Fourteen pieces of advice I found in 2014

Since I'd asked other people what they'd learnt in 2014, I thought I'd give my contribution. Here are fourteen things.

1. Life sucks, but not that much

I figured that when I'm down I'm usually worrying about something that doesn't matter. Nothing matters too much in the grand scheme of things. It's important to remember the good things too.

2. Some people don't get you, but there will always be some that do and that's okay

I found this out when I moved to university. When you're suddenly thrown into halls away from your old friends, you find that there are people you just don't click with. But it's something that happens throughout life and there will always be people you love as well.

3. Listen to music as you work

As much as you want to, don't listen to music with lyrics when you're trying to get some work done, listen to a film soundtrack or some kind of classical music. It honestly helped me so much in terms of productivity.

4.Embrace opportunities

At University, I've become lazy and I feel as though I haven't welcomed the incredible amount of opportunities available to me enough. When you embrace something new and it turns out to be worth it, it is the most amazing feeling.

5. Don't be afraid to take the lead

In a group situation, if you want something done, take the lead because chances are most people are too scared to start something first. And don't be afraid of your idea being rejected because at least you've suggested something and that's the first step to something fantastic.

6. Getting up early is a damn good thing

I realised if you get up early and face the day, you tend to be more productive and you feel a hell of a lot better about yourself, and healthier too

7. It's okay to have lazy days too

As long as it's not every day, know that you can treat yourself once in a while on a day where you can ignore your responsibilities for a little bit. It's good to have a balance and it's good to treat yourself sometimes.

8. You can learn a lot from the elderly

I took more time this year to get to know my Grandparents and their friends and, quite clearly, they have some damn good advice, so embrace it.

9. Individuals are awesome, find out more about people and their details

People like talking about themselves, and it's a beautiful thing when someone really opens up to you and you suddenly find out their life story, their thoughts and interests. It's like reading a book except it's real and fascinating when it happens. Ask people more about their lives.

10. Don't attack yourself for not doing exercise

You know what's more important than looking good? Being happy, having great friends and doing well in your job/education. People can get so worked up about their size that they fail to concentrate on the more important things in life. By all means exercise but know that the world won't end if you don't.

11. Don't let your day depend on social media or your phone

If you spend your day passing the time because you're waiting for a text, you're not going to have the quality of life that you need. Focus more on what you're going to achieve during the day or on what events are unfolding in real life and enjoy them. Texting is great but it shouldn't stop you from enjoying the real world at first hand.

12. Stop comparing yourself to others

Social media is simply filled with show-offs. We're all show-offs on social media and I know I am but when you get down because some one looks like they're having more fun than you. Chances are you're just not appreciating what you have in front of you enough.

13. Take pleasure in small things
Big and incredible things happen a lot but sometimes days in between adventures might seem tedious. It's important to notice little things that make you happy or little things that make your day slightly better, like when your pets are particularly affectionate or when you get to the bus stop as the bus is arriving.

14. Lastly, sometimes just sitting down with a cup of tea is immensely therapeutic
Sometimes, when I'm really stressed or upset about something I remember that tea exists and the feeling of a warm mug cupped within your hands, watching the world go by silently for a couple of minutes is incredibly relaxing.

An Experiment on Reflection at Christmas

Every Boxing Day my Grandparents host a wild party with all the pensioners on the block plus a few others and the rest of my family. Traditionally, each member of the family should provide some kind of entertainment for the guests and this year I was stuck. However, I eventually decided to run an exercise on reflection.

I asked each guest to write down something they'd learned or a piece of advice from 2014 and I've written down the results. They're really quite lovely.

Some were poignant and thoughtful...

• No one ever quite disbelieves flattery 
• Never be afraid to fail
• Nothing matters too much in the grand scheme of things
• Be happy for others
• Australia and the Australians have far more history than I imagined
• It's nice to keep up with old friends
• The value of travel

Others were more humorous and light hearted...

• I have funny knees [wrote my cousin in response to others noticing that his knees bend backwards a little]
• just realised.. my memory recall is abysmal
• Curiosity may have killed the cat but it was doing what came naturally
• Anchor my Bonsai Trees against the high winds
• Contrary to popular belief, they don't stand upside down in Australia
• Don't live anywhere with "Puddle" in the name [my cousins live in Puddletown and previously lived in Tincleton]
• We've got a rat in our back garden
• Mistook a twitching cat's tail for a mouse that had to be caught [Should've gone to Specsavers]
• To use an ipad, hooray!
• Keep clear of rivers
• Not to trust in the arrival every hour of the 31 Bus [This made the villagers laugh when I read this one out]

But this is what my Grandpa wrote and it is by far my favourite...

• We learnt that the roof will rot, pipes will leak, electrical equipment will fail and copper cylinders will wear out. We are now sorrier, poorer and wiser. 

What I discovered was that you can learn a lot from others and every year brings new revelations. I'm glad I did this and I think I will do the same next time to see what the new year brings. Bring on 2015.

God might be dead, but Music isn't

"Without music, life would be a mistake"

Friedrich Nietzsche wasn't exactly an optimistic man. Remembered for such classic one-liners as "God is dead" and "to live is to suffer", he isn't the kind of guy you'd want to make a speech at your wedding. Compared to these quotations, his opinions on music juxtapose drastically.

When you stop and think about it (which I do a lot) there is very little that every human has in common. Most of us enjoy a good story, making a fuss of cats and sending ugly snapchats, but there's usually an exception. Music is universally loved, and therefore utterly unique.

‘Music’ is a broad term, though. I’m not suggesting that you play Turn Down For What to a room full of pensioners. Equally, Beethoven’s 7th Symphony is not adequate for a drive to theatre with your friends. I learnt this the hard way. Let’s not forget, some music can divide people just as easily as it can bring them together. However, consider a song like Bohemian Rhapsody, which is known and loved by people regardless of their differences in age, in singing ability, in personality and background. Music is a unifying force, with the unparalleled ability to evoke emotion and bring people together. There’s a reason why almost all countries have a national anthem.

Music permeates into every aspect of our lives, and yet we never get bored of it. My dad blasts out Michael Jackson on a Sunday morning in the same way he has for 30 years. I hope in 30 years my kids will be woken up to the sound of me singing along to A Day To Remember, Woodkid and Green Day. I know that by this point these bands will probably have been relegated to the position of “ancient bands no one cares about” by the youthful generation, but if there’s one thing music can do, it’s endure.

Another thing I love about music is that we can never fully understand it. How is it that a variety of seemingly random sounds, played in a certain order, at a certain pitch and to a specific beat, can turn a bad day into a good one? All of us have songs which make us feel great, which make us feel morose, ones which take us back to the best of memories, ones which make us irresistibly think of a certain person, ones that make the hairs on the back of our necks stand up and salute. I love the fact that I can be sat in a university dorm room 100 miles from Ash, and a single song can take me home. The phenomenon of music is not a comprehendible one, and never will be. The idea of a group of scientists in lab coats conducting experiments on Nevermind is laughable. I think it’s important that there are still a few aspects of life that remain a mystery.

So listen to music; really listen. When you’re really focusing on the music you’re listening to, you are truly living in the moment, and that’s an incredibly hard thing to do. Although music is a love that we share with billions, everyone’s musical palette is idiosyncratic. I feel like a lot of people feel slightly ashamed of their music tastes, and that should never be the case. Whatever you’re into, be it rock, rap, house, pop, reggae or post-60s-progressive-neu-punk-metal-crunkcore, love it, and dance like nobody is watching. Believe it or not, Nietzsche had something to say about that, too:

“Those who were seen dancing were considered insane by those who could not hear the music”.

My first homecoming

As a fresher, this was an experience that will remain a strong memory. It was full of realisation and happiness and I can only hope that others can talk of the same relationship with home.
This is a short anecdote but nevertheless a personal insight into my thoughts.

After four weeks of non-stop working and socialising and discovering, I returned to a strangely familiar place I called home. The word 'home' had seeped its way into my vocabulary over the past few weeks in reference to a different place - my new flat in halls.
Upon returning, the first thing I did was try to start my dented, old, rusted, blue car. Clearly my want of adventure never ceased because here I was. I was trying to drive a car that refused to start, abandoned for a month with a grudge against me for leaving it to rust a little more. I think it missed me and I missed it too.
So, I sped down country roads blaring The Smiths as loud as I possibly could with my dad in the passenger seat duetting with Morrisey to 'This Charming Man' like the best friend I never had. The occasion became a memory. It was another memory I could keep of the life I lead back home.

Soon enough I was indulging in the luxuries of non-student life - the food that wasn't own brand, A hot bath and a flat screen TV. I ran around like I was five years old at Disneyland, on a mad frenzy, taking it all in as much as possible. I ran to my cats with hugs and strokes, ignoring their avid attempts to escape my grasp of long lost affection. I ran upstairs to fall daringly backwards on to my parents' double bed, feeling the rush of the air past my ears before landing upon blankets dominated with the smell of washing powder and dust from an old house. I ran to every window to see a different view, faintly remembering all the different ways they looked in each season.

Some attractions in this house were big but the attractions that were small were somehow more fulfilling.

I boiled the kettle just to hear the satisfying click.

But, later on in the evening I was caught by emotion. I was sitting on the sofa in front of 'Have I Got News For You' in my pyjamas with a cup of hot tea, facing our warm, open fireplace. I took in my surroundings again, calmer this time, observant. To my left was the wooden statue of a giraffe my parents had brought back from Africa, to my right a mask from India. Behind me was a grandiose mirror, an antique passed down through my family and the fireplace was ornate and slightly out of place. My old house bore strange looking beams on every wall and ceiling. Upstairs my dad was tucking my little brother into bed. The familiarity stunned me, I never realised how much I'd missed the simple things. All my family were home at once this weekend and this being such a rare occasion, it felt like Christmas. It was a wonderful quality of life.

Strange, how enlightening it was to realise the real differences between university life and home. After talking to a few different people, I realise that they have had different experiences of coming home. Some people left it longer before returning and so their feelings may be stronger. On the other hand, some people have returned home almost every other weekend so the feeling won't be as strong. Others have found the return more relaxing rather than emotional. However, the first homecoming is significant and certainly a great relief to anyone feeling homesick.

To anyone reading this who might be homesick, home would not be home if you do not miss it. Feeling this way means appreciating what you really have. Hang on in there. It takes surprisingly little time for something wonderful to happen that will distract you from missing home so much and maybe it will make life a little more bearable for now. Hold on to this sentiment and know that you are not alone.

University for Introverts

During the first two weeks of university, every single first year's online presence is in competition to see who had the craziest freshers. Who stayed out the latest? Who drank the most alcohol? and after two weeks of straight partying and full on excitement at this new found independence, the homesickness and the physical sickness (i.e.'freshers flu') starts to kick in. Everyone is sneezing and coughing and missing their parents, girlfriends and boyfriends. Suddenly, a night out clubbing until you drop doesn't seem so appealing any more (depending on what you like. If you're still going out every night two or three weeks in, I think you're crazy).

I'm sitting in bed with a cup of tea, freshers are still yelling at the night outside my bedroom window, alcohol pumping through their adrenaline fuelled bodies. I somehow miss home when all I thought about over the summer was university.

One of the things I miss the most is my car. My car symbolises what I love the most about life: travel, adventure, freedom. It also encompasses solitude and friendship. I appreciate the moments when I'm driving alone - letting the music I play enhance the glory of the ride. At the same time I'm driving somewhere to see friends or coming home after a house party. It means I am human and I am living my life. Whereas, here, in my halls at university, I have friends within yards every minute of every day and all the shops are on my doorstep. Whilst the university campus is a short bus ride away, the temptation to stay inside and not have to face the strangers on the bus is far too much. I feel lazy.

I miss not knowing what I'm missing out on. When all my flat mates are out clubbing and I'm sitting in my bedroom doing seminar work that needs to be in the next day, I feel a little bit lonely. I can hear my drunken friends outside our block of flats and I always know where they'll be in the evening. It's the first hand experience of watching other people have more fun than you when duty calls. It makes me worry about the state of my social life in weeks to come.

Truth is, I'm not as scared as I was on the second day. I barely knew the area, I was uncertain, I didn't like the pressure to drink, to stay out late and craved certainty. Two weeks flew by happily and for the first time since the second day, I've sat and thought about where I am right now and what the future holds. Societies will open their doors and I will flourish in their grasp. My course will allow me to expand my knowledge. I will make friends and meet people like I have never known before. I will relish in the opportunities that are given to me. Two or three weeks isn't enough to time to really get to know people or a place and most uncertainties will vanish come Christmas. I guess this is what I tell myself when I feel scared.

My homely bubble of comfort is still a place I can retreat to from time to time but this new way of life isn't so daunting any more. This introvert may cower at the thought of constantly being with others and having to talk to strangers every day. But, so far, I think I've managed a balance between socialising and spending time to myself and I'm pretty proud of it. What I've learned is it's worth trying to be outgoing, but honestly, no one will protest if you disappear into your room for a couple of hours. University is worth it whether you're an introvert or not because at the end of the day you're there to get a good degree and if socialising isn't what you're into then it can wait.

So, all I can say is good luck to my fellow introverts. I might not know much about the way university works yet but I've written down how I honestly feel at this moment in time. I hope I've somehow managed to comfort anyone in the same position as me, perhaps just by letting you know that other people feel the same way. I'm going to emphasise the cliché that everyone is in the same boat because right now, it really is true. Everyone has come to university as a blank canvas. Maybe a couple of friends may be at the same university but it's impossible to remain in the past. I'd say that you should keep that in mind. It helps.

'I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion' - Jack Kerouac

Lessons Learned

I am living in a state of in between - a kind of Limbo. I am in between teenage life and adulthood and I am in between college and university. And just to add to this ever increasing collection of in betweens, I am preparing to move house.

Responsibilities increase every day as bank statements pile up on my desk. My teenager self ignores the numbers on the page - lazy and ignorant. But if the letters didn't exist, if my money didn't exist, I wouldn't be able to live independently as I am so aching to do. Here is my inner battle.

Of course, the biggest uncertainty lies in my educational future. If I don't get the desired results for university, my idea of the future is as chaotic as the artistic arrangement of clothes on my bedroom floor. Thus, uncertainty is at the forefront of my worried mind. I am trying to deal with a life that is about to dramatically change. This is a situation I share with most other 18 year olds.

Some people call it freedom and perhaps it is. During these few weeks, I have a lot of time to do so many things. I could be inter-railing right now or climbing in Machu Picchu. However, nobody lives their life to benefit yours and your friends won't always be there to hang out and invest in the same adventures that you want to pursue. Sometimes people won't be as interested in you as you are them. Most adventures cost money.
Is it really true freedom if all these restrictions are in place?

And so jumping head first into the sea of real life without any armbands is predominantly terrifying. Mistakes will be made, a future is inevitable and life will be lived. Whilst I am living in this in between world, I have come to understand a few things about what the future will hold, about being happy even when the future is uncertain and when a sense of belonging isn't clear.

Here is a short list of what I have come to realise:

• The future is inevitable. When something makes you sad, it's tempting to dwell on the past. But your life will carry on no matter what and you cannot change the past. Learn and move on.
• Mistakes will be made and you shouldn't be afraid of them. If you are making mistakes it means you are doing something with your life, learning and changing. Embrace them.
• Worrying doesn't solve anything. Once you've done what you can, relax. Worrying only makes you feel worse.
• Sometimes you wake up thinking that you're not going to survive the day, but you should laugh and  remember all the days you've thought the same thing and it was never as bad as you expected.
• Getting fed up when you're not doing something exciting, right now, is pointless. There are days when you'll appreciate the chance to be lazy and do nothing. Take advantage of where you are, right now.
• This time, for me at least, is merely a hiatus and instead of dwelling on the idea that your life isn't moving forward at this point in time, relish in still receiving support from your parents but having the independence to live as much as you can. Sometimes being in between teenage life and adulthood isn't such a bad thing after all. 
• There is nothing more boring than a person with a perfect life.

Whatever your results are, you will be fine. Don't let your happiness depend on your results because your life will still be great. Sometimes shit happens.

What is so Romantic about a storm? Why does it make me feel like this?

It was only the other night when the thunder claps shook my ancient house and dark foreboding clouds were illuminated by Zeus's lightning that was thrust upon the earth in short legendary outbursts of anger. Certainly no-one submissive to this rage of nature could have been an athiest in these small hours of the morning. The sheer power of the weather that loomed overhead emphasised how much meaning and value there is in the midst of the bitter, acrid taste of reality.
I could argue there was something romantic or intriguing about how I sat by my window at 3am indulging in the magnificence of it. It was familiar to me as though I should have been the subject of a novel - a tragic love story like Wuthering Heights perhaps, or maybe the tragic story of a reckless teenager. This is because to be Romantic with a capital letter, destruction and tragedy is as much a part of its enchantment as happiness and love, if not more so. This is why my mouth curled at the edges at each strike of lightning. Each sparking ideas in my mind, poetic words swimming around my head, Shakespearean phrases and philosophical wonder. My mind was full and so was my heart because life didn't feel meaningless.

However the storm was fleeting and so was my shameless, self-absorbed idealisation. There is nothing romantic or intriguing about destruction. There is nothing romantic or intriguing about the way you let the poisonous taste of vodka scald the lining of your throat or about the picked scabs at your crooked, fallen knees shaped like scattered islands on a map. Perhaps it just is. It just is.

The storm had manipulated my emotions to such an extent that my heart felt 'full' and this 'fullness' was affiliated with the battle in the sky. It was a mixture of sadness, happiness, awe and melancholy. It was the combination of such differing emotions that truly made me think. When the storm is over and I am suddenly conscious of reality again, there is no more intensity of emotion, nothing even close to how this storm made me feel. But then, in reality, that means there is also not deep sadness. I could see that as a good thing if I want to remain truly happy and content with life. But then again, that 'full' feeling is desirable and reality seems dull in comparison, even though I know that life isn't equal and we all get shitty shares of some of it - I should be happy with what I have. It's almost addictive and its hard to snap out of it when the temptation to indulge is so high like the way the temptation to scratch an insect bite predominates the forefront of your consciousness.

But just like all addictions, the less you give into it the easier it gets and all of a sudden you no longer remember the satisfaction of giving in. That's why the moments after the storm are the most disappointing; because the memory is fresh in your mind and you can't shake the feeling until a few minutes later when you can finally get used to the calm and quiet of the night. At least then you can sleep. Leave the dreams for then.

Perfect Strangers

Talking to strangers, from the day you're born and especially in the U.K has been discouraged vehemently. The notion is fixed in your brain from an early age and once you've left secondary school the friends you've made are ingrained in your life like little splinters under the skin. When you leave, your friends may be set for life. However, chances are you'll lose contact with many. They'll be teased out by the paths of life that take you towards university or straight into the real world where new friends have to be made. Ultimately we all start as strangers and strangers will flow in and out of your life. So, why not make the most of it?

The British are known for their stiff upper lip and we are reluctant to introduce ourselves to the lesser known celebrity on the street or the handsome man at the back of the bus. Each time we make a decision to keep to ourselves, it is a lost opportunity. You could get to know someone who has an incredible story to tell or even someone who may one day become your soul mate. Whilst some may not welcome a simple introduction at a bus stop, there is no harm in trying.
Isn't it strange how your best friend was once just another kid in your class at school or how you may have once walked past your future significant other in the street and had absolutely no idea? You may have walked past a future Nobel prize winner or accidentally bumped unknowingly into an up and coming Hollywood movie star. They say that you're no more than five handshakes away from everyone in the world and I want to try and decrease that number. It doesn't need to be a handshake but a simple 'Hello' is a good start.

A week ago I met and conversed with Arthur Darvill at The National Theatre in London. I thought to myself, if I had missed the opportunity for this brief encounter due to shyness, I'd have spent at least the next twenty-four hours mentally pinching myself over my sheer stupidity. And God, I'm so glad I had the courage to walk up to him and chat because I genuinely appreciate his work. Many people suffer anxiety over what celebrities may think of them but as long as you don't attack them with unwelcome, exaggerated affection, they're bound to appreciate acknowledgement.

But celebrities aren't always the most interesting people around. Sometimes the best lack all conviction; the most inspiring are sometimes the quietest people who may have the loudest minds. Even looks don't determine likeability - simply look at the Kardashians. The seemingly average boy who sits opposite you in class may have the ability to make you laugh so much you cry.

Something which has often occurred to me is how "We're only supporting characters in the lives of each other". We simply don't consider that the people you pass on the streets or in the corridors at college, have lives and thoughts as complex and exciting as your own. For me, part of the fun of getting to know someone is working that out. Perhaps that's why talking to strangers appeals to me so much. Of course I use my common sense to work out who might be happy to chat and who might be a dodgy character, but I suppose we shouldn't be as cynical as we are about the general public. After all "The best lack all conviction and the worst are full of passionate intensity".

I don't want to miss out on the best parts of life just because I waited for it to come to me. You've got to reach out and explore.

Maybe I'll take a small risk and compliment a stranger tomorrow.

Antici........pation

So, I have a small notebook where I occasionally vent my feelings and today, reading back, I've recently displayed to myself this intense desire to explore. I've simply realised that all I want is to leave the confined spaces of my home in pursuit of new cultures, different surroundings, unfamiliar territory. I have been overcome by wanderlust and I'm sure it has been provoked by the sheer proximity of a new freedom which is hurtling towards my direction causing my anticipation to rise to an uncomfortable height. In under two months I finish A levels and soon I will never have to go to school or college again. In under sixth months I will, hopefully, be living independently in a new city as a university student and this prospect is taunting every inch of me.

Passing my driving test and getting a car has contributed to my wild longing for I now have this machine that gives me the means to access as far as my fuel will take me. It is an  independence where I can discover the roads beyond, whenever I like without having to rely on my parents. That feeling of liberation when you're blasting music at night, on a motorway and on your own for the first time is utterly incomparable. A sense of adventure in me has sparked to life. Suddenly I'm hit by an urge to spontaneously escape out on midnight drives to wherever the roads take me because I crave the unfamiliar and I'm eager for the thrill of discovery which I haven't experienced in too, too long.

But whilst a short day trip to London may only satisfy my cravings briefly, I am desperate for more. Boredom must be non-existent and any form of procrastination has to be a distant concept that I no longer pursue whether consciously or without meaning to. It has to be somewhere where I don't need the internet to distract me, where my mind cannot wonder aimlessly away from the world within my grasp. I want to be somewhere that begs to be explored or written about and I want new experiences to come out of the wilderness and grab me by the already packed rucksack firmly strapped to my back.

Ultimately, exams are the only force in the way of  this kind of freedom and the closer it gets, the worse it becomes. However, as my craving builds, the anticipation also rises. Often euphoria will occur sporadically. It comes when you least expect; you're at a music festival surrounded by all your friends and all of a sudden you're sprinting to Tesco at 3am and pushing each other in abandoned shopping trolleys and the stars are guiding you and you forget all your responsibilities; you're lying in a park in the sun with your favourite people and you can feel the warmth on your face and the grass on your back and you're listening to beautifully relaxing music. It is the best feeling and you don't expect it and suddenly life is great and it doesn't suck and every little thing brings you joy. But alternatively a life without excitement would not be worth living.

Jake the dog from Adventure Time said "if you get everything you want the minute you want it, what's the point of living?" and that is what it comes down to. The moments you value the most are the moments you have spent craving each second leading up to it and the ones that you have thought about every day.
It is the energy of the crowd at a music concert before the headlining band appear on stage. It is the lurch in your stomach before a long-awaited kiss.It is the unadulterated excitement before you step on the plane to travel to a new destination, the intensity as the plane lifts up into the sky, the butterflies in your gut as your face first touches the warm air of a new country waiting to be explored. And it adds to every experience. When my new life starts, I will value it fully.

Imperfections are better than perfections

Perfection is overrated.
When you meet new people, I urge you to study their imperfections. Do they have an awkward laugh? Do they give a limp handshake? Are they absolutely terrible at taking a compliment? It's worth observing because I guarantee you'll be able to tell more about a person from their imperfections than from their perfections.
Perfect people are boring. A face that wears a few freckles, a scar and a slightly crooked nose bares infinite stories and far more than any perfectly symmetrical and spotless face ever could. Flaws are beautiful in their own way. A person is built by their past and if their past leaves physical scars or just scars of memory, their stories become better than the best works of fiction. They may have a twisted view of the world but this flaw or any flaw is a novel that gradually becomes known to you. You read their body language, their spoken words and the words that escape from their eyes.

The same goes for relationships and friendships. If you both like exactly the same music, agree on all the same political views, have the same opinions about every film and television show then life becomes dull and nothing new will pass your lips. Conversation will become shallow. I'd rather argue my view point and passionately rant about why I don't believe in God to a committed Christian than waste my words trying to persuade someone who never needed persuasion to begin with.

When you find someone new to love, your rhythms will always be out of balance at the start. You may stumble over sentences, bump heads when leaning in to kiss, hold hands the wrong way round - clumsy. But it's the journey of discovery, the exploration of the tiny details that are really the most wonderful. Perhaps you won't be totally different and perhaps you'll share a lot in common but if that person was really so similar to you then you wouldn't even be with them. You might as well become asexual.

Plato wrote in his Symposium.. "According to Greek Mythology humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search for their other halves"

Whilst the notion may be fantasy, it rings true that perhaps those who we are most compatible with are different to ourselves. Perhaps their tendency to view things in a positive light is more prominent than yours but their capacity for mood swings may be larger. There is always something lacking and if you fit like a puzzle piece to smooth out the imperfections, you know something is right.

Forget plastic surgery. Forget trying to like the 'coolest' music. Forget about your habits. Forget about your emotional issues.

I'd rather know someone with a thousand things to figure out. I'd rather have someone I get annoyed with from time to time. I'd rather look at imperfections. I guess imperfections are what makes someone perfect.

Brevity is the soul of wit and so forth...

Impermanence, I have come to realise recently, is a huge part of life.

As my phone relentlessly lost charge and re-started itself over and over, as the electronic screen glared me in the face, as my files and memos disappeared one by one as I reset my phone, I was enlightened to the fact that none of these photos that I had taken in the past few months would be kept forever. The sim card could easily break and even if you back up all your photos and memos on to your laptop, there's nothing physical about them. They live in these electronic realms of existence which could break at any one time.
The same thoughts ran through my mind as I searched frantically around the house for our wifi password which I had written down on a small piece of paper. This tiny piece of paper could be hiding anywhere in the house, it may have journeyed somehow to the bin or escaped out the window in a bid for freedom. I eventually acquired the wifi from my Dad's computer where it was stored. I found it ridiculous how a physical piece of paper could be lost more easily than something stored electronically. My own thoughts contradicted themselves and now I sit here writing this blog post as I wonder whether anything could ever be permanent.

This goes for relationships too as I have discovered. Having fairly recently broken off a long-term relationship I had come to realise that all idealisation of the relationship lasting was always false. I suppose at our peak I considered spending the rest of my life with him. After so long it felt like I could never get away from it, like it should carry on forever - not because I wanted it to but because that's how I felt it ought to be. It was the longest relationship I have ever been in and  that made it quite difficult to come to terms with being single and independent. But, honestly, I know that in my future there may be several break ups that'll prove further, that relationships will not last forever. I know this sounds depressing but every relationship will end in a break up, divorce or death.

The not so depressing part is that impermanence isn't always a bad thing. Often the more enjoyment you have the faster it goes and it is in this fleeting excitement that you experience the best moments in life. Impermanence means you can try new things. You can weave in and out of relationships, work your way round the globe, eat delicious food. You'll savour these experiences solely for their brevity. And of course "Brevity is the soul of wit". Even the most simple experiences are like this: I wouldn't truly appreciate my hot cup of tea if the mug automatically filled up after each sip.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is that you should relish life's surprises and life's restlessness because sometimes euphoria can come in short bursts and the shorter the simpler. The simpler, the better you feel.

Because the only people for me are the mad ones...

How do you define weird? Abnormal, different, odd, strange, eccentric. Oh, all the possibilities of weird.
When you think about it, there are an infinite number of oddities. And logic follows that not any one person could be normal. So then how do you define normal? Is it simply your public behaviour, what you choose to display to the world. Is it really the way that everyone usually acts? We are not clones.
There is a very fine line between normal and weird and that, in itself, is an absurd idea which I simply cannot get my head around.
I have often found that those who I attach myself to the most, are the ones whose minds are streaming with ideas and are willing to display those whether in writing or in person. Throughout my whole education I have found myself most at home with the most messed up, insane, wild, catastrophic kids, whether they're emotionally unstable, reckless, mischievous, argumentative or all of the above. It's as though I take a check list along to every new school I attend and become best friends for life with the one with the worst reputation. Bonkers? Check. An outcast? check.
I stick to them like a lost child pining for a guardian.Then I feed off the excitement and trouble they create.
I sit and wonder what these 'weird' people all have in common.
These are lost passionate souls, awake and thriving in the wilderness that is modern society. They are creative, intelligent beings that freely roam and discover the very edges of possibility. Their recklessness widens my own eyes and excites me. And I respect the mad and the lonely and the impossible because they have no cares for the thoughts of others, or perhaps too many cares. They either make themselves 'weird' or simply thrust their personality into the void. People come and go, observe and watch the creatures that lurk. It is like watching animals at a zoo. Pet the tame avoid the unpredictable.
Make friends with them? why would you? They're far too odd. Discuss them? Despise them from afar? It's all too easy to do that.
I introduce myself to the odd ones, to the interesting and the intelligent with fresh fruit in the form of ideas, growing in their brains. I consider why they express themselves in the way they do. Isn't that the most interesting part? But then, maybe I'm weird.

All I know for sure is that I have learnt this:
"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow Roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars" 
- Jack Kerouac 'On the Road'

Solitude

"There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone"

I hear you Sylvia Plath.

Two years ago I found myself coming to the end of an era - the end of five years at boarding school where privacy was a rare and valued concept. For five years, the only time I could ever truly be alone was sitting in a toilet cubicle at midnight. Having shared a boarding house with around sixty girls and a dorm with ten girls, I came to appreciate any time I could spend alone where I could sing to myself, think out loud and dance like I'm Beyoncé. I couldn't be alone when showering, brushing my teeth or getting changed and it was as a result of this that I became conscious of every aspect of my daily routine. I was conscious of the way I spat toothpaste into the sink and I perfected the art of putting on underwear without revealing myself.
I value my solitude. I value lying in bed at night and not altering the rhythm of my breath so I don't inhale or exhale in time with my inmates. I value the lack of a uniform. I value not waking up to Katy Perry shouting me down each morning. I don't have to wake up at all. Nothing can interrupt my dreams if I please.
Solitude is vital to me. My thoughts are no longer interrupted by the whine of hair dryers in the morning or bitchy comments in the middle of the night. I can sleep without the sound of snoring mocking my exhaustion. I can choose who I take in to my bedroom. I can listen to silence instead of unintentionally eavesdropping on homesick phone calls to parents. I don't have to feel embarrassed about the posters I pin up on my wall or pyjamas I wear.
It is in the silence and privacy of my bedroom that I am most creative. I can write down my thoughts. I can write poetry. I can express my anger through wild interpretive dance if I please.
It's not just my bedroom where I find solitude. Walking down an empty street, I can appreciate my surroundings. I can sit on a bench and people watch. I can sit on a bus and stare out the window, listen to music and dwell in my solitude. It's a strange kind of enjoyable loneliness when I'm surrounded by others, like feeling entirely alone at a Gatsby-size party.

'And I like large parties, They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy'

-The Great Gatsby

Solitude sometimes creeps up on you in a crowded room but ultimately you don't have to be lonely. Your own company is often just as awesome as someone else's.

You're a teenager not Nelson Mandela.

Essays and miracles are what I feel are expected of me on a daily basis as a student and a teenager. Making a mess of my bedroom? I'm flawless. Tweeting about how emotional Sherlock was? I could be a professional.
From the moment you start GCSEs, grenades are thrown at you with the pin out. You have to collect every single opportunity and find a way in or out before the whole thing blows up in your face. On top of all that we're expected to go to that amazing party, revise for everything, make time for family, tidy our rooms, exercise, learn the flute and tie ourselves in knots just to please everyone else. The media tell us we're reckless, drunken, socialites who spend our lives smoking weed, doing neknominations and getting pregnant. This Buzzfeed article gives a list of why, in actual fact, our generation is way more boring than ever before. Our parents were probably on far more drugs than we are and rebelled far more than we do.

The best trick performed at my secondary school was creating a collective hum whilst the whole school photo was being taken. I nearly got suspended for walking to the local sweet shop during school hours.When rebelling against the new headmaster we taped passport sized photos of the previous headmaster to various places around the school, including a poster of Mohammed Ali. No harm was done, no consequences, no success.
My parents have far better stories from their teen years than I ever will. I don't have time to run riot, drinking on hill tops, sleeping over in abandoned buildings or climbing on different roof tops. My to do list grows longer with every coursework assignment I must write, classic book I should read. The worst thing I'll do on a Tuesday night is eat cake in front of the first season of Game of Thrones.

If you're a parent reading this right now, go on twitter. If you read any teenager's twitter I guarantee you will find at least one tweet that complains about the sheer amount of miracles we're required to perform every day. Turn water into wine? Turn three books into a three thousand word essay whilst riding a bike up Mount Everest and reciting Hamlet cover to cover.
As the title says, you're a teenager, not Nelson Mandela.

Strangers on a Bus: A Study.

Buses are unreliable, smelly, full of germs and bloody inconvenient at times. We're all strangers on a bus but it occasionally leads to a rare occurrence. In England, with our stiff upper lip and our public introversy, we rarely meet and greet people on public transport apart from tutting at some miscreant youth who pushed into a queue. Yet, on one particular wet and nasty evening ride, I felt an almost collective annoyance on the crowded vehicle. The queues out of Guildford were building, the bus was half an hour late, floods further perilled our journey and it was stormy. I suddenly felt like I had a connection with these strangers on the bus. It is rare that we open our eyes and notice that strangers in the street or on public transport have lives as complex and varied as our own.
At the front of the bus sits a middle aged man in a suit with a briefcase. His hair is silver. I assign little details. I imagine the life he has. He is a banker with a wife and a son who has just left home. He has just started a job at a new branch. He is taking the bus because the parking is a nightmare. Usually his wife would pick him up from town but she is on a girls holiday in Venice.
Sitting behind me is a boy of about sixteen, sitting on his own. He has just met up with a girl he really likes in town. He is wondering whether to text her or not. He is the oldest sibling and has two little sisters. His dad is a famous actor but he doesn't like to tell people because he doesn't like the attention.
An elderly woman sits to my right clutching a hand bag. She's been to see her daughter for coffee. She lives on her own in a flat with two cats called Molly and Socks. She likes to watch Downton Abbey, drink Earl Grey and complain about the weather.
I wonder if any strangers on the bus look at me and wonder what my life is like. Do they think I'm rich, poor, middle class? Do they wonder about what house I live in? Or what jobs my parents have? Or my habits and my hobbies? My family and my friends? But when I think of all the facts about my life, how complex they are, I don't think I could ever get any facts right about others. There are infinite possibilities of what anyone's life could be like. I try to look for clues, like their clothes and their age, their possessions or their facial expressions . But the truth is, you can never truly judge someone merely from their appearance. That's what truly fascinates me. It means that you could be sitting next to the long lost relative of Henry VIII and you'd have absolutely no clue.

Stories from my childhood reality

The world created through my father's imagination always struck a chord in me. These were the stories that the mind of a child could reach out and touch without any element of disbelief cracking the glass of their little reality. These were the stories that I will always remember because they were utterly ridiculous but they were absolutely nothing compared to any childhood programme. These were the stories that could not be touched by a cartoonist because the imagination of such a young child could never be put onto paper. These were the stories of dreams. The type that you know in your head but find it so difficult to convey the true experience of such fantasies. But, still I will attempt to recall the wonders.

The first story I remember was the story of four kittens called Eenie, Meenie, Miney, and Mo - like the rhyme. These four kittens lived in a large house next to a forest where many grizzly bears lived, one of which was their ultimate enemy. I fail to remember the name of the bear but in my imagination I picture him looking like Baloo from the Jungle Book. In every story the bear would attempt to get into the house and every time he tried, the four kittens would set a booby trap for the bear, like filling a bucket of something ghastly and placing it on top of a door, setting it ajar so that on being opened the contents would spill out all over anyone who tried to come in.

The second was about an animal called 'Aga the Panthus'. I always imagined this character as looking like the pink panther. The unusual thing about 'Aga the Panthus' was that whatever he ate, he would turn the colour of what he was eating, which was of course, terribly inconvenient. Anyhow, every time he changed colour I would roll over in absolute hysterics at the thought of turning orange whenever I ate a carrot or yellow when I ate a banana.

And third, and the one I remember best, was a story about a creature called Coattle, who I imagined as a mix between a tortoise and a lizard, who lived with his friend Jaguar in 'Ooold Mexico'. Coattle was a calm and small creature, Jaguar was hypnotically hyper and spoke very very fast. Together the two friends would lie on a rock and bask in the heat of the sun with Sid the snake and they'd get up to lots of different adventures together. And every time my father would sit down to tell me the story, I would choose what the story would be about. I remember, there was once a story about jumping beans that lived in the sand underneath the rock and a story about a Llama. But, what hypnotized me was the story where Jaguar, Coattle and Sid were lying on the rock at night and then the stars started to go out, one by one. The three characters discovered that what they watched every night were not stars but fireflies. This was the closest I came to existential wonderment before I even knew what stars really were.

The Beginning

This blog is hopefully going to be the beginning of some interesting and thoughtful writing from myself, minus the relentless rambling my previous blogs consisted of. This year will see my launch into adulthood and my daunting journey into university student life so I'm determined to start anew. As a student of English Literature, History and Philosophy I've had plenty of experience in writing, but if I want to become a journalist, perhaps some writing of a different style should ensue. Experience is key.

As this is my first post on this blog, i'll introduce myself. Hello, My name is Alice. Not to be confused with Alice in Chains, Alice Cooper or Alice in Wonderland. I'm an introvert with the personality of an extrovert. I am the complete opposite of a minimalist and keep my life like an organised mess. I'm an actress, an ardent reader of poetry, classics and Oh Comely magazine. I am also an avid worrier.

I mostly listen to The Smiths, Lana Del Rey, The 1975 and Arctic Monkeys. My guilty pleasure is Disney songs. I used to be a singer for a band but gave up to work on my A Levels.
My desire to become a Journalist came directly from my dad - my biggest influence. My dad works freelance for the BBC and was previously the African foreign correspondent. He also studied Classics and History at Cambridge. In comparison my goal is to study at Bristol University (if I get there), to travel the world and to work in either Law or Journalism afterwards. I'd love to study History which is unremarkable considering that my house is over five-hundred years old and my family are deeply interested in our ancestry.
Procrastination would be one of my defining characteristics. I tend to excuse myself from work due to 'dire levels of stress' and spend a lot of my time trying to find different ways to relax.
"Alice, Why don't you get on with that Philosophy revision?"
"Nope, got Yoga"
"How about History Coursework?"
"I can't, baths to have, films to watch, Lana Del Rey to listen to. I NEED to bake a cake"

So round up what you should expect from my posts, I'll say this. I'm unpredictable, mysterious, it could be anything. But it'll probably be musings about elements of life, reviews of films and music and opinions on current affairs. I'll try to be funny but don't count on it making you laugh. The most you'll get is that odd throat noise you make when you're mildly amused. However,  I anticipate that my future posts will be thought provoking, funny and interesting.

Thank you for reading my first post.

Lots of love

Alice x