Time Passes

(channeling my inner Yeats for this one; with regards to this blog post, a terrible beauty will be born)

Tomorrow will be the six month anniversary of this infamous post, in which I offhandedly mentioned two of my friends hooking up, and has since become the epitome of my relentlessly invasive blogging of all my friends’ lives without their permission, like a kind of old News of the World journalist whose articles only focus on the same ten people, but who can actually write tasteful things. Incidentally, tomorrow will also be the six month anniversary of said hooked-up friends, who have managed to cobble a rather successful relationship together for that length of time, despite both being friends with the romantic black hole that is me.

And this much-tweeted occasion made me think of something: that it’s been six months since I danced to Miley Cyrus wearing a Bad Religion shirt. And it’s been seven months since I wrote 60,000 words of short stories in twelve days over Christmas. And it’s been a depressing ten months since I asked an athlete wearing a UCL handball hoodie at a chance karate social, that introduced me to both the sport, and the hoodie-wearing individual who has since been quite an excellent friend.

The reason that I’m only going back to the start of my time at university in these realisations (I could marvel over the fact that it’s been eleven and a half years since I was diagnosed with diabetes, but that’s pushing this back a bit far) is because I consider that part of my life to be not just recent, but current. I am a university student, who’s not living in his own flat, who’s scraping a 2.1, who’s juggling a thousand societies all at once. And while I feel like this is all the present, it’s the past; first-year is over, and no amount of ignoring my increasingly adult responsibilities will change that. There’s a disconnect between the way I see myself, and the actualities of my life, which has reared its ugly, but inevitable, head much faster than I expected; just as primary school, secondary school and Sixth Form were multi-yeared blocks of relative consistency, my life has changed from one year to the next.

As I delve into the even more complex and foreign worlds of employment and relationships, I’m likely to compartmentalise my life into even smaller sections; my friends are celebrating six months of dating, but that’s a unit of time I’ve not had any need to consider in such a singular, small, way. Six months is the planning time for a novel, or revision time for a play, and will feed into larger things like the writing of that novel, or the taking of that play’s exam; six months can’t be a thing in and of itself.

Except that it is. My life is, and will be, changing in much shorter periods of time than it was before, and I’ll have to adapt. This is why uni life has been so different to any other stage in my life; I’ve made better friends, and written more things, but these have just been extensions of things I’ve been doing, if you think about it; but I’m approaching and dividing my life into different sections. I’ve only lived 38 half-years, but now I’m having to think in such small measures of time.

Also, on an unrelated note, happy anniversary to my two friends; I didn’t get you anything, because it’s your relationship, and so each of your responsibilities to suck up to each other’s narcissistic needs in an attempt to alleviate the fundamentally lonesome nature of human existence with cuddling, sex and shared opinions on the current state of British politics.

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39 thoughts on “Time Passes

  1. James! Hello! Ah, luvvly-jubbly. Here’s comment attempt número duo. If another one floats your way, well, um, I don’t know. I’ve been dropping comments at everyone and I’m glad I’ve finally got here because I wanted to cram my thoughts on everything I’ve missed lately here, so, yeah, let the mammoth of a comment begin. I have your blog open up on another tab here.
    Hold on. Let me pop a song on in the background – me likes typing with music ‘bobbing’ around me. Yes it’s possible.
    Right. First, whatever this Bloodborne shabam is, it appears to have quite an effect on you. Part of me wishes I had a console to try it, but at the same time maybe I should be grateful that I don’t? Would I be scarred? Scared, even? But then, maybe I’d relish the challenge. You seem to have, so keep going. Dat swordical hammer thing you wrote about. Yah. Interesting.
    Next. The Facebook feed post. Haven’t got a direct comment for that (understandably) but the first bit in the brackets was a link to a sad violin video and ASDFGJFKLEKWJEJDJSJJWE I WENT BESERK YOU HAVE NO IDEA. I didn’t even need to click on it and I knew it was the one Krabs played in Spongebob. Hells yeah.
    High-waisted drop-downs, eh? They kind of confuse me too. I had a bit of trouble envisioning them. Still do a little, but when I think high-waisted I think well, yeah, and though I’ve never tried them, imagining them down; righty-ho! I kind of focused on the bit where you kind of mathematically compared the sizes of certain bits of the trousers and then it got me thinking about men’s trousers sizings and shit and oh ack it’s confusing. Not to get too awkward here but especially the upper area, and I feel the confusion because I actually wear dude’s trousers to school. Everyday for the past God knows how many years of my life I’ve always settled for the cruddy cords which never got made into a girl’s version (sorry to use such one or the other gender referencing here) and I never bought from elsewhere because they weren’t introduced when there was much point in changing – basically I only need to wear them for one more academic year and then I’m done – and WAAAH. The fitting’s been wrong forever and I’ve been too lazy to do anything other than invest in belts which don’t really work that well and the crotch area is naturally wrong and low and ah, reading that post made me, well, think. Too much information. I tried to be vague. *sigh*
    Buses. How the frick have you survived that many buses/routes? I bus home from school and it’s two buses. I was out and about the other day and I saw that every bloody bus looked full to bursting. I did a combo of train-ing and walking. I have one praise though; I like how some buses curve round the back. Teehee.
    I’m done. I think. Which post do I bomb with this comment? Sorry James.
    Also – this may be typo-central. Forgive me. It’s half twelve. am.

    Oh my God. This is LONG!

    1. Z you are wonderful and I have missed you!

      You will be both scared and scarred if you try Bloodborne – it was so hard the developers couldn’t beat it so they had to tone it down for the release. Although the kirkhammer is quite fabulous. Watch an LP of it on YouTube if you want a feel for it.

      I’ve always wondered why high-waisted bottoms are, to use the modern lingo, a ‘look’ for women but not men? Is it that women have hips that would look nicer under higher trousers? Seems a bit of a stretch. Because it’s a look I admire yet never see on men, and it’s confusing. Also that’s thy only maths you’re getting on this blog so don’t hold your breath. And school uniforms in general suck ass – boys’ variants are merely slightly less demeaning than girls’, so props there.

      And I like buses, so shush.

      1. IT SENT THROUGH. SUCCESS.
        I’ve missed me too. Jokes. Heh. No but seriously fanks.
        Oh wow. Will check it out on YouTube!
        This trouser department is confusing all over. Well there’s always the “getting the curves” and other “hourglass” whatnot swirling around. I just want flippin’ comfort.
        *exhales*
        Fine. Fine. You can have the stuffy method of transport.
        Literally though. I never get a seat on the bus. Always squished in the aisle. And I always whack people with my bags. It’s awful.

        1. Screw hourglass figures, I just like the combinations of colours and shapes that make up high-waisted trousers. #demisexualproblems (and yes I’m making jokes about a thing I decided upon literally twelve hours ago, if that). Comfort is of paramount importance though.

          I also like standing on buses, although that may be the result of the fact that I’m not really capable of sitting down…

          1. XD
            Ah yes; forgot to say a go you on the whole sexuality thing. Go you Patrick Casey James. I mean Patrick James Casey. James Casey. Wait hold on. When you were at school did you keep the Patrick in your name (like on the register)?
            Comfort. Tis good.
            You can’t sit? O.o am I missing something? Is there a post explaining this? You okay? OH GAHD.

            1. No, I was never Patrick at school. It’s part of my pretentious writer persona, rather than my obedient schoolboy persona. Very different people.

              And I’ve not written a post about it but I may…

            2. I can’t even think of you as James Casey.
              Wait. Hang on maybe I can.
              ….
              Nah. You is James Patrick Casey. YAY!
              You’re scaring me. Are you standing up now? Do you write lying down? OMG.

            3. All will be revealed in a post shortly, dear Z, all will be revealed.

              I don’t really think of my names as one big thing, if that makes sense – to some people I’m Casey, to a few I’m James, but I’ve not been James Casey or James Patrick Casey all at once.

            4. *serious face* you take care of yourself, JPC.
              I see what you mean. It’s like…it’s like a bag of smarties? All these colours – different ones; different names/combos? Rubbish comparison but I get you.

            5. OH WAIT
              YEAH

              Right James. What can we give you to nom? What can you nom?
              Cauliflower?

            6. GOOD KID.
              DES LÉGUMES SONT GOOOD. (I take advantage of the fact you’re more proficient than I am in French way too much; I lob words around way too often.)

            7. Tsk tsk. You’ve got to be better than me. I still can’t jam the conditional tense into my brain goo.

            8. This is the part where you link it here and I try to pretend this never happened.

              (Basically I’ve failed to find it. Cough cough.)

            9. (I REMEMBER NOW.)

              I knew it really. I was just testing you. You know, to see if you knew. Quite generous of me, I know. Of course I know! I know everything.
              Of course you’re welcome.

            10. Very wrong indeed. I’ll (be my usual nice self and) forgive you.
              HAHAAHAHA

            11. Did homework which I failed to complete during the day – started at a stupid 12:30. Thought I’d bounce into WordPress.

              And you’re awake because……
              If it’s bloodborne…

            12. Wait you still have homework? When in the Hell does school end these days?

              Wait you’re doing homework at 12:30? That’s quite admirable, but I’d have probably chucked in the towel and gone for a 7am on-the-bus job instead. Although that might be lazy-ass uni James talking, as opposed to good student James from a few years ago talking.

              And no, I’m playing Cycling Manager while watching a Let’s Play of Persona 4. Because my life > your life

            13. It’s just maths. Homework. Every day. (My fault; I upped the load too.)
              Meh not admirable. Should’ve done it earlier.
              Cycling Manager? Is this some variation of Football Manager?
              *weeps* I FEEL SO SMALL. Right I need a pair of platforms..wedges..anything. Books, even.

            14. You maths. You very maths.

              And it’s the same idea – manage a sports team instead of controlling the athletes – but not made by the same people.

              Maybe you can hop. Repeatedly. And really high.

            15. *breathes geometric sequences*
              Oh wow. But wouldn’t it be better to get involved play-wise in the game? Idk. I’m just thinking about FIFA now. My brother and j had this conversation recently and we both kind of thought about getting the feel of playing.
              Hop. Jump. I’ll do it all. Oh God I’m getting memories of high jump now. This year I did awfully. Kept landing on the actual bar. Forget hitting it off. Grr.

            16. If you’re the manager you are in control of more aspects of the team, but just the running-about-on-the-pitch bit. You have harder decisions to make, and so the consequences, both successes and failures, are much more powerful.

              And I loved high jump – it make me feel like I could do a backflip, even though I never had a hope in Hell.

            17. Your enthusiasm is fantastic 😀

              :O YOU COULD DO THE FOSBURY FLOP. DAHELL ITS BEEN THREE YEARS AND IM STILL RELYING ON A COMBO OF LONG ISH LEGS AND SCISSOR KICKS TO GET OVER.

            18. I’m going to blog about this at some point.
              Shit just got personal.

              God.
              I..I know. But come on. It’s so hard.

            19. XD
              Right-ho!
              And on that note I shall slip off to SleepVille – stock up on ma zzzzzs.

              James, you ought to sleep too!

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