That was the term that was.
“The straw that broke the camel’s back”.
I have a feeling this saying will be living with me for some time into the future. My past writ of Self-Revolution 2013 could not have foreseen the monumental river of blood, sweat and tears that has hit me with such veracity. While things have moved forward, I’m losing the drive to recover. Such is the weight and burden of carrying on; the smallest and simplest thing will set me off in a snapping frenzy at people, resulting in asking repeatedly for forgiveness the next day. I felt truly broken just before a drinking marathon last night; it was the last coursework submission of a prolonged and vexing piece of practical lab work written by a lecturer who can only be described as a day-dreamer, sandals ‘n’ socks nerd. The moment that assignment was truly finished, I felt a deep sense of loss, regret and sadness. I had battled so hard to get only two thirds of the way through the first quarter of my degree. A seemingly bottomless pit of stamina used to battle through the bad times of the past was now looking very empty indeed. So here is the term that was without a doubt, a turning point in my life.
Clarity of a Conscience was a plaster on a shark bite. Following the move by radio executives to transfer all rights to the new committee including myself as Assistant Station Manager, was a shock to the system and totally unexpected. These were the founders of how the radio had become and through falling out between myself and other executive-elect, I had guaranteed their disinterest in running and developing the station any further. I was on the verge of tears on a 2 hours Skype call to the only committee member that seems to have a level understanding, and someone who I now know I can trust explicitly. I cannot thank him enough for what he did, sacrificing time when he had so much work himself. The radio presses on, but I feel each day that there’s a dark time approaching if events and roles aren’t organised – and very soon.
The IT Demi-God’s reign of terror had finally come to an end this last week. The passing through of the shared tenancy cancellation had finally happened after much deliberation and delay from the management company; the Demi-God’s flexing of anger towards other people on the faculty had also not gone unnoticed. He is bleeding chips onto the poker table whilst being convinced of himself that he always has the best hand out of anyone, in every deal. This echelon of self-righteousness and arrogance has a short time expectancy. A while back, whilst walking back from an evening out, I happened upon the following reply to a point he made about his pipedreams of doctorates and exaltations:
If you carry on as you are, without considering spending quality time with those that matter and simply living a little, you will no doubt get to the end of the PhD marathon you have set out for yourself, but I tell you this – when you turn round to expect applause and much delight, there will instead be utter silence and a quiet room. You will set out to lose everything for your own.
Sure enough, he has achieved this and more in the short time I’ve been at University looking on in disbelief. It remains to be seen what happens next.
I’m lonely… as much as my closest friends are telling me to stay the course of independence, there is a longing for someone truely close to confide in. I do not suffer fools gladly, I have sacrificed so much to be where I am now, it is so very hard to find friend who are not requiring, and those reading this will hopefully understand the term, “Chasing”. Where the friend needs constant attention to your existence or else they have little to no interest and just carry on. The Demi God was no different towards the end. There are precious few who take the time to genuinely ask how I feel, what I’m up to, and the most precious of questions, whether I would like to join them for a meal, cinema run, a couple of drinks. This endless struggle has me burning the candle at both ends. I, while not looking to sound desperate, must find someone truly able to see my potential of being a genuine human being. There has only been 1 who has so far and he was torn from me. There is potentially others, but it has become that seemingly round-robin game of chasing, catching up, asking out to dinner or drinks, falling back, no replies and so on. I am lucky to have a very supportive family that much I know. I’m truly grateful to those that really do give a damn. I suppose I can cumulate all of this into one point – I’ve not had a day this term where I’ve not felt the entire day has been great. There’s been something, every single day, eating away at my mind, or gets called upon in conversion or letters.
To be loved, truly loved.
Where each other’s company is the unfaltering in breadth, romance and completely unhindered.
Where trips could be taken together anywhere, at any time, for anything and they will always be fun.
How I long for this. I know I can do it, but I’m so very very tired.