If knowledge is dangerous, I met a dangerous man.

I think I've mislead people a bit. I didn't have a dangerous night out. I drank a large amount and missed my bus home, but that's the limit to the practical experiences. The reason I said "I'm trying to figure out what happened" is because I have found myself in a situation that I am still trying to understand. Let me explain.

I hate Indie people. They are all the same: pretentious and backstabbing. But I met a high school dropout with asymmetric hair and pinstriped jeans who talked to me about Kafka. He's been a father for a year and he got onto the Creative Writing BA with no A-Levels. He shoplifted from the Co-Op and gave me a flapjack.

I haven't been able to explain how this event made me feel. It's shaken me up far more than the drinks we knocked back. All of a sudden I felt as if I was alive like I hadn't been for years - and riding on the back of that was the painful rediscovery of just how woefully inadequate I am.

I've tried so hard to submerse myself, to destroy myself, to chip away at all the differences so that I could be happy and stupid and normal. I've been around stupid people so long, I've forgotten how it feels to be intelligent.

Sell out.

And in proper Alice fashion, I failed on all fronts. I am not happy and stupid and normal, and happy normal people - though stupid - possess several faculties that I could only wank to. One of those is an ability to shun the heathen nonbeliever, no matter how cleverly she disguises herself; even if she makes herself believe the lie, they can sense the falsity beneath it. So I debased myself for nothing.

Another realization is how frightfully bourgeoisie I am. What hypocrisy, thinking I was different from my parents because I didn't laugh at the fags on TV. I've swallowed People's conformism so completely even while I congratulated myself on my liberality.

Fucking hell. I feel like I'm thirteen again and growing hair in peculiar places.

Another realization is how impossibly terrible my 'art' is. There's not a weak enough word for it. It's just bad. This, of course, made me very very depressed. Because if you add a+B, my art is the only thing I've got to stop me from being 16 again and doing that thing.

I'm not entirely discouraged, though. I've known for a very long time that all was not well in Artform land. Maybe I can fix this busted engine, and even if the tires give out halfway down the hill you're a damn sight closer to Vegas.

Ignorance is my problem.

a) Lack of technical ability b) lack of life experience c) lack of knowledge.

These are my problems, and I'm about to try fixing them.

I have to be careful, though: exams are coming up, and although I am respectfully resigning from the Established Order of Things School of Thought, those people have something I want from them. Not shiny new sofas and cosmetics that fill a hole: I'm done with that shit - sick of giving blowjobs and getting jizz in my mouth. I need to get to Oxford. There might be people there who can broaden my mind, help me develop into someone thinking, breathing, living - if not feeling, which is impossible - but thinking, yes, half a fish is better than none.

I truly am disgusting. I can't believe I've been wallowing in my own filth for so long. Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm caught between Stalin and Hitler; no-one, no matter how long his shoes or how high his hair, can tell me how to live and think and breathe. Not now. Not again. Being discerning, reserved and cynical has never been the problem. I will take it or leave it. The important thing is I know now how unambitious and frankly plebeian I have been.

He wasn't interested enough to seek to convert me. It was just meeting him, someone so supremely different that has affected me so intensely. It's shocking, meeting someone with brains. This is, after all, The University of Easy Access.
We'll have to see if the feeling will fade.

Therefore I have to ask you all to be patient with me if I don't seem like myself. Rest assured that I am closer to being Alice than you have ever known me.


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"YOU KNOW WHATS MORE OBNOXIOUS THAN UPPERCASE BOLD TEXT? MY PENIS" - !boobies09

"Headsets make people feel like self-important assholes, they want to be able to yell at
people over the phone while making obscene hand gestures." - ~xxxrollingsuicidexxx

"And you're the shocking result of sentient afterbirth." - `votemark

~brainwurms: Is Twilight a chick flick?
*deshrubber: No, that's just a bad movie.

"Sitting in a tree.
T-R-O-LL-I-N-G
First comes love
Then comes marriage
Then comes @Prince-Charles with a thread lock message" - *Lumysaara



Watchers features.

~NocturnalDarkness