"Unexpected" pt.1
My box room doesn't seem so small tonight, all my lights are off, the only illumination is from the light of the laptop in my face. With the air conditioner it feels like I could be outside, absorbing the fresh air and chilling with the sounds of my ipod.
I don't actually know what I'm doing awake, I have to get up in 5 hours for work, but I have a good day tomorrow, some regular clients so I shouldn't yawn too much. If I do have to, I'll reserve it for the ones with glasses, sit by their side and yawn in their blind spot.
I have to scroll down a little because I can't write seriously while I'm staring at a picture of myself from 7 years ago with a towel on my head.
There we go. So what's up? Trying to sort out my future is one thing. I was seriously interested in taking a photography course for one year, learning the basics of still image beauty and then transpose that experience into the moving image and making every frame count as a opportunity for beauty.
That's a point, I'm so overly obsessed with aesthetics, it's always been a thing of mine. I like things that are beautiful, in whatever form, it doesn't have to be visual.
One of my clients today warmed my heart with her adorable cuteness. She's 28, four years older than me, yet I can still want to hug her so tight for just being so innocent to the cruelties of the world. I admire people like that, not look down on their ignorance.
I was raised in an almighty shithole, well I lie, my home and the view from my window was a sanctuary. I had a view of London's largest forest and my home itself remarkably maintained the wedding cake decor that lined the ceilings and fireplace. We even had a chandeliers. Chandeliers! So much for working class.
But we everywhere except for my little big forest and home were working class, and I didn't feel that way. It was not just an issue of class. I didn't know at 12 years old that I didn't fit in school the way I should (I was popular, but never satisfied) because of class, because at that age, race, class and such things are grown up people's insecurities and topics of debate. That 5'2" black guy and the kid with the turban were my best friends at various points.
But I'm slowly moving away from the topic. The topic was beauty. My life had beauty, but I didn't see it in the right places. Directly, in front of me, I saw school as ugly, my friends as superficial and therefore ugly (but good to pass the time) and only at home did I ever find peace with music that I was first corrupted by by my mother inadvertantly. Video games were another source of beauty for me, especially the amazingly presented Zelda, Ocarina of Time, and Final Fantasy VII. Here, I felt even character relationships were deeper than what I experienced in my life! Ridiculous as it may be to an adult mind, my young mind, with sounding too patronising from my adult perspective, absoluetly craved attention and a entry into beauty in the form of relationships and a rich and vibrant colour to my life.
But I had my mother. I'm forever grateful to her even though a lot of my insecurities I grew up with were a directly result of her influence on me. I mean this in the the best of sentiments. She literally raised me to be incompatible with those around me and seek something different, a different kind of conversation, a different set of moral and ethical codes. Because I was incompatible with everyone around me except on the base 'let's have a laugh!' way, I grew to be a kind of social loner, on the outsider I was cocky, confident James with a hilarious way of looking at things and behaviour. But in my own mind, I was an outsider, I didn't feel connected to anyone I met, I drifted from social circle to social circle with no sense of attachment, I desperately sought attachment but I never found it.
I eventually met it in the form of two people, Dan and Kay, in that order. One satisfied the guy side of me, one the woman-seeking side. I hope you can guess which. Kay was actually perfect for me when I first met her because I was anti-social, harboured many insecurities from my long periods of loneliness and was in a fantasically happy relationship that fulfilled my every desire in terms of gaining affection and attention from someone I saw as my equal. We mirrored each other, and that's what made it a great relationship to start with. But was with many couple, we grew into different people, I grew out of my anti-social shell and realised I was getting a new kind of sickness by relying to her as my only confidant and companion. I secretely wanted to try new things, meet new people, have new experiences, and do it alone, not with a companion that I had grown apart from because of various factors. So after a tragicomedy of a breakup that ended. But I kept Dan.
Dan is an odd man and difficult in words to sum up our relationship. It almost feels a diservice to attempt to describe what we are all about as a number of people such as Kay questioned how we're even friends in the first place given we are so remarkably different. So actually I won't even attempt as it seems a sacriledge. D+J is, and it will continue to be for quite some time I'm sure. The cacophony of girls screaming and panties throwing will forever be music to our ears and not something to be questioned. It just is.
I'm still getting my head around this concept of beauty I have. I'll get back to it. For now, I have reality to attend to, my head won't feel too good if I don't get snoozin' anytime soon.
/tbc.
I don't actually know what I'm doing awake, I have to get up in 5 hours for work, but I have a good day tomorrow, some regular clients so I shouldn't yawn too much. If I do have to, I'll reserve it for the ones with glasses, sit by their side and yawn in their blind spot.
I have to scroll down a little because I can't write seriously while I'm staring at a picture of myself from 7 years ago with a towel on my head.
There we go. So what's up? Trying to sort out my future is one thing. I was seriously interested in taking a photography course for one year, learning the basics of still image beauty and then transpose that experience into the moving image and making every frame count as a opportunity for beauty.
That's a point, I'm so overly obsessed with aesthetics, it's always been a thing of mine. I like things that are beautiful, in whatever form, it doesn't have to be visual.
One of my clients today warmed my heart with her adorable cuteness. She's 28, four years older than me, yet I can still want to hug her so tight for just being so innocent to the cruelties of the world. I admire people like that, not look down on their ignorance.
I was raised in an almighty shithole, well I lie, my home and the view from my window was a sanctuary. I had a view of London's largest forest and my home itself remarkably maintained the wedding cake decor that lined the ceilings and fireplace. We even had a chandeliers. Chandeliers! So much for working class.
But we everywhere except for my little big forest and home were working class, and I didn't feel that way. It was not just an issue of class. I didn't know at 12 years old that I didn't fit in school the way I should (I was popular, but never satisfied) because of class, because at that age, race, class and such things are grown up people's insecurities and topics of debate. That 5'2" black guy and the kid with the turban were my best friends at various points.
But I'm slowly moving away from the topic. The topic was beauty. My life had beauty, but I didn't see it in the right places. Directly, in front of me, I saw school as ugly, my friends as superficial and therefore ugly (but good to pass the time) and only at home did I ever find peace with music that I was first corrupted by by my mother inadvertantly. Video games were another source of beauty for me, especially the amazingly presented Zelda, Ocarina of Time, and Final Fantasy VII. Here, I felt even character relationships were deeper than what I experienced in my life! Ridiculous as it may be to an adult mind, my young mind, with sounding too patronising from my adult perspective, absoluetly craved attention and a entry into beauty in the form of relationships and a rich and vibrant colour to my life.
But I had my mother. I'm forever grateful to her even though a lot of my insecurities I grew up with were a directly result of her influence on me. I mean this in the the best of sentiments. She literally raised me to be incompatible with those around me and seek something different, a different kind of conversation, a different set of moral and ethical codes. Because I was incompatible with everyone around me except on the base 'let's have a laugh!' way, I grew to be a kind of social loner, on the outsider I was cocky, confident James with a hilarious way of looking at things and behaviour. But in my own mind, I was an outsider, I didn't feel connected to anyone I met, I drifted from social circle to social circle with no sense of attachment, I desperately sought attachment but I never found it.
I eventually met it in the form of two people, Dan and Kay, in that order. One satisfied the guy side of me, one the woman-seeking side. I hope you can guess which. Kay was actually perfect for me when I first met her because I was anti-social, harboured many insecurities from my long periods of loneliness and was in a fantasically happy relationship that fulfilled my every desire in terms of gaining affection and attention from someone I saw as my equal. We mirrored each other, and that's what made it a great relationship to start with. But was with many couple, we grew into different people, I grew out of my anti-social shell and realised I was getting a new kind of sickness by relying to her as my only confidant and companion. I secretely wanted to try new things, meet new people, have new experiences, and do it alone, not with a companion that I had grown apart from because of various factors. So after a tragicomedy of a breakup that ended. But I kept Dan.
Dan is an odd man and difficult in words to sum up our relationship. It almost feels a diservice to attempt to describe what we are all about as a number of people such as Kay questioned how we're even friends in the first place given we are so remarkably different. So actually I won't even attempt as it seems a sacriledge. D+J is, and it will continue to be for quite some time I'm sure. The cacophony of girls screaming and panties throwing will forever be music to our ears and not something to be questioned. It just is.
I'm still getting my head around this concept of beauty I have. I'll get back to it. For now, I have reality to attend to, my head won't feel too good if I don't get snoozin' anytime soon.
/tbc.