this past year, I realised my clothing choices had grown rather dark and dull, and took to adding some colour to my wardrobe. That quest is still ongoing.

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I’d chuck out all the old shoes I have, and buy different ones for each occasion. With these things, I could easily keep them hidden as well, perhaps only indulging my housemates with my secret millionaire status (and that would mainly be out of necessity).

With my wardrobe successfully updated and my housemates partially in the loop (I would play down how much money I’d actually won), I would go about covering our house costs, and pay off my overdraft, so we wouldn’t have to live with the horribly bleak existence that is life on a student budget. In all these cases, however, I would pay only enough to make things comfortable. I would go for what’s needed over what’s top-of-the-range.

I would get a tattoo, buy some dumbells (which reminds me, I need to cancel my gym membership back in Wales. Oh dear) and perhaps have my teeth whitened. I’ve never been particularly fond of my teeth. Just simple things, that alongside the colourful new clothes would make me feel better about myself.

And then then waiting game would begin. Warning my housemates that I had near exhausted my wealth with the various transactions I had conducted for both mine and their sakes, I would tone down on the spending, put money aside for various reasons, and begin planning a round-the-world trip whilst working towards graduation.

Graduation day would come and go, and I’d try not to go too large during the celebrations, so I could use whatever spare dosh I had saved after paying off my student loan to buy a gift for each of the friends who meant the most of me, and unfortunately were still wracked with debt. Dangerous really, because it could mean by the end of everything I would be hated by everyone I didn’t buy gifts for. “Fuck it, I’m rich!” is what I would declare, as I would start to wonder whether the decisions made with the money had been the right ones up until now. A question for another time.

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With university, friends, and any other attachments shown what they meant to me, I would then wire money to my mother and her boyfriend, my sister, my dad and his kids, before getting on a plane to Europe.

Arriving in Amsterdam, I would do everything I wanted to do last time, but couldn’t on account of being stuck in a smokey haze wandering from coffee shop to coffee shop.

From there, I would perhaps head North, and explore Scandinavia, before heading East, into Russia. Not really sure what I’d do there. Swoon over gorgeous Russian women and get into trouble with the locals, no doubt.

From Russia, I would head deeper into Asia. Milling around China for as long as the Chinese would let me. I would walk the great wall, visit the major cities like Shanghai, Beijing and Hong Kong, and feast like a king. I would explore the Jiuzhaigou Natural Reserve and climb Yellow Mountain, amongst other things.

Other Asian countries would be a must too. With Thailand, Vietnam and Japan being quick stops before I headed for my final destination.

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And then onto the big one. I would have returned to America, the long way round.

After a quick stop in Hawaii, I would spend a bit of time in California, before heading North to Oregon, detouring through Vegas, of course, spending time in Seattle and Portland.

Heading into Canada, I would judge for myself just how friendly Canadians really are. Having met a couple already, and having received invitations to stay from all of them, I feel like it would be a lovely time to recuperate.

Heading back down through the centre of the States, I would move between the smaller towns, where I would allow myself the chance to wear my Stetson on a regular basis, and assure myself that no one was judging me.

Next, I would head to New Orleans. Hopefully, Mardi Gras would not be too far away, but by now my funds would be considerably diminished, and so I wouldn’t complain whatever the situation.

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“Dump ’em out!”

As a Brit, I really don’t see how yelling that at women works out well.

But whatever. ‘murica.

From there on, I would be on the last legs of my journey. I would head to the Big Apple, stopping in the nations capital, because it would be silly not too really. Once in NYC, I would spend the last of my funds; becoming homeless and living on the streets of New York.

Becoming a drug-riddled mess, I would eventually leave my new street-faring brethren and barter passage to Iceland, where I would hope to catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights before the debt, enemies and mistreatment of my body caught up with me.

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I would survive; a changed man. Begging my mother to pay for my trip back to Wales, I would wallow in a pit of despair as I found out that in my absence, my friends had grown hateful of me; their hatred stoked by those I forgot to buy gifts for.

Desperate, I would pray to the Dude, Thor and Santa for a way to make things right, and in their divine wisdom, they would allow me to win the lottery again. I mean, if I can do it once, why not twice, right?

Imagine reading my autobiography after that. It would be amazing.

Other side purchases would include a new phone after I inevitably break this one, and dance classes, so I would have slick moves to match my wardrobe.

 
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Posted by on January 7, 2015 in Life, Travelling

 

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New Years Detox

When you’re drunk, your true emotions and feelings seem like they’ve been highlighted, so although I was still a little bit drunk when I wrote the first draft of this, most of its words rang true.

I’d been thinking up several witty lines to start off my first entry of the year, but I’ve either forgotten all of them or they’ve become obsolete due to the time that has passed.

But alas; I’m going for it anyway. A summary of everything Stéphane Emrys Moungabio related flowing through my mind as I go into the New Year, with as much potency as it can reflect going into the New Year, a Stephanalysis, if you will:

So I just got back to Leicester earlier, which I’ve been referring to as home the entire time I’ve been in Wales. Truth is, whichever house I’m in, I refer to the other as home. Last year, it was because I didn’t feel comfortable in either space. I’ve warmed up to both now, but it’s still a habit.

I think it may also be because I get bored of places pretty quickly. A few days is enough for me. It’s partly why I want to be a travel writer. I want to remain on the move at all times. As such, my favourite things reflect that goal. I bought a Stetson at Monument Valley which cost me about $96.35. It’s my most prized possession, and although I don’t wear it all that much (cowboy hats in North Wales is a trend that has yet to truly catch on) I would honestly be distraught if anything happened to it. In fact, I don’t really like anyone touching it because I’m doubtful of how well crafted it is.

Along with the hat, my favourite songs are ‘Down in the Valley’ by The Head and the Heart:

and ‘Home’ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes:

because they remind me of the best weeks of my life, and it pains me a little bit when I think of it because I miss it that much. Ridiculous really; it was just a holiday.

My other favourite songs are ‘Rather Be’ by Clean Bandit and Jess Glynne, who I’m a little bit in love with:

‘Try a Little Tenderness’ by Otis Redding:

and probably ‘Suspicious Minds’ by Elvis Presley:

These three songs cheer me up no matter what mood I’m in.

I also love watching films; particularly Science Fiction and Fantasy; because they are so far removed from the real world. My favourite pastime is going to the cinema. I enjoy nothing more than just sitting in the darkness for a few hours, giving my all to whatever magical story is placed in front of me and forgetting everything that is going on in the outside world.

Because the real world seems harsh and unforgiving. Despite that, I do believe that everything works itself out in the end. It’s why, although I joke about it, I believe in Dudeism. The whole idea agrees with me, and my belief in it has really taught me why spirituality is so important to people around the world.

In fact, my mum suggested I do something special for my 21st, so I’m considering getting the Dudeist symbol tattooed on my arm, because to me, it would be a constant reminder of spirituality, my belief that everything will sort itself out, and that there is no point getting worked up over the smaller things.

She doesn’t know about those meanings, so that idea she doesn’t agree with so much; she doesn’t like tattoos, and knows getting a tattoo somewhere in sight will limit my employment opportunities. But for the aforementioned reasons, I don’t want a prestigious job where appearance is key. Something of that ‘importance’ wouldn’t suit me. As I previously mentioned, I want to be a writer, or a fireman, because I admire that profession. I think I would be happiest just moving from job to job, place to place, in small town America, and writing about my experiences.

It would be difficult though, because it would mean leaving my friends behind for large amounts of time. And I mean really difficult, because I love my friends. They’re the best people in the world. They put up with my stupidity on a continuous basis, and I really appreciate it.

My family are also really important to me. I was honest a couple of hours ago when I told my sister I was really going to miss her going back to University. Especially when I asked who I was going to annoy without her around, and we both named one of my housemates in unison and shared a laugh.

Likewise, my mother is one of the people closest to me. Like my friends, she continuously puts up with my shit, but supports me nonetheless. I probably don’t tell her how much I appreciate it enough, if at all. I should probably start (although she has this blog in her bookmarks, so she’ll be reading this soon enough).

Unfortunately, my family isn’t what it once was, as around Easter of 2013, in one fortnight, I broke up with my last girlfriend, my dog/best bud Raggs was put down and my grandmother passed due to a blunder by a trainee doctor. As such, I don’t trust doctors as much as I used to. There are other reasons, obviously, and I acknowledge there are good doctors out there, but that’s a post for another time.

The world is a lesser place without my gran in it. Her name was Nina Dawson. She was a teacher who took in people that had no place to go. And everyone loved her. One of my biggest regrets is the fact that I didn’t spend enough time with her before she died. In truth, I neglected her a bit, and it was only when I was holding her hand in the hospital, as she looked at me, seemingly oblivious to my identity due to her condition, that I really realised what a mistake I had made.

In my family, besides my mum, my gran was always the one I felt the most connected to, and the fact that she’d seemed to forget me was one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life.

That’s not my only regret, obviously. I’d like to sing Sinatra on my deathbed, but saying I have “Too few [regrets] to mention” would be a huge lie.

But my other primary regret would be the way I’ve made a blunder of my love life mostly due to excessive alcohol consumption. I know everyone my age drinks a lot, and I’m not bothered about that. I just wish I hadn’t ruined my chances with some of the people who, outside of my family, meant the most to me. There is one girl in particular. We have a weird relationship. She’s a close friend of mine, and I care about her a lot. But she made the right decision not going out with me. I made a lot of mistakes, and there’s nothing that can change that. I’m careless. I’m not as smart as people think; I’m just generally a bit of a mess, especially when you review my love life and my phone history.

But reviewing it only gets you half the story, no one knows my faults as well as I do; no one really knows about the cocktail of poor self-esteem, loneliness and general self-loathing that constantly resides in my mind. But if we’re honest, my problems are pretty minor in the grand scheme of things. I acknowledge that people suffer a lot more than me, and I count myself lucky for the privileged life I lead.

As I said before: Dudeism. What will be will be. Life goes on. Things will sort themselves out. No point complaining about it.

In truth, I wasn’t sure if I would post this. When I started writing, it was a means of sobering up and killing time in a long car journey. But I figure I might as well. I get all of this out there, and I’ve done my confessions for the year. In truth I hate telling people stuff about my feelings and all that crap. My friend used to describe me as being a brick wall when it came to emotion, and in truth I was a bit better off that way. But once you open the floodgates…

So yeah. I think that’s everything. Other important points would be that I fucking love anything Ke$ha or pug related.

I’m also digging Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars’ new music video ‘Uptown Funk’:

The song is a bit worn on me now, but the styles and the choreography are beautiful. If I turn out to be half as swish as those gentlemen, I’ll be a happy man indeed! Also loving James Blunt’s most recent album. But I digress. If you want to read about that (although I doubt it), there’s a post on James a month or two back.

But there we go. I’ll be back soon enough with my resolutions; I don’t actually make mine until my birthday. New year for me and all that.

So here’s to twenty fifteen, and my goal of going back to America, the long way round.

 
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Posted by on January 4, 2015 in Life, Travelling

 

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