The Fruit of a Bored and Slightly Annoyed Mind

Well, in my boredom it appears I've done it again.

They're funny things, emotions,
For how they make us feel,
From quivering scared like jelly,
To having nerves of steel.

And when I think about them,
The ones I have for you,
I often feel confusion,
As I'd like to lose a few.

The meaningless devotion,
The care gone unreturned,
I see no sense in feeling this,
The love you often spurned.

Yet here I sit, a failure,
Lacking a way to change,
Just quite what you mean to me,
But then, the heart is strange.

It's clear, from all your actions,
The face you choose to show,
That "Do you feel this for me too?",
Would yield the answer "No".

I know I often can't compare,
To others you call friends,
They're far more fun and genial,
And so our friendship "ends".

'Cause so long as it's not effort,
There's nowhere else you'd rather be,
It's then that you pretend to care,
And be civil towards me.

But now I want no more of it,
These thoughts of trust and care,
Because I'm sure you'd much prefer,
That I was never there.

The thing that's really sad, though,
The thing I think is rare,
Is that for all my bluster,
I think I'll always care.

A Brief Sigh Of Relief

Well the week is almost up, and with it's passing also goes the two exams I had to pass to ensure I progress to the next year of my degree. For the first time in my history at Sheffield University, I actually put some time in on these damn things. I've also been suffering exam jitters for the first time since way back in the day when I took SATs in like year 2. I realised that, pretty much, most of the exams I'd end up taking throughout my primary and secondary school education wouldn't really amount to much. I was never this nervous about my A-Levels - and they weren't particularly bad. But then, I wonder perhaps that had I put a proportionate amount of effort into the A-level work I did most poorly on would I have gotten the same jittery feeling I got today. I suppose the fact I got the nerves, and as a result slept pretty damn badly both nights before the exams, is in part because this time I've actually worked. Perhaps it's the feeling that, despite powering through the best part of a 200-leaf Pukka Pad in order to answer assorted questions on quantum mechanics, special relativity and atomic spectra, all the work isn't going to pay off. I suppose there's always that fear that we'll try something, and we'll fail. I wonder what the percentages would read if we tallied up all the people who, upon trying and failing then went on to try again and those who went on to quit. Perhaps there's an expectation value in there somewhere, hehe.

Still, since the exams I had to work for are now gone leaving only "Topics In Classical Physics" which really doesn't appear to be necessary for anything anymore I'm kicking back with a nice cold one and listening to tunes and appreciating the fact that it's gloriously sunny outside and I'm not sneezing like a bastard. The only downside to the whole sunshine thing is the wasps and other stingy insects, but so far they don't seem to be finding me that attractive a target. Which is quite nice. I'm not usually one who drinks by himself, since I find it analogous to the miserable old git I'll inevitably become as I age going and sitting in the local every afternoon spending whatever the idea of a pension has become by the time I'm that old on bitter and the company of likewise miserable gits. That said, there's not really anything I can do about the lack of company, so I'll enjoy me drinkies regardless and put the images of lil' old me to one side for now.

Now that, essentially, the bulk of my work for getting through to third year is finished I've been contemplating a few things. Mostly I've been thinking that, perhaps it might be beneficial for me to go back over everything from the past year before September and try and get a handle on it better than I presently do. I figure that, for the pre-requisite courses anyway, this might make the work in 3rd year turn out to be a little bit easier. I think, also, that I might have finally learnt my lesson. For all my motivational problems, something got me to work for weeks on passing what was quite possibly the most confusing course I've ever taken. I sincerely hope it paid off. It would be quite ironic, and most unfortunate I suspect, for me to finally realise that I'm not a fuckwit but that I just need to apply myself only for my university career to come to an abrupt end. The lesson would still be learnt, I suppose, the application would just be different to what I imagined. The alternative is to be positive about the resits, and perhaps spend some time going over the early lectures for next year with this year's notes to hand if anything seems unfamiliar. The one thing I do know is that next year I can't afford to be so disaffected with the work. There isn't the 30% before you sit the exam safety net in the form of homework and problems classes that there was for this year. I suppose, in a sense, that doesn't affect me since I never particularly enjoyed the problems classes or tutorials - small group work generally isn't my thing, unless it's on something I'm particularly confident of my knowledge of. So far, I've spent most of my time at university finding myself intellectually inferior to others in the year - so I've been a bit shy about asking for help or anything like that.

In other news, I've bought some new shoes and that. I'll try and attach a photo of the pair I'm currently wearing, they're very comfy as I've come to expect from Vans. I s'pose I should really find a few more manufacturers that make comfy shoes for UK size 12 feet. Anywho, I dunno quite how the photos function works on here... On some other sites there's a tag you can put in to put the image in a certain place. Oh well.

That's all for this entry, I think. TTFN.

The future is never certain, but history is cast in stone

Things have been quite eventful since the last time I wrote on here. I'm currently sat back at home, away from uni and Sheffield for a bit, though I do have to return in short order for the resit period. Hopefully things will go my way, all depends on whether or not I put enough work in. I suppose really instead of writing this, I should be working but I do need a break.

The most interesting thing to mention, I suppose, was my recent visit to Drayton Manor. I have to stress that, as a small child, I recall going on some rides elsewhere and not particularly enjoying them and the drive to try them again never really got here. In some ways, the willingness to get back on theme park rides was and wasn't there on Sunday. I suppose I would like not to be that weirdo who doesn't like rollercoasters and all the other glorious machinery designed to make your insides do strange things, but yet just contemplating getting on some of them made me feel ill inside. I do, in some ways, regret that on the day I didn't "man the f*ck up" and summon up the balls to go on more stuff - especially since just before we left, I was somewhat reluctantly put on a ride called Maelstrom. It was essentially a big pendulum which had a swing through about 180 degrees at full height. I avoided going on it 'cause I was, in essence, disillusioned with what it would be like based on experiences of other things. The fact of the matter was that, once I got over my nerves and it got to the point where there was no way I was getting off, the ride was actually somewhat fun. I actually laughed while I was on it, though Nikki commented after it'd finished that she wasn't sure if I was laughing or crying. I would've liked to have gone on again, had time allowed, so in some ways I wished I hadn't chickened out the previous times my company had gone on it. That said, I suppose I could look at it as dipping my toes in the great pool of theme park rides - and the fact that I kinda liked it perhaps means there's still hope for me yet. Might take some time, but I reckon I might eventually get over my "fear" of theme park rides.

On a slightly more personal note, I believe that I'm well and truly on the mend. Whatever ailment has been irritating my body for the past few weeks seems to have given up and be on it's way out, since I'm feeling more alert, my appetite is returning and my coughing is much less frequent and less violent. Some of you may think, based on the symptoms that I've just described, that I've had swine flu - I don't think that was the case. Having suffered from seasonal flu, I know what flu feels like, and this was nowhere near that bad. Plus, swine flu is meant to be this immensely contagious infection which spreads from person to person like wildfire - none of my family are ill. We'll see how things go over the next few days, I reckon, but for now I'm feeling better!

I've also, through the work I've been doing, become somewhat fond of quantum mechanics. The module originally drove me up the wall, thanks to an incompetent lecturer and a support system I don't particularly enjoy. Now, thanks to a combination of textbooks, old lecture notes, wikipedia and a book which explains things in clear English, I've improved my understanding of the parts of it I'm supposed to know (well, parts of the parts I'm supposed to know) and it's not as bad as you'd think. Which amused me, since I found my UCAS personal statement a while back and re-read what I wrote. Back when I applied to university, the physics I said I enjoyed most were nuclear and particle physics - which I still have quite the fondness for, even if some people have demonstrated that in some respects I know very little about them - and quantum physics. It's strange how confusion and misunderstanding of a subject can sometimes cloud the fondness you once had for it. Oddly, now, as I gradually churn through the work and learn what I need, I'm rediscovering the fondness I had for physics back at college. Most notably in one of the fields that, when it was lectured to me I despised it, yet when it's delivered in a slightly haphazard yet intelligible manner it's perfectly lovely.

Whilst I was writing this, my internet connection died. It's an irritating occurrence that happens at about the same time every day. Our ISP keeps telling us that it's an incorrect setting on the router, yet when we ask what they should be we get the verbal equivalent of a shrug and a polite equivalent to it's not their hardware. It gets a bit annoying, but it can be quickly remedied by forcibly resetting both the modem and the router at the same time. Gets the internet back up for us quite sharpish, much quicker in fact than waiting for the problem to resolve itself which it generally does in the space of about 15 minutes. Not particularly useful getting booted off MSN though.

I find it quite amusing that I continue to post here, when I suspect that hardly anyone reads what I write. I suppose not much of it is of use or interest to anyone, the inane prattlings of a student with little better to do.

I shall leave it there, and I'm now off to shock the Internet connection back into correct operation. :)

It's All About The Spiral

Well this brings us in line for the current running tradition of 3 blog entries a month, which I suppose is kind of a good thing for me since it means I'm not sitting here every day trying to churn out some rubbish, but I'm instead only really writing when there's something to say. I remember back when I got my first ever blog, I updated pretty much every day. I also remember a friend of mine commenting that, on the occasions I offered up via my blog my opinions and thoughts on things that I wrote in a similar manner to Jezza Clarkson. I'm still slightly split on whether or not that's a good thing.

This weekend, my family and I went over to a little village in Lincolnshire for my cousin's wedding. It was quite a nice weekend, really. The hotel we stayed in, and where the reception was after the service, was great - nice rooms, decent size bathroom, nicely decorated and with appropriate tea and coffee making facilities - and looked like they'd pretty much just sculpted some gaps out of the woodland around the building. The golf course was beautiful, though all I saw was the view down the first fairway of one of the courses since I didn't actually go out and play, but it made for a fairly spectacular surrounding for the sports bar. The service was brief, but lovely. I didn't have to make too much of an arse of myself by singing hymns, since there were only two, and there weren't too many prayers or other uber religious stuff. In all, quite a nice weekend and I wasn't feeling too rough for most of it which is a bonus. I do hope that my cousin, and her new husband, have a very happy life together. :)

That brings me to the topic of me being ill, which for the past week or so I have been. Nothing too serious, I don't think, as I'm not dead or in hospital yet. I did go and see a doctor, since I don't like to take too many chances with my health, but right now I'm feeling pretty healthy - aside from a bit of a cough. Perhaps you're wondering if my immediate reaction was "oh shit, it's swine flu!" when I started feeling like crap. Well, it crossed my mind, but the truth of the matter is I'm not bothered about swine flu. So far it's proving no more deadly than regular influenza, the only difference is that it's a new strain so we don't know what it will do. Once we hit flu season in this country, things might change. Until then, I'll stick to my current policy of not being too fussed.

Also, thanks to 106.1 ROCK RADIO which is a local station broadcasting in Manchester, I've been introduced to a Van Halen track I'd never heard before - Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love - which I think has got one hell of a catchy riff in it and which I can't seem to stop listening to. It's awesome! Nothing too complicated, as far as I can tell from listening to it, but it sounds killer - which I think we'd all expect from EVH. :)

That's all for this one. TTFN.

Such Lovely Weather

Well, for any of you not in the immediate Sheffield area, the weather the past few days has been pretty abysmal. Rain, rain, rain; it's all we've had. Though, despite all the complaining that the good ol' British public do about the rain, I quite like it. More specifically, I like being out in it when it's warm. I'm not quite sure what it is about it, but there's something about walking around in the pouring rain that makes me feel better. I dunno if, perhaps, it's something I could express in a slightly abstract way - say, for instance, that the rain kinda washes my problems away, if only temporarily. But, as I did a little while back when it was gloriously warm and it rained, I took some time to wander around aimlessly in the rain and for that time I didn't really care about much.

That said, the weather does somewhat reflect my mood at the moment. I think, currently, I'm not feeling that down about much but I'm not exactly the most cheery person going. There's a few things still bugging me, that are making me feel a bit sad, but they aren't things I'm going to go into here and they're ones I'll have to try and sort out myself. I have, however, made a few realisations about myself though. For instance, I rediscovered the joy of 2-tone ska thanks to Last.fm suggesting that people who like Madness might also like Bad Manners and The Specials. I think that's kinda always been one of my favourite sorts of music, though I lost sight of that a bit by trying to fit in with the metal crowd. Don't get me wrong, I still like metal, but I just reminded myself that I also really like ska. Also quite fond of ska-influenced bands, like Less Than Jake or Rancid. Awesome.

As hesitant as I am to say it, I think I might be coming to terms somewhat with a few of the things that have been haunting me of late. Sure, the skeleton's haven't been completely removed from the proverbial closet and given a proper burial yet, but I think we've got at least to the point of opening the door. Might be a while before I notice any marked improvement, but it's something to work for. Something I hope I can achieve, really. Going back to music, I've noticed that I have actually since downloading iTunes been living up to my statement of "eclectic" musical taste. It's gotten to the point where I'm acquiring larger amounts of tunes that most people wouldn't have associated with me at all, but it comes back somewhat to the fact that at heart I'll listen to anything I think is worth listening to. That still doesn't include jazz, I'm afraid. I definitely think that, at some point, I put a bit too much emphasis on liking what others liked and not running with my own opinion. Hopefully that's something I can reverse.

Sitting here now, and thinking with a somewhat upbeat dance backing track, I'm beginning to see what I never thought I'd see. Myself, at least partially. I'm slowly but surely making an effort to shake off the shadow of all that's bothered me, and try and concentrate more on what makes me happy rather than what I think others *should* like. With hindsight, there's a few things that I would actually change about my life if I could, but alas such an event is never going to happen so I don't see any point in harbouring regrets over things. I think, from here on in, I should make more effort to ignore the well established voices in my head and instead listen to the voices of the people I'm friends with - the ones who, so far as I can tell, are actually speaking the truth.

Time for a change

It's been a few days since I last wrote anything here, so I figured it was time for an update. Most likely because this is something to do, and because by doing it I can further avoid unpacking and trying to find a home for all my stuff.

Which brings me nicely on to the topic of the new house. Yes, those of you who come by on a regular basis will know that as of the 30th of June I'd no longer be living in the house I had. I am now slightly further up the hill, living with a good friend of mine and his existing housemates. Some more friends of ours are moving in next door shortly, so there's gonna be some funnage there.

In other news, I've decided that I should probably make an effort to try and pass things and try and get into 3rd year. To this end, I've loaned a few books from the information commons and they include such joy as Mary L Boas' "Mathematical Methods in the Physical Sciences". Seems like a wonderful book, chock full of all sorts of lovely maths. Still, if it helps improve my grades a little next year then it'll be worth it.

Not much of note has happened since the last ranting episode, and I'm not really feeling like I should channel anything into this blog, so it's a brief visit today. More hell might be unleashed at a later date, though.

TTFN.

...and the dirt still stains me...

It's quite funny, a lot of what I do. I've been talking to someone on MSN for a while, and despite everything I wrote on here between 2 and 3 am this morning, I've already lost sight of so much of it. Evidently I underestimated just quite how much effort I'm going to have to put into sorting my head out.

So, I still haven't been able to accurately recall the quote I was searching for this morning. Whilst I may have found 3 other good ones, none of them seem quite so appropriate as this one particular quote is. I'm so definitely sure that it's an Albert Camus quote, or perhaps someone closely associated with Camus, since when it was originally cited to me the discussion had just mentioned him. It truly was a spectacular quote, an absolutely fantastic statement about self-pity and just how vile an emotion it is. It sums up pretty much everything about my current situation perfectly, far better than I ever could.

I'm also finding more and more often that, despite having a lot of it, I'm not enjoying listening to the music I've grown so fond of any more. Whether that has anything to do with the fact that, at the moment, I'm feeling very apathetic about a lot of things I don't know. A lot of the music I have sat in the library of iTunes doesn't really do much to make me feel any better. The odd track of stuff like MGMT and Keane I have here, though, with the "lighter" music for want of a better description seems to do much more for my mood than such metallic glory as Metallica or Dragonforce.

Which brings me on to the topic that seems to be underpinning pretty much everything I'm thinking about right now, and mostly what is behind a lot of what I write on here. The issue of who, exactly, I am. Who is this person, sat at a computer screen talking about the issues in his life? What do I like, where am I going in life, what do I want from it? Genuinely, I can't answer some of those questions. I came to university with no absolute direction, I still don't really have one. Partially I think this is because of the issues I'm still trying to solve; that I don't think I'm capable of any significant original contribution to the field I'm studying, or that I'm not worth anything as a scientist (or a person for that matter). Yet, at the same time, I don't know entirely what a physics degree - should I get one - would really allow me to go on and do.

So, I got to thinking about why I actually came to university. What helped, was that I found the personal statement I wrote for my application to UCAS. I think I very much lost sight of why I came here, I got too bogged down in everthing that coming to university exposed me to. Before coming here, I was very much a closed off person. I had a small group of friends, and by that I mean I knew a few people well enough to not feel uncomfortable around them and whom I felt I could talk to about things. Then I came to Sheffield. I was no longer surrounded by familiar faces, or by situations I could easily escape from. To be fair, I think I owe quite a debt of gratitude to some of the people I first met at university. Some of the first people I ever spoke to, and some of the first friends I made here, were international students. People who'd not just left their hometown, but had come to an entirely different country to get a degree. And, in all honesty, if I had to make a claim as to who I thought were friendlier - the internationals or the home students - I'd go with the internationals any day. I'm still good friends with a few of them, they're fantastic people. Whereas some of the home students I've met did nothing but remind me of what I thought I'd left behind once I left college. It's remarkable that, no matter what level of education you're in, there's still arseholes. My high school had a lot of them, and college had surprisingly more than I anticipated. I never thought so many people whose life seemed to involve nothing but drink, drugs and sex would've gone to college. Yet, perhaps that just shows how naive I was about the world, 'cause university students seem to predominantly be the people I tried to avoid. Ask anyone what they think students do, and their answer will probably be some combination of drink, drugs and sex.

I've digressed somewhat, and I'm not accurately representing in my statement the people I've made friends with at university. Granted, some of the people I know at university do seem to do very little except go out, get drunk/high/laid or any combination of them at once. But then, I know people who don't. The people who, for all intents and purposes, I suppose I could refer to as an island of morality. And I think I'm lucky, in some respects, that I have friends who fall under both categories. I know people who I can go out with, and have a laugh with - and no, before you go there I don't do drugs. Yet, when I need a quiet cuppa and someone to talk to, I know I've got friends for that too. I don't think I've quite yet shifted my opinion on drugs, to be honest. When I came to uni, I abhorred them - and, to some extent, I abhorred the people who took them. I pitied them, for being so callous as to risk throwing their life away just so they could go get high in a club toilet. Perhaps at some point, I might write another entry so I can try and make sense of my attitude towards drugs. I think if I ever do, it's probably going to have somewhere at the top a warning that it's probably not suitable for most people to read.

Part of what got me so confused, though, is that coming to university challenged so much of what I thought - and, as such, challenged how I was as a person. I came to Sheffield with all the opinions, thoughts and views that made me who I was. Perhaps, the fact that they were so wrong shows I was naive and stupid. Perhaps that goes to show they were never my opinions to begin with. As the Albert Camus quote said in my previous entry, we can't be happy with ourselves if all we're concerned about is the happiness of others. When I look back, I find many an occasion where I've not actually gone along with how I felt, but I've instead gone with another opinion. I don't know why. I don't, right now, feel that much compulsion to be another sheep in the herd. And yet I'm not happy with myself. I'm not happy because, ever since high school, I've seen everything go well for people who were nothing like me. The people who, instead of giving a damn about their education and their health went out and purposefully did the opposite. For years, all I saw was a society where individualism was to be discouraged. Where being something other than the type of person peddled by the popular media was a flaw, a mistake on your part.

So now I've been here for three years, and I've managed to wrangle with a few of my flawed opinions. I'm no longer so mindlessly anti-drugs. I don't see the point in criminalising some of them - and when I say this, I predominantly mean cannabis. That's another thing for another time. I won't ever willfully take the majority of illegal stuff - you'll never find me with a needle full of heroin, or snorting coke - but I'm not so blind as to immediately and blindly jump to the defence of the government and start spouting that they're all illegal for a reason any more.

To be fair, I think a lot of what I need to try and do is sort out what it is that I think. I need to spend more time saying damn it all to hell when it comes to other people's opinions and make up my own. I don't think that entirely failing to care for other people's thoughts when it comes to me would ever be productive - if anything I think not caring at all could swing me right to the other end of the spectrum - but perhaps I need to find a middle ground between caring what others think of me and caring what I think about myself.

I've gone all over the place in this entry, partially because I think there's so much floating around in my head that it's hard to think of one thing without invariably wandering into another topic. But, I hope that one day I'll be able to write an entry knowing more about who I am. That the day will eventually come where I can sit here, read back through these and feel content in the knowledge that I'm not this person any more. This sham facade of what I think others wanted me to be. Instead, I hope eventually I'll be what I want to be... and hopefully that person won't be hated by others.