Friends, "Summer" and why all of my Plans are, indeed, Mythical.

So I graduate (again) in 3 days, and that has nothing to do with my complete abandonment of my blogs and whatever audience I have (are those crickets I hear?). It has however brought to the fore a question that I never thought I would have problems with. It also has everything to do with what I will face this upcoming "summer", and by extension the work of mythology which seem to be my plans. These and more may be brought to you in the most wordy, round-about, and me-ish way I can manage in the following paragraphs.

"Who are my friends now?" 

I've been at this institution for 7 years, admittedly much of those were the best years of my life. They could be said to be the best years of my life not because of the institution's propensity to generate good times, but because of people. People. Many of which I would love to call my friends. So, I have many friends, I think. Yet, I doubt.

I doubt because, well, I've been somewhat a loner this year. I feel as if I've gone through this year with almost the minimum requirement of interaction with my year group. I can't quite explain it, but for some reason, entering this my ultimate year, I just never belonged... or at least I never felt like I did. This, of course, is probably a byproduct of my adolescence in that my predominant "crisis" is the struggle between the need to stand out and the need to fit in, "Identity vs Role Confusion" as Erik Erikson would put it.

It came up, you see, as I asked myself whether or not I should go to graduation dinner (which I didn't). The more I tried to think about whether or not it was worth it, the more I felt a looming "loneliness". It was as if that is how I've become accustomed to feeling within my own graduating class. Lonely. I'm still not sure if I made a correct decision here as even a certain mandevillegirl seemed to have enjoyed herself, with "good company". But then she, and most people, seem to have the privilege of knowing who her friends are. People like that, more often than not, find good company.

Now don't get me wrong, for the most part I do know my friends... but there are times I feel like an outsider looking in; or in extreme cases, an intruder. And before the movements of my previously concrete "group" of friends in the general direction of "away" there was more a feeling of belonging. I know what friendship feels like, and this entire year that feeling has been a bit too scarce.

"Summer(?)"

I start working the day after graduation. "Work" as in actual paid labour, for an employer, on a consistent basis, is something I have NEVER done (yup, I'm a bum... sad, but true) I'm not dreading it or anything, just saying. Now as someone who does external examinations, technically my Summer started from the 14th of June. However between graduation practice and prefect responsibilities it hasn't felt like Summer... except the heat. So with that in mind, neither will working daily from 7:00am... So I ask the pseudo-philosophical question: If it looks like Summer, feels like Summer and sounds like Summer but doesn't feel like Summer, then is it Summer? 

Yes. 

This Summer is different, you see. With this Summer officially ends my career as a high school student. Well.. Sunday being graduation actually ends my career as a high school student... but I wont feel like a university student till I don my ID, trod across the campus with more sq. mileage than my town, and sit in my first hopeless class. 

So it is Summer. Just of a different kind. I believe life will change after this, so the build up can be a bit different as well. 

"I am to Plans as Homer is to The Odyssey"

I have come to the realization that if I want to do something I better not plan to. It sounds sad. It is. As you may remember, I had a good amount of stellar plans for my undertaking this Summer. If you don't then take a look-see (noting that "Where is Mellisa?" has passed, and adding "A Heritage Story" to the list of plays I need to write). So therefore "The Death of a Don", "A Heritage Story" and even preparation for the yet unnamed writing BLOG blog have yet to even begin to be things that I am actually doing this summer. 

Alongside this fact, it has been proven again and again with Fairytale that whatever I plan doesn't happen. End of Story. So basically I'm filling my head with works of mythology, fallacy... lies?. I hope not, and I don't exactly plan to, but somehow I'm gonna get to those things. 

So basically, as usual, my problems are minute and generally don't concern anyone else, and pale in comparison to the actual physical, psychological and real woes faced by even my peers... but then It wouldn't be impulseprose without that would it? 

Continuing to ask the real (unimportant) questions,

-Me

It's About Time

I haven't written in a while... Well I tried a few days ago, and that didn't go well. And with my track record a poem in drafts might as well be deleted. I liked the idea though and I may try again. Anyways, I don't remember how I usually start impulseprose blogposts and I think I need to make a standard opening like a mandevillegirl I know. Or not... meh.

I don't really have a theme or idea for this post. Though I hope as I write I fall into some deep quasi-philosophical and almost poetic musing as to some meaning or understanding of time. I mean, that is what I do. Isn't it? Or share some Summer plans with my handful of readers across like 2 or 3 parishes (which actually might be a problem with at least one of my Summer plans). Or write about everything I've wanted to write about all of last month, but didn't... for some reason that I'm not quite *cough *exams*cough* sure about. Well, in hindsight let's not do the latter, that sounds like a long, long post, or a short one; depending on my memory. So I'm still pretty undecided as to the subject of this post. So it will be a strange ride from here on.

Talking about indecision: that, I have decided, is my most definitive trait. (Excuse the irony of that sentence) I mean I have been described as many things, and the only thing I know myself to be 100% of the time is indecisive. I get around it by not being picky most of the time, so I can function. Since most daily decisions are basically inconsequential in my opinion.
"What are yo gonna eat for breakfast?" umm idk.. I'll just skip breakfast I guess.
"Where are we going?" haha, when you know me long enough, you don't ask questions like that. "When are you going to actually talk to your mother about you suddenly changing your career path in the last part of the last year of high school and which university are you going to go to in order to pursue this goal and..." ... 
You can see where that sort of attitude can fall apart when the consequences of not choosing isn't minor discomfort a few minutes before lunch or aimless walking... I believe that if there is anything which will be detrimental to me in the so called "real world" (though I pretty much know that we are in the "real world"... adulthood isn't a door into a different kaleidoscope from the one us kids look through... same world, different stakes I guess) it will be my indecisiveness. I should work on that.

So yeah. I'm currently I'm on the verge of Summer. Two exams left, that I've technically studied for already. I spent most of my last 3 days watching movies. (I strongly recommend The Grand Budapest Hotel to anyone who doesn't consider a good fight scene the making of a movie) And like ever Summer it stats with two things. Me forgetting to get a job and my parents' anniversary. The former is saddening but not particularly interesting, so let's discuss the latter.

My parents have been married for 25 years today. 25 years. That is a very impressive milestone, so firstly, I congratulate them. It dawned on me a few minutes ago that to my knowledge I don't have many friends who's parent are both married and have been married longer than their children have been alive. That says something. Marriage seems to be a dying institution, well, at least lasting marriage does, and this makes 25 years hella impressive. So this Saturday they will be celebrating with a renewal of vows (for which I will unfortunately have to see my barber...) and being the endest/only Son I'm going to have to deliver a toast... and for once I know what I'm going to say.

Greatly dwarfed by the gargantuan quarter of a century, this coming Sunday I will be in a relationship myself for a quarter of a year.... haha... Hear, Hear.

This coming summer is intrinsically special, I guess. By the end of it I'll be moving out of my parent's house... in a way. I'll be dependent on them in a few way's still but not in many that I've been up to this point. Definitely one of those milestones I guess, though I'm still unsure what after-summer will bring. Or what during-summer will bring. I have plans, but my plans are generally about as good as my decision making, so you can see why I may be a bit worried.

At least I know my during and after Summer hairstyle... which is basically uncut. So I look forward to breaking more combs

So yes, I've written a blog post about  nothing in particular, and It's about time I closed it.
-Me

As April Winds Down

I will start by saying this has been my best month, much less April, in recent memory. Of course school still sucks, but I've come to the conclusion that upon entering upper sixth form you are destined to yearn for nothing more that being finished with high school. High school, as we all might have realised, is bullshit; each school is just a different bull. Otherwise, however life has been grand.

Now some context:

It's currently 5:31 am on a Saturday. I am awake and writing at 5:31 on a Saturday. Early to bed, early to rise... would have been applicable if I hadn't woken up before 3:00 and gone to bed after 11:00 (which admittedly is regarded as early for me) So why am I up? I have no idea.

I'm writing however because I have had so many things to write about this month that I just haven't written, which is of course a horrible train of thought and course of action. So I'm taking the time out to mitigate that and try out the words once more. In all honesty, the only thing I've written this entire month is Synesthesia, Fairytale's fist official poem. (A little bit on what actual Synesthesia is... for context.) Though as I think about it, I've spent so many hours doing internal assessments this month I probably shouldn't be so hard on myself. Anyways, I'm rambling...

As April winds down I (and for most of the readers I know.... we) enter into our exam period. My first exam is the week after next (it's still Saturday, it is not next week yet) and as much as I am a firm believer in #FuckCarib, I intend to pass it, might even try to pass it well, though I haven't even started studying for that yet. But the exam period is a special time for me. It is both my least and most productive time of the year. I assure you there is no idleness like exam-time idleness, and I've set the bar for idleness extraordinarily high this year. Even so, there is no other time that I sit and re-write my own revised editions of textbooks, as between now and the time June comes around I'd have mostly written more notes than I have all year thus far.

As April winds down I'm still in a cute relationship. In my 18 years of existence I do not think I have been apart of something this cute and I was in the children's choir as a child. I don't understand it, she doesn't understand it... but it is what it is. In Fairytale's words "C'est la vie". However I've learnt that the happier I become the more cautious I should be. Time has repetitively shown that a Happy Michael is a Careless Michael, and I'm a science student, I'm taught not to ignore trends like this. So after a month, a week and four days I sit in the silence of early morning birdsong contemplating the L word...

As April winds down the beyond high school approaches. Oh how I look forward to graduating... or not graduating, whatever the case may be. However I remain in the dilemma of looking forward to a future I haven't exactly decided on yet. What exactly are you doing after Summer 2014, Michael? My father dumped some stuff on me yesterday: Jamaica/[insert country here] Bilateral scholarships. Cuba, Russia, China, OAS... and even this thing on Sweden. Now it may sound a bit late to be doing this but these opportunities are still open. It's a bit sad to say that going away to study has always been an experience I've looked forward to, even though I've made zero steps to achieve it, but now it seems daunting, and for what would be seen as a shitty reason. Whatever you do the future will meet you and in many ways you determine the nature of the meeting.

So basically, as April winds down the same matters that troubled me in March trouble me now, I just have 1 less month to contemplate the urgent ones. A friend of mine believes that if you refuse to reflect, you refuse the opportunity to grow... well, for all the reflection I do I seem to grow very little. Excuse my misuse of the french but C'est cannot be la vie...

-Me

"Ah fuck, April"

So it hit me today, and when I say hit I mean a sudden, painful and quite badly timed realisation, that April is upon me, or upon us. Now April is of significance for a few reasons. To most of us here in the Caribbean it's the month before all those good ol' external exams begin, when Internal Assessments are due and you realise you haven't started shit yet. That I am very much guilty of, every year... However for me it has a bit more personal significance... of the "why the fuck am I such a sentimental piece of shit" variety.

You see it started 4 fucking years ago... FOUR... April 7th, when a girl who wasn't my friend yet was killed by her father. I will go no further with that, except to say that I don't deserve to mourn for a girl who wasn't my friend yet if her friends have learnt to deal with her absence. I don't deserve to, yet every April, I somehow am propelled into this phase of pathetically sad bitchiness (or bitchy, pathetic sadness?) under the guise of mourning. Guise because it's selfish, just my relentless need for people and the thought that I lost one before I had the chance to gain her in the first place. Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

Then secondly, you remember a certain petite girl right? About yeah tall, small frame, I wrote several very bad poems after she left me, alongside a few rants on good ol' impulseprose? Yeah, her. Well she was a timing maestro, as if she had calculated the best time to pretty much wreck me. She abandoned me on Sunday, April 7, a day I stayed at home because I just couldn't deal hoping my Seventh Day Adventist girlfriend would be of some solace... and then she left me the day after. Something about me being boring and depressing. So yeah... that was a good 4 months... Thank God for Summer, Dempster and Fairytales.

But this post isn't to talk about those incidents. Because honestly they really aren't the real reason for this shitstorm that is my mood currently, and may continue to be my mood for a while. These things are basically what I call "excuses". They are events that validate, to some extent, my self destructive behaviour.

I have spoken about, in the past, the concept of an inner masochist. The deep need or want we apparently have to punish ourselves for things. ( I guess I can only talk for myself to be honest, so the "we" should be "I" and the "ourselves", "myself". ) I accelerate that urge. I find a reason, a correlation, an event, anything and I go to town on it.

Now I'm pretty sure it's evident that I do believe in Love... as a thing, that is important. However, a certain petite girl postulated that I am intrinsically incapable of expressing Love, whatever it is, because I (in her opinion) don't love myself. I couldn't answer at the time because I wasn't sure if I did, and I still don't know if I do.

And that scares me.

It scares me because I don't wan't to lie to someone I care about. Especially not about something that important. There are things I want to say and fucking mean it. It's the day after two weeks with Fairytale and 8 days from the apex of my excuses. And she has done nothing to deserve me in this shitstorm state. Because the strange thing about caring about someone is that you can't watch them suffer. So I'm not even just torturing myself... and then the circle of self loathing makes another turn.

In truth though, I'm glad I'm not soloing through this: couldn't ask for  better girlfriend right now.
-Me

March 15: Performance and Direction

So yesterday Where is Melissa? came to fruition. Quite frankly it shot passed faster than I could have imagined... I was surprised to find out the run time was almost 2 hours. That however is how these things are. Our perception of time is dependent on the amount of time we have perceived. I've gone through what? 3 months of Where Is Melissa? so what the hell is 2 hours in comparison?

However as a performance, I believe ii was stellar. There were mistakes, but we worked around them. We put out everything we had on that stage, and I do feel the urge to declare the Where Is Melissa? premier a massacre, 'cause we all killed it. However I'll have to wait till tomorrow for the director's words on that matter.

In productions like this however I cannot overlook the importance of performance and direction. Performers are the medium through which the idea trapped in a script or some guy's head will be released to the world. Their performance will determine the reception of these ideas. Without performers a play is just literature, and while literature has magnificence and power in itself, performance is the art of giving life to that power and magnificence, and plays are in a way one of the only literary forms which allow this without hindrance (we have all been disappointed by book-inspired movie at least once in our lives). Even more interesting is that quality performance depends as much on the literature as it does the performer. If a character is badly written, it doesn't matter how well you play him/her... he/she is still a bad character.

However there lies yet another mediation between script/idea and the world: direction. Performers, as good as they may be, need direction. I assure you that if a bunch of world class performers were given a script and told "act" you would get something ranging from shitty to decent. What you would not get however is excellence. Direction offers the possibility of excellence in performance. Through (good) direction the performers are molded and set, their understanding of their roles and characters is deepened and broadened., understanding of the performance space is improved. In the end, you have performers uniquely tuned for that specific performance. That is where excellence comes from...

Yesterday, I believe there was plenty of performing excellence, however the hand of the director cannot be overlooked.

So with that said, me and Fairytale are a thing now.

With Nocturnal Fervour
-Me

The Future: Near and Far

I'm writing here more regularly... I have no idea if that's particularly good. I mean I'm 100% sure I have more constructive things to do; but anyways. We have lengths of thought to cover.

I realize that I've reached the stage where thinking about the future is not only important, but it's importance is greatly highlighted and stressed. I have the tendency however not to contemplate the future at all. You see I have learnt to keep myself quite busy, so busy that everything is done on the basis of urgency instead of importance. Today, though, is a bit different. Today the future spoke to me a little bit. It informed me that I was accepted by UTECH for Computer Science.  Now like any acceptance letter recipient I was quite happy... but upon thinking about this and the decisions surrounding it I realized the potency of the choices ahead of me. In the process however it wasn't only the far future that I looked into but also the closer future.

So I shall start there:

It's the Final Week. Yes. Where Is Melissa? is THIS WEEK. I'm so excited? So exhilarated? Actually right now I'm mostly exhausted. As in, I've been tired before. Actually I've been tired for a very long time. However the exhaustion of this production is now at it's peak - I've been tired for like two weeks now. However, as it usually is when acting, it's the good tired. I know that there will be nothing in recent memory more satisfying than KILLING this show on Saturday; and I strongly believe the rest of the cast knows this as well. So I will ensure that every time I touch the stage on the coming night, there is a funeral to plan.

And Saturday isn't just about this production, which has consumed most of my energy and being over the past few weeks (or months?). It's also about everything this production has brought into my life... including dear Fairytale... This Saturday SHALL (and has to) be a day of fruition.

And just in case you haven't completely believed me about this whole production:

The Show Must Go On!

So why did this acceptance letter cause so much reflection? Well, as much as I love Comp. Sci. I am a science student for a reason: I have planned up to this point to be a doctor. Now while I love both somewhat equally, Medicine is admittedly a greater achievement, however not exactly a greater opportunity. In my eyes Comp. Sci. is everything. Medicine, Finance, Manufacturing, Industry... In some way or another those and more are all to some extent Computer Science. It's scope is endless. 

Then even though I've put a lot of energy into this whole Med aspiration the more I think about it the scarier and worse as an investment it sounds. Firstly it's 5 more years of school (not counting the years of internship) at a hefty price of $2.8million a year (well.. i can possibly get a huge subsidy that drops hat to $600,000... and I must if I actually pursue the course.) So 5 years of difficult, round the clock and calendar work. As in after the First Year, I would be looking at 1 week of Christmas and abut 3 weeks of summer... added to this is the fact that the time this course demands makes it nearly impossible to do much else. Which is in fact my greatest fear. I can no longer, after the past 7 years, attend a school and do solely "school". I simply can't and the thought of doing that for the next 5 years is terrifying.

So I really want to do med... but the more I think about it the more like a question it sounds... Do I really want to do med? 

I really can't answer that. But sooner or later I will have to. 

Walk Good,

-Me

  

Looking Up: Some Positivity for Once.

So my last post was pretty negative and the overarching situation still stands, however it's about time I brought some positive vybes to impulseprose, so I'm gonna try my best to focus on everything good that is happening and has happened in my life recently (in no particular order). Lets Go.

1. DRAMA CLUB WEDDING DID SHEEELLL!!!! I mean I was really surprised at how well we pulled it off with close to zero practice. All I can say is improvisation is a beautiful, beautiful thing. It wasn't perfect. We started late and the food sharing was grossly inefficient, and as a result we had no actual reception. However all in all it was a success, even financially (which is a thing we have struggled with in the past) So yeah, as I said, the club's failures are my failures and the club's successes are the club's successes, and Friday's Drama Club Wedding was definitely the club's success. (Photos will be posted, they will be hype)

2. "Jamaica Hour" was actually enjoyable. I mean that's wholly because of the brilliance of a certain Theatre Arts teacher, she is nothing short of a savant really. The choice of MC was stellar, the items (for the most part) were of uniquely high quality and offered both high cultural and entertainment value (I mean a little girl preached from the scriptures of Alligator Pond 1:1 to the end. I was in tears), there were a few (MANY) hiccups and as assistant stage manager I was doing more running up and down than enjoying the show, but in the end it was a program well done. Amazing what people can do even under such grave conditions.

3. Where Is Melissa? is nearing call time. We have exactly 13 days till production. I wont speak much on it; but the experience is still quite surreal. I mean its not all rainbows and sweet perfume, we have gotten a lot of "cuss out" and we are still not anywhere near where we need to be. But all the same I can see it. Yes. I. Fucking. See. It. And I sincerely hope everybody else sees it too, unless they will get discouraged, because what I see is pretty spectacular. D-Day: March 15th.

4. I haven't been to Carib or Physics class in like 2 weeks. I don't know if this is truly positive, but it definitely feels good.

5. I'm apparently a person of interest in my school biome? Though I doubt being roumored about makes one a person of interest but hey, a niggs can dream. So there's a certain former jailbait that came to my school this school year, and I guess we basically hit it off pretty immediately, we're pretty much alike, and worlds apart. I tend to be close to my female friends (physically and otherwise) and that increases to the extent of how close I'm safely allowed to go. The consequence of this? Everybody now swears we are a couple. Now I have no problem with this, it's a recurring theme in high school life the romantic speculation, the belief that apparently platonic relationships are either inferior to or just less interesting than romantic ones... It's all natural. The immaturity about it however is bordering hilarious. I'll watch where it goes.

6. Finally: Romantic Interest? So as you here at impulseprose should know from Introductions......  I suck at relationships (and not in the good way), and since this blog started pretty much in the wake of a dead one, ya'll are pretty much up-to-date with my life in that regard since then... specifically that my life has not had that regard since then. Or since about 3 weeks ago. Now I don't mention names here for several reasons, and since the last SO alias was "a certain petite girl" I shall now dub thee... "Fairytale"  (She will read this, she will get this... she will smile). So 3 weeks ago the fairy tale started when she asked for my number. Yes. I was the prey. NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I BEEN PREY (and if I understand correctly neither does she particularly hunt). There it began, and in the most bizarre growth of a relationship I've ever been apart of, 3 weeks later, having talked about everything from literature to equal oral sex rights and quite a few things in between I sit here calling her Fairytail. This is reckless as fuck, emotionally and I know I'm a sentimental so this will either actually put some life into me (which I need) or drain it all out. So it must be by magic that I know this and still look forward to taking the gamble.

So yeah, I guess my life isn't all New Tie problems and fuckery. I need to learn how to look up every now and then...

-Me