Wednesday, 21 October 2009

I'm not sure about this whole Cambridge thing.

I wish today that I was different or that I was in a different place. I'm not sure Cambridge and I are bonding as well as we might. I don't yet know if this is irreconcilable.

Why am I doing this? I just want to write my novel, but all the time I'm going to lectures on science and maths and 'professional studies'. I am confused as to how I got here, and why. I feel that I'm making a big sacrifice of who I am as a person.

Summer was fantastic. I don't know if I should have stayed in Finland for winter, too. I thought I needed a 'career'. Maybe I really do need a 'career'. And maybe the reality of teaching will fit me better than the course. It's sort of hard to know in advance. But I feel frustrated because I think writing is what I'm best at and it's what I should be doing.

I'll be in Finland in under 48 hours, stay 10 days, and then back for 6 more weeks. After that I'll be 1/3rd done.

Friday, 18 September 2009

So I moved to cambridge.


I live in Cambridge. Not just in Cambridge, but in Cambridge University. Homerton College, pictured above. Here are my observations from week one:
- we are allowed to read alot of picture books and play musical instruments and play ball games during lesson time
- no bottled water in the library
- 'the buttery' contains only an average amount of butter
- there are a lot of Japanese tourists in the town
- even when I only live a five minute walk from bed to lecture hall, I still possess a remarkable capacity to be five minutes late
- more often than not, lectures start 5 minutes early and finish 10 minutes late. maximum value for money then!
- everyone ive met is serious about studying
- the poetry scene is good
- on campus, no one walks on the grass, drops litter or is noisy. people hold doors and say hello when passing strangers. no one rushes.

Monday, 6 July 2009

Living in Finland


Things which are popular in Finland:
- Licorice
- Sausage dogs
- Frowning
- Walking Poles
- Sitting opposite strangers on the train when there is enough space not to
- Weather (it is the whole front page of the newspaper each day)
- Coffee
- Kebabburgers and Kebabpizzas
- Raindeer meat
- The truth
- Visiting one's relatives
- Rye Bread
- Empathy
- Precision
- Moomins
- Forests
- Plaits
- Renting
- Second hand stores

Things which are not:
- Vegetables
- Facial expressions
- Interrupting
- Spontaneity
- 'Trend' fashion
- Talking on public transport
- Flashiness/ boasting
- Short skirts
- Exaggerating
- Sandwiches

Friday, 8 May 2009

Vivat Sunningdalia

Tonight at showers:
Vincent: Your mum sat on a tv and the tv broke because she was so stupid
Joe: Your mum was the tv but then she gave birth to you by accident
Vincent: Not your mum, my mum, i mean, your mum, your mum was the one that did that
Joe: Your mum was wearing a yellow t shirt and all it was was just a yellow t shirt with all her fat hanging out, all her fat hanging out at the bottom and out the sleeves
Vincent: Your mum was doing that except she turned into a taxi and everyone ran after her and tired to climb into the t shirt but her fat was taking up all the room, wasnt it
Joe: I'm better at the high jump
Vincent: I'm better at waterskiing I'm better at waterskiing I'm better at waterskiing
Joe: You're annoying
Vincent: You're annoying and I wish you would go away
Joe: You're a fart
Vincent: Your mum tried to fart but she couldn't
Joe: Yeah, well. I know what you are.
Vincent: No I'm not
Joe: You are
Vincent: No I'm not
Joe: You're a... you're a pube
Vincent: No I am not
Joe: You're two pubes
Vincent: You're pubes. What is a pubes?
Joe: It's really like a wanking. They're practically the same.
Vincent: What are they actually though, tell me
Joe: You're one of them. You should know.
-

Next thursday I'm leaving these boys and moving to Finland and having a new job and a new life. It breaks my heart to leave them. I don't know how I'll ever be able to tell them I'm going.

Wednesday, 25 March 2009

Today and Yesterday and Tomorrow

A boy wakes me in the night, afraid of monsters.

His breathing rattle rattles.

I lay down in the bed beside him

And point out the night-shapes

Of towels and blankets and other boys.

The window panes press in on us

But his lungs are louder. The cabinet

Stops us seeing each other’s faces:

I lift my arm so he can tell I’m still alive.

He coughs and struggles, perhaps asleep,

Perhaps not. I think of dialling 999

But something of the darkness stops me.

In the morning, the boy tells me goodbye.

A man I nearly know dies in transit. I strip

100 sheets from 100 beds, thinking of nothing.

Monday, 16 March 2009

Bumblebee

I saw my first bumblebee of the season today, by the canal in Reading. It looked pretty sleepy. I had forgotten how beautiful they are. Perhaps by autumn I will have forgotten the beauty of conkers?

Saturday, 7 March 2009

I don't want to go to stupid cambridge.

I have a place this september. I'm being so ungrateful about it.

I'm tired of fresh starts. I've had eight jobs and lived in six places in the past year. I don't want to move, and make new friends, and buy more blu-tack for the stuff I stick on my walls. And I don't want to have to file things.