The Day I Thought About Graffiti

I'm not 100% sure which motorway it's on, or whereabouts... but there used to be this graffiti on a fence in a field on the side of - I think - the M40 coming into London that said "Why do I do this every day?" in big letters. This graffiti has now been painted over with more graffiti that says, among other things "sweaty bollox". I'm not particularly impressed by this; I liked the old graffiti - it was in really simple letters, the only thing on this fence, facing all the commuting traffic, and I liked to imagine that it was painted by, perhaps, a banker who drove into London every day to work 9-5 in a big office, then back out again to his comfortable home in Buckinghamshire, until one night he just couldnt take his mundane, anonymous life anymore, so crept out into the field one night, tie blowing loose in the wind, to paint his angst for everyone to see. Then perhaps he would have run away to an Indonesian island, to sit in a hammock sipping a cocktail, thinking of all the commuters left behind to look at his reminder of their monotonous lives. OR I thought it was painted by a young graffiti artist who wanted to impress on the commuters that there are other, more anarchic, ways of living, but that they too will result in the same monotony. It could go either way.

Today I talked to middle-aged people about my life at uni. It wasn't particularly interesting. I have an intense dislike of talking to people that I feel I can't relate to; annoyingly this seems to happen quite a lot.

The Day I Got Called Fundamentally Lonely (Just Like Everyone Else)

So today there have been two things of note. Well, not exactly of note, but two things that I fancy talking about. (Lots of other things have occurred in my life since my last blog post, but maybe I'll save them for later).

Firstly, tonight I went to see a comedy show in Ruislip - that famous centre of comedy - with Paul Foot. I'd never heard of him before, by my hopes rose when I saw a slideshow of "Unknown Paul Foot Facts" on a projector before he came on; for example, my favourite was "Paul Foot is capable of love. Tragically, though, he is one day fated to die." I also liked the fact that his first piece involved questionnaires and venn diagrams, and the second revolved around complaining that Jesus wasnt a very good carpenter, and that, being the son of God who had spent most of his life as a carpenter, he should really have contributed more to the field of carpentry, such as the "Jesus Join".

However, he then went on to talk about how we are all fundamentally lonely and that relationships are nothing more than two lonely people deciding to stay with each other in order to briefly (but, in the case of relationships, consistently) quell their loneliness. He also then picked on me, as an example of how (his words) a "very attractive lady with lovely hair will go home later and sit in front of the mirror and realise how lonely they are." This was followed by an amusing joke about texting, but whatever. In short, he was a good comedian, if you like a certain type of humour, but he also made me feel a little bit... uncomfortable? I'm not sure that's the right word, but it was a bittersweet experience. Personally I go to comedy shows to try and forget about bad things in life, not to be reminded how we are, naturally, lonely.

Anyway, the second thing of note that I saw today was a card in Clintons that said "Sympathy on the loss of your mum". This card made me feel a little bit angry. I just can't see how sending that card could ever be a good thing... I found out a little while ago that one of my close friends' mum is dead, and the thought of giving them that card is a little bit sickening. Firstly because if your mum has just died, receiving that is not going to make the blindest bit of difference - that is one of the worst things I can imagine happening, and getting something as twee and commercial as that would just seem to be almost an insult. But as well as the fact that this pale blue card with it's italicised writing could never improve the life of the person that you might send it to, how could it ever sum up how you feel about their loss? Without wanting to sound overly dramatic, the wave of compassion and heartache that I felt when I found out about my friend could never be expressed simply with the words "sympathy" on a mass-produced card. Arhhh... I'm not sure why it made me so angry, but I really hate that card, and anything like it.

PS. Apologies for the fact this is quite badly written, I don't seem to have my head in the right place for writing tonight.

The Day I Got Up At 4.30pm

I'm not really sure why I'm writing this blog, seeing as nothing in particular has happened recently. As you can see, today I didnt get up until the slightly ridiculous time of 4.30 in the afternoon; I'm not sure why, as I wasnt exactly tired, I just didnt have any energy to get up. Maybe I had an anaemia attack... Jim and Louiza have been pestering me to get tested for anaemia, as it is highly likely that I have it. When I visit Jim in easter his mum may be giving me a test, as she's a nurse, which could be a little odd - "Hi Mrs Jim's mum, nice to meet you, would you like to steal my blood now or later?"

Mmm so today I have done very little apart from watch some Gossip Girl with Lela, which is a terrible, yet terribly addictive programme about the "lives of Manhattan's elite". Then I read an article about Marxism, which was dull to read yet interesting as a whole I suppose. I often find that with my degree readings - I'm really interested by the topics as a whole, but the articles or books or whatever themselves are always a struggle to get through. Need it be like this?! I think I might start a revolution of writing in a format that is actually readable and exciting. How Marxist of me. It followed on quite well actually, as I watched The Motorcyle Diaries with Jim last night, which is one of my favourite films, and is about a roadtrip that Che Guevara took before he was famous. Basically follows their journey across South America, subtly showing the different things he saw on the way that influenced his later life. There's one scene in particular, when him and his friend are sat in Macchu Pichu, and his friend is talking about his plan to democratise the country and lead a revolution via voting, and Che says something like "dont be silly, as if you could start a revolution without gunshots". Mmm, great film.

Makes me think about all these idealistic aspirations I used to have, imagining that in the future I'd be able to change the world. I think a part of me still wants to do that, but perhaps now in a different way. When I was younger I only had things like that film to inspire me, but I've been reading so much more now, and learning more, and I know now that revolution just isnt really possible anymore, or worthwhile. It'd be nice to make the world a better place, but you have to be pragmatic. If every country in the world was communist, and we had ways to protect against corruption, then maybe it would work and we could have a wonderful egalitarian society. But thats just not possible; to make something happen you have to work within institutions and structures. Anyway, basically now I'm considering working for the UN or something when I finish university. I dont think I'd be satisfied with my life unless I knew that I'd at least attempted to make a difference in some way... even if it's eventually futile.

Mmmkay, bye.