Out across the endless sea....

Bizarrely enough, today whizzed by in a blur of Maths revision. Unfortunately, despite me and Tim's hardcore last minute revision, I still managed to answer a mere three questions out of twenty. Comparatively the English exam was pure ridicule. Although to be honest the grasshopper poem was strangely thought-provoking, and by the end I was actually writing something worth reading (although if you work as an IB examiner you don't deserve to read anything interesting. Ever.) My last sentence was 'This emotional rollercoaster is nothing more than a simple confrontation between two vulnerable creatures, one physically and the other emotionally.' Inarticulately expressed, but with a valid point.
To be honest, reflecting on everything from some sort of 'greater perspective' is tempting as a form of abstract escapism. If I fail my exams, become a hopeless teenage dropout and end up married to a bus driver with seven illegitimate kids living in Billericay, what does it matter? There will still be Third World Debt, AIDs and global warming. Writers will write, religious maniacs will preach, scientists will unfold exciting new discoveries, people will live and die and our chaotic planet will carry on spinning. At the same time this makes me feel completely insignificant and helpless. Perhaps it's only a cheap, irrational reassurance. Perhaps my life is exactly the opposite: perhaps it is more productive, more fufilling to view it as everything, rather than nothing. I could go on to quote Karl Marx, but perhaps I won't. (On second thoughts 'I am nothing and should be everything'. Sorry, couldn't resist. I'd virtually said it anyway.)

Three surreal things have happened to me in the last two days:

• I have started drinking coffee. It tastes completely foul, but gives me an effortless buzz when I need it most (anytime between 11pm and 11am).
• I have started wearing slippers. They are red and comfy. My grandmother gave them to me. I have already become old. Very old. Probably a little too old...
• I have started listening to Nora Jones. I have definitely become old. Although her voice is soothing, sensual. 'Turn Me On' is a damn good song.

On the way home from school I met my friend Darryl. We went to school together two years ago. Back then he was tall and lonesome and talented. He's still tall, but he was on his way home from probation. Shattering really. I asked him what he'd done and he looked so ashamed I instantly felt guilty and tactless. He sort of shrugged and mimed violence.

Strange...

My heart is drenched in wine...
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