I Need To Calm The Frak Down

(breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out)

Hi! My name’s James Patrick Casey, and the ‘Patrick’ is only necessary if I’m feeling pretentious, which I’m not right now. I just wrote a depressing post about my desire for and confused response to apathy, before realising that it was the sort of bullshit even a fourteen-year-old My Chemical Romance fan, who thinks that scratching one’s wrists is makes one an emo, would consider narcissistic, infantile, and generally a bit naff. So here’s a more upbeat post – with exclamation marks, no less! – which is basically my way of getting myself into a better mood; so sorry reader if you wanted Plath-style confessional insights into the workings of my mind, you’re getting an equally self-centred post, in which I convince myself to calm down!

Alright, I need to stop overthinking things: I bailed on a friend on the other day because I wanted to sleep and thought my lack of telling them would really upset them, but the next day we laughed about going to different places to meet; I feared my constant questioning of a friend if I could come over to eat something they had baked would repel them from me as a clingy, shortbread-obsessed loser, but they had saved some for me that I could eat the next day.

There are a few things going on here: firstly, university life is much more like real life than school, so I can’t fall back on homework as a conversation topic, nor can I rely on constant classes as a vehicle to start talking to people; I’m having to actually converse with people about other things, which requires a fair bit of intuition and confidence in one’s own speaking style, and I have neither of those things. Secondly, I’m shamefully underestimating my friends; not everyone is like me, I am forced to remind myself, they won’t all take everything in the worst way possible.

But the most important thing to remember is that there’s nothing to remember! Humans are social creatures by our nature, so I need to focus on living my life, rather than contemplating the meaning of it, retreating back to my room halfway through a pub crawl to painstakingly document all the conversations I had, and using this to numericalise and rank all of my new friends, and their personalities, with the cold precision of a serial killer who enjoys their work a little too much (think Jack Mort from The Dark Tower series).

Basically, everyone is lovely, no-one wants to break a wooden board over my head, and most of the people I’ve met have shared interests in free Shakespeare performances, bitching about how we suck at essays and, weirdly, The Great British Bake-Off (except for one annoying person who really rubbed me the wrong way – one out of twenty’s not bad though).

To borrow a phrase from my depressing draft, I’m an apathetic bastard who doesn’t really get involved in things, and is more comfortable blogging about events than doing them; but I’m an apathetic bastard with great friends and an awesome degree to work on for three years, so I really need to stop complaining.

Now shut the frak up, get to sleep, and finish your essay tomorrow!

Aye-aye!

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