Typety Typety Hitchcock Coursework Typety Type.

I would recommend not viewing the film 'Rear Widow' by Alfred Hitcock.

Definitely not what I wanted.

Anosmia

Firstly, thank you Ruth for following/stalking my blog. I think you made it a bit uneasy though, maybe drop the nightvision goggles? I clicked follow on yours a while back now, but I think I must've clicked cancel instead of ok. Thats because I'm cool, see.

Ok so this is the part where I say something interesting.

It probably sucks to have anosmia (I say probably because yes - I do have it, but no - I don't know what its like to not have it), but I suppose it does suck, having to live in mystery of what things smell like. Maybe it's contributed to who I am today. I've always thought upbringing is suer important in who you become, and its little things like that which do the trick. Anyway its pretty okay.

I'm lucky really, only losing smell/some taste. Could be worse. Could be much worse! If you're interested in a theory, I have a pretty cool one which sounds like its straight out of a comicbook.

How do I format this so its like I'm telling an anecdote at a bar... how about this?

"So it was 19 years ago, pretty much to the day, and my Mum and Dad went to the hospital so that she could have one of the biggest X-Rays ever. If there was like, a chart of X-Rays and the strengths they are, this would be at the top. Or maybe the bottom, depending on how they were sorted. Could be in the middle if its alphabetised. So they both go on in, and she has the X-Ray, that big one, and they get the results back soon enough, and they get called into this room thing. I don't really know, I wasn't there at the time. Well actually I was. This is from memory. So yeah I'm a foetus. Anyway, they asked them both 'were you expecting some awesome kind of baby called future jamie?' and they were all like 'nah blud' and the Doctors were like 'truth dawg'. And then there was this silence. 'What do we do?' Abortion was their only answer 'Fuck that we ain't getting sued for this shit' I remember the Doctors being so helpful. But basically, if I wasn't disabled or some shit, I'd be dead from childhood leukemia before I was 10. I don't blame them, I'm just glad they were arrogant enough for my parents to ignor what they had to say. Sure I was an accident, but I'm glad I lived to tell the tale. And that is my tale.

With the scars to prove it."

Great now I can't get out of blockquote. Well thats it, one day my foetus might tell you part 2, which may be linked to part one! Not even I know for sure!

I've been up here all night thinking about this, thinking about my destiny.

I stayed up last night. Just thinking. Trying to fix this, trying to win back some mental normality on this situation I've found myself in.

I know everyone has problems, and I'm not usually one to moan, because I equally know that a lot of the time, problems aren't really problems at all, they're just teenage hormones making something out of nothing, making people think 'I'm the only one, no one has it as bad as me'. I know I could never be like that, but nevertheless, this is a problem. This is one of those problems which is a problem. Please forgive me if I moan.

So I thought, last night. It lead to me being very... not ok. I'm never not ok. In fact, look at me, I can barely even bring myself to say how I was feeling, let alone talk about why. But anyway, suffice to say that it was unsettling, so I stayed up until I sorted myself out, because I'm better than that.

I kind of stopped when I imagined what it'd be like in hindsight, looking back from when this is all over and then I suddenly realised that maybe I should listen to all the advice I given to other people. So I did.

And for your information I am a fucking genius.

Even if I did get myself into this mess in the first place. I shall reap what I have sown.
I will be forever haunted by myself, telling me to man it the fuck out.


p.s. I want to tell you everything.

Smalltalk is a fickle bitch

Dear pedestrians,

I want to just talk and talk and talk, but it'd be weird, and there aren't many people who actually want to hear anything other than 'yeah I'm good thanks', and only ask to look like they care, to try and make some sort of conversation in an otherwise dry rendezvous. What if its a lie? What if you're not good? If you say something like 'been better' or 'no', they maybe ask why, and maybe the thought 'what an emo' pops into their head. Then you'd have to tell them, but what if its something you don't think they should hear? What if you know how devistating it might be if they hear. Or... are you just being big-headed? 'aw its nothing really!' Saved - you got off lightly, and the worst they think of you is that you're a little depressed or moany. I guess I've never been a fan of smalltalk, but I've stayed loyal to it all these years. Why? Because its easy. People don't like difficult, people are lazy by default. So society gets what society made - a homogenous, dull, unified average. Just because its easier. I guess I've always been one for smalltalk and bottling it up, but I have good reasons, and they're not just laziness! One day you will all find out, hopefully not in the worst way. I will discuss this in another blog, but I'd love to stay fairly ambiguous.

I think too much, but can you blame me?

Je suis un monstre

What have I become.

I don't care about anything.

Sympathy, no.

Empathy, definatly not.

This is of my own doing.