“Thanks for checking out my post, mates. I’m going to make it a goal to at least post on this blog every other week, if not every week. I’m possibly going to make a regular day every week and get into a routine as writing on this blog really is fun for me, and I have about 10 draft posts saved with things I want to talk about and are just waiting to be written out. So, let’s see if I can stick to my word now that it’s out there.”
-Me, January, 2018
4 months later…
So, hey. I guess that plan wasn’t exactly stuck to.
As a creative writing university student facing my 3rd year special project, I knew that I needed to pick something that I would feel enthusiasm and dedication towards. Something that wouldn’t bore me or be difficult to restrain to 12000 words. 12000 words sounds like a lot, but it’s novella length which is slightly more difficult to stick by. It’s not short story length, and could be easily filled with no trouble if aiming for an idea suited to a novel . I had a long time to think about it, and then finally when it came to submitting my proposal, I thought of something.
It’s only now that I’m sat here trying to write it do I realise how difficult my choice was. For I, foolishly, have chosen something that is (overly dramatic pause for overly dramatic effect):
You’ve been a good friend, but also a real twat. You’re that friend who is faithful and great to be around with a wise opinion when it is needed, but also is skint so scrounges off you for money, booze and food. I could kiss you and punch you all at once. But then again, considering the events of the passing year, you’d probably be the kind of number that was into that, wouldn’t you?
I wonder if anyone else has had such a vast amount of changes happen upon them this year. When I look back at the person I was merely a year ago, I can see so much that is different now. The experiences experienced, the lessons learnt, the realisations realised, it all seems like an eternity has passed since it all was yet to come. The connections I lost, the friends I have made, the person I am now and the confidence I’ve developed. All in 365 days. Bizarre coming to think about it.
I never was much of a person to express pride -a polite and modest thanks offered forwards when fed a compliment. If not a thanks, then a denial of achievements, brushed off with A) a joke or B) and uncomfortable chuckle.
Pride has never been my friend. It was always a taunting villain, twiddling its moustache and tempting/confusing me as to whether I should be feeling boastful, or modest, or kind, or honest.
Now, when I say ties, believe you me, I definitely mean social ties. If anyone was to come anywhere near my bright red tartan patterned bow tie with a pair of scissors, I’d come straight back for those jeans and put some rips in them -whether you were an ‘edgy’ thing or not, mate. So no, cutting those kinds of ties are not okay, not in my books.
Social ties however? Now that’s a different story.