The Sunday Afternoon Side of Paradise.

The Sunday Afternoon Side of Paradise.
NB. Currently, I am extremely happy and content with life. The following are thoughts that poured out of me unedited whilst feeling slightly hungover, pretentious and bored. Everything is totally fine. Thank You.


I, like a good college student, have been reading. Reading, and thinking. Reading and thinking are very dangerous things for me to do. Very.

I am satisfied when stumbling around shouting abuse at mediocre and oh-so-snobby gig venues having had a couple of under-the-radar beers with friends. Getting a random bird’s number is a fun evenings work, but when combined with the reading it seems insignificant and futile. But not immature; I will not let my actions be coupled with juvenilia, though I swim in my naivety while I can. Our youth is short, fleeting and fragile “disappearing into memory even as we reach for it”. Each new glance brings new doubts and new brick walls between the brain and the hot cotton wool feeling in the stomach. I have shut myself off so much now that I barely feel attraction to anyone. It is a great shame. I used to enjoy putting all my eggs in the basket of a passing smile only to constantly have the contents scrambled on the pavement not a week later. I’d see my hopes dashed by some bearded fool or other with not a single decent line of wit to his name, just because he had convinced her or her that he or he did not have ambition in anything. Perhaps not even a fool, but a doubt in a person’s mind that tells them that in a few days something “better” may come along. We are minds stimulated only by movies and Coca-Cola. Yet, perhaps it is the best approach in many ways.

I told you reading was dangerous. It doesn’t ever solve the problem, thinking. It creates and re-creates the problems of haunting apparitions. And songs, it creates songs too. But what good is a song? An artificial account of an experience we had wished for. It all comes back to “The first bite of the apple”, the Forest and Jenny sat in the tree for hours, Julia and Winston hiding from the telescreens. It is in these moments we find our happiness, and in the moments weeks from them that we lose it dramatically. We ought to be reminded constantly that we do not need anyone. We are perfectly fine as individuals grouped with loyal friends. Reminded that the loss is not our own. It also begs the question, is it okay to simply “Love the one you are with?” Is it right or wrong to do such a thing? I say whatever makes one happy is the best approach; we are only placed on this Earth once, I ere on the side of all guns blazing. I do not see this passage as displaying my weakness, but displaying my honesty. If you find any link to yourself in here then I am glad not to be the only one. If you do not and dislike it, don’t take it out on me, I’m bored and verbose on a Sunday afternoon with no means other than the internet blog to entertain me.

Have a nice day, wherever you are, put the kettle on and revel in the delight of being singular, the freedom to do whatever the hell you want to.

CH