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.