:: Chris Turner's Journal ::

:: Monday, November 10, 2003 ::

I put my feelings in a personal letter to Lindsay. It really helped me get a load of my chest, and I feel much stronger and more confident for having said those things.

It's time to get back on the horse and rediscover all the things I could do, once upon a time. I'm going to start writing prolifically again, rather than keep worrying about being some sort of shitty "fallen" writer - songs, poetry, plays - you name it. I'm really fuelled with determination right now.

:: Plod 00:08 [+] ::
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Causing Hurt

There's one thing worse than being hurt, and that's knowing that you've caused hurt.

Lindsay visited my blog yesterday - I forgot she even had the address, and it's not like I get a great deal of traffic through here anyway - but that's no excuse. She was upset by what she found, and I can't blame her. I'm so annoyed with myself...so annoyed that I didn't take the time to actually tell her how I really felt rather than leave some stupid comment on her AIM. It's a wake-up call. I've got to start getting my act together before things start to fall apart completely. Bring a little bit of that army crap into my regular life. Take control and get a grip - calmly, rationally, and start getting on top of things rather than letting them get on top of me.

And I'm going to start by kicking these stupid fucking mood swings - I'll find a way, somehow.

:: Plod 23:03 [+] ::
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Random thought

Why do computer people always make things to try and make themselves frightening? When someone starts an argument in a forum, it's called "flaming". Oooh. What do I have to protect my computer from hack attacks? A "firewall". Oooh, scary. I expect Microsoft will soon be releasing "Windows XP: Hard Motherfucker Edition".

:: Plod 09:02 [+] ::
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Down the Slippery Slope

I thought a good night's sleep would shake off my weird mood, but it hasn't. I'm sure a sobering day at work will put paid to it for a while. There is *nothing* more boring than selling train tickets. Have a look for yourself. Excited? No? Good.

I'm supposed to be delivering a writing workshop on Wednesday at the Garage Theatre which is something to look forward to I guess. "An Introduction to Stage Writing" - 11am - 1pm. Free, of course. I don't know how many people will turn up, but it would be nice to have a good crowd. I haven't prepared anything yet ("British National Identity" rules my life at the moment in its pissy, cruel way) so I suppose I should get on with it. But I'm so...all over the place.

When a man has nothing left to love, he has nothing left at all.

:: Plod 08:39 [+] ::
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Is there a word for what I'm feeling? Is it jealousy? I don't know. Me & Lindsay are just friends with a history...but what am I supposed to do? I sure as hell am going to feel awkward. It's making my stomach churn even now. Don't get me wrong...I'm going out there as a friend, but...well...maybe I think too much. Call it a habit of being creative.

I'm feeling really detached and miserable right at the moment, and I have no real reason to be. It's these god-awful mood swings. What are they? I don't understand why I feel like this. I wish they wouldn't happen. I wish I could be rational, calm and just shrug things off - but I can't and don't. I dwell, I think about things - I turn them over in my mind so much that they end up consuming me. It'll be my undoing.

I mean, I haven't even got any good reason to be sad. I'm surrounded by friends at university...Liza's become so close to me, I feel like I'm depending on her for support. She's been nothing but good to me, and always looked out for me - remember when she rang because I'd missed a seminar? And then there's Graham - he rang the other day to make sure my essay was going well. These are all good people. They're great people. They're as good as any people I've ever known.

Then there's Kate. I don't know what I feel for her. We're close, and I think she's a very special girl. But am I just covering myself from saying anything deeper when I say that? Am I just running away from what I really think - and am I shying away from what could be the most important things I ever say? I just don't know...I feel like I don't know anything. I'm taking her out again next Wednesday, and we're always in touch...and recently I've started to think about her more and more, but am I just letting myself get carried away again? I don't know what she thinks of me. "Great" is about the only word I ever got out of her on the subject.

The way I feel isn't anyone's fault but my own. I don't know why I feel so confused, but I do. And I even have plenty of places to turn this time, but I feel like I'm so full of crap - if anyone actually heard this, would they care? Would they listen? It sounds like such a pile of bullshit to me, let alone anyone else. And I don't think I can cope with these mood swings. I'm now staring down the barrel of wanting to seek help.

:: Plod 23:39 [+] ::
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Washed Up

You get invited out to America for 10 days, sleeping on someone's floor.

You get everything cleared, bought your ticket, got everything sorted.

Then you hear nothing from the person whatsoever for ages.

Then you find out she has a boyfriend.

And you still think you being there isn't going to complicate anything?

:: Plod 23:22 [+] ::
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Essay Looming

Like the sword of Damocles, my Ideas & Applications hangs over my head. It's due on Monday, and I'm nowhere near where I wanted to be with it...and tomorrow I'm back on the bloody phones at RailEurope. God knows when I'm going to type it all up. Ho hum. Buying Red Dwarf III certainly didn't help my concentration.

I heard from Kelly today for the first time in a while. We're old friends from school (I can't remember if I mentioned her elsewhere in my diary back in time - probably somewhere) and we still keep in touch from time to time. It would be nice to catch up with her properly some time. Lindsay hasn't properly written to me in a while which concerns me a little...after all, I just forked out £200 on a plane ticket to go and see her, though I did catch up with her online...though nothing much was said. And apparently some weird British guy left a message on her phone...she thought it was me. Which it wasn't. Bet you're glad you're reading my diary, aren't you?

I feel a little bit like a writer who has lost his focus right now. Maybe it's work, maybe it's university - I don't know. But I seem to be lacking the deep passion these last couple of weeks to *make* me write anything at all. Maybe I'm just worrying over nothing. I wonder if I'm not actually "creative" but instead merely "full of shit" from time to time.

:: Plod 10:00 [+] ::
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The Week in Review

I've had a reading week this week ("a week off" as Science students would call it) and for the first time ever, I've actually had to use it to get some reading done. I'm struggling with my essay - basically digging up representations of the British nation, what makes it a nation, symbolic importances, blah blah blah. I bore myself just talking about it, so I can't imagine it's interesting for anyone else reading this blog.

I never actually went to see the Woman in Black on Tuesday, due to a cock-up with Liza's scheduling. Hey ho. We've provisionally arranged to go next Monday, but I'm not holding my breath. Yesterday I met up with Kate again and attempted to repair some of the damage done a fortnight ago (see the Archive if you want to know what that was) and I think it went well. I still think she's beautiful, but I don't think there's ever going to be anything between us.

Maybe I just keep telling myself in the hope that one day I'll believe it.

:: Plod 10:52 [+] ::
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Which Book of the Bible am I?

Things have been a little quiet this week, so it must be time for another Quizilla moment.


You are Ephesians.


Which book of the Bible are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

:: Plod 10:49 [+] ::
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Recovery

I've just about recovered from my illness, though I still feel crappy and I have a couple of ulcers at the back of my mouth. They hurt like hell.

Work's getting me down - I have an essay due for the Monday after next and I've barely made an impression. I have to get myself off down to the National Maritime Museum for some research, and then on Tuesday I've got to drag myself off to the British Library. "Representations of Nation and Empire at the Maritime Museum" is my title. Sound gripping? I bet it does.

I'm taking Liza to see "The Woman in Black" on Tuesday (if she'll still come), and I'm out with Kate on Wednesday, so not everything's bad. Also, curiously, I met Eric Richard, the chap who played Sgt. Bob Cryer in The Bill which was weird. He's quite famous and instantly recognisable. We chatted about the theatre, life on stage, acting, the whole shoddy business. Thoroughly nice bloke.

:: Plod 19:18 [+] ::
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