The shop is shut, please fuck off.

I've been so fixated on leaving Morrisons I often forget the reasons to why I am leaving.
They pop into my head and I get that excited feeling.
In a matter of months I will be in a room with people almost as cool as me, learning awesome stuff. I'll be living in Somerset too.
But in the excitement of these thoughts I then forget that I am leaving Buxton. This is not seen as a sad time, I can't say for sure what I will feel on the day I leave, but I'm happy about leaving.
There is nothing here anyway, obviously not including friends and family but even then my friends are off to their universities. After that though, there is little here. It's nice enough, I take it in often, just yesterday in fact when I was sat in the big bay windows upstairs at the Clubhouse and I got to over look all the luscious trees in the warm sun. The buildings are very pretty in this town too.
I can't help it, I'm attracted to change and new things.
I have no idea where I want to live when I grow up. Probably near the sea, but there is nowhere in the UK that I find appealing and by the sea. Actually, I can't think of anywhere in this country where I'd like to live, it's all so horribly British.
As I said, these are the thoughts that spend most the days suppressed by the giant that is me quitting my job.
I might cry when I walk out for the last time from pure elation. Emotional breakdown in the car park.
It really is that bad, for me anyway.

My favourite films have shifted again. The Dark Knight really is the best film of all time. It has everything in it that makes a great film great, and on top of that it has Batman.
I'll miss the Joker. All good things in my life end; Firefly, Heath Ledger's Joker, Third Eye Blind gigs - all good things.
This is my favourite bit of the whole film. This and the prologue.

Scarecrow, scarecrow, scarecrow.

Shit, that was a year ago?

I forget how sad Batman Begins is. Well, I find it really sad at points. Poor Bruce. Poor Rachel.

I've also forgotten to send some emails and letters. It's alright, I have time. I think...
Ah, it'll be right as rain.

I often daydream, today was no different. I was daydreaming about this person, and pretending we had been friends for ages. I forgot that this wasn't true and laughed at her.
It didn't seem awkward, for she seemed somewhat crazy herself.

One of my Google ads today is called Comic Con Fans Dating. It tells me Geek 2 Geek is the site for me.
What's worse, the internet deciding I am lonely, or the fact I find the girl in the picture hot.

Every little bit hurts.

Torn.
Tv is shite tonight, more than normal so I'm in hiding and can't decide what film to watch.
I finished The Dark Knight Returns earlier and thought I wanted Batman Begins, but then I thought I wanted The Dark Knight.
Now I am thinking Leon.
Each one stars Gary Oldman so whatever I chose, it'll be a winner.

Seems like only yesterday I was writing my weeks hours, and now it's all over until Monday.
It's been a killer. Caught up with me today, I got home, ate, slept, woke up, ate, read and now I am here and I want to sleep again.

I'm not getting up tomorrow until at least dinner time, I shall force the sleep on myself if needs be but I'm pretty sure that wont be necessary.

Good news. My sisters guinea pigs got taken to the vet to be put down.
It's good because it needed to happen. Their lives were just a sad and painful existence.
It's also sad that when people can't be bothered with pets they can just have them knocked off for a fee.
This is sorta the case this time round too. My sister didn't care about them no matter what she said. From day one she has been constantly been told to look after them, feed them and clean them out. She'd just go out and forget to feed them and wouldn't tell anyone to do it for her. She picked them up about three times. Despite this she still was adamant that she did actually want them and they weren't a hinderance.
Ignoring this though, putting them down was humane as they were covered in soars. I knew them were a bit patchy and had scabs but they just kept getting worse and I only noticed how bad when I was doing a sculpture outside and they would cry from pain all the time because they had to itch the soars.
I'm not a pet fan but it broke my heart. For a couple of weeks I took it upon myself to give them some love, tried to get them used to people and put some antiseptic on them. It was rewarding but they were not my responsibility and I have my own things to do.
This is why I don't want pets. I know that my attention span would fail them, and I wouldn't love them but find them an annoying waste of my resources.
Maybe this will change one day, say if I had a family, then I would already have roots and responsibility so a pet would fit in, right at home you could say. Even then, I still see myself with a fish or a tortoise.

Green shoes.

Twelve hours later, Dan returns home.
I knew I would be doing some extra hours, but a twelve hour day?!? Flew by though, Oven Fresh went faster than usual as I haven't done an early there for about a week, and FFPP flew by in minutes with it being new and there is always something to do.
Only did I feel the effects walking home and my legs felt like they were about to pop.
Now blood...yet.

Now I'm going to die in a corner with a curry and Batman. Then a beautiful bath is in order and then I shall sleep. I'd like to watch a film or some tv in bed but I'm sure I'll be too tired.

This was not at all a good post. Just a retelling of my day.
Oops.
I have learnt something, not everyone who works in a supermarket is a failure at life. Most people seem to be there because it's a job. They get the job and they are happy to have an income so remain there.
Everyone is nice there too, I will miss them. Not the managers, I look forward to my heartless goodbye to them.

My new book smells delicious.

I got round to watching The Jacket today. I've wanted to see it since before it came out in the cinema because I got some free advertising merchandise from the film.
It was good, I thought it may of been hit and miss, but it wasn't.
And it's a good film to compliment the recent Lost finale with time travel and alternate universes.
It set a good atmosphere for itself to begin with, made it feel like an old psychological thriller but then as it went on it threw in more modern takes.
And a happy ending for once, he died and remained in the future world. Or did he? Maybe he was actually crazy all along and nothing was true. All a figment of his broken imagination.
Like I said, complimented Lost greatly. That's good for me because I do sorely miss it.
I have nothing now, Lost is over forever, Deadliest Catch season is finished, True Blood season is finished. No Dexter, no CSI. Firefly...All I have at the moment is Castle.
One single hour of tv a week.

Growing up is still a surreal thing. Drinks last night with friends and we all talked about work, and careers. I feel like I should still be talking about these things like they are far off, but they are happening now.
There is no grand defining moments, it all just merges slowly together without any knowledge of it occurring.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. A childhood leading to no grand point of coming of age, but maybe I like it this way, how it just happens. Falls into place naturally.

Torn fantasies.

Nothing like walking home with a pizza.

My life though. The stress in this house is something. None of it mine, and none of it makes me stressed, it's just annoying how people make things hard for themselves and then because of that make it ten times harder.
House is being valued tomorrow, something about moving the mortgage. I don't listen to when people talk.
My room was fine, but my mum decided to clean it. I hate every inch of this room now.
Childish much? Extremely so.
I take pride in moving things back to where they belong and making things look lived in.
My whole room just looks dead and empty and void of character. Funny though because I have little to no sentiment about my room. It's confining and no longer represents who I am, but that said it is mine and it has been invaded.
I can't wait until I leave. A new room, new people, just new everything. I've wanted it for so long and now it is going to happen.
When I go I feel I will be a calmer person. Not that I am not a calm person now, I just have to vent my rage in silence and bite my tongue occasionally.
I look forward to the freedom in every sense of the word.

Pizza Girl.

I'm blatantly picking the right career. I flicked How It's Made on for some background tv this morning and of all the things it decided to show me special effects make up. Just making an elderly face.
They then said it takes a month of work and costs ten thousand euros. Sweet!


Bizarre ER is my new favourite. It's both gross and funny, suits me to a tee. 
And some of the reconstructions they do are priceless. I really, really want to make one. 



Now here is a song, completely different to Coma Girl. 

I was going through town to get some food.

I was thinking about whether to have pasta or pizza.

At first I got real dizzy with hunger and beer,

and then I saw the pizza girl and I knew what I wanted.

And the food came in from the wide blue yonder.

And through all the cheeses I wandered.

Pizza girl with parmesan and pepper,

she's the Mona Lisa of the pizzeria.

Pizza girl, Pizza girl!

Gosh, now I want pizza. Lucky for me, I'm going out for some right now! 

You don't know what you've Lost until it's gone.

Me legs are solid today, solid with aches. And I recently found some aches in my ribs. Not a clue to why this is so because it's not like I did any hard work the other evening. And last night was a walk to lie in the park.
Oh well.

I really need to rejuvenate my Sin City and Transmetropolitan piles and I also need to get the other two "Big Music" albums by The Waterboys.
Yet today I decided to sit in the sun and start reading The Dark Knight Returns again because it is truly beautiful. This then made me order the sequel to it and some other books so that when I finish it I can read DK2 while everything is fresh.
Not sure what to expect from it because never before has the comment mixed reviews been more fitting.

No more Lost for Dan. I loved it from the start, then by season three I was a creature of habit rather than love. Season five didn't get the attention it deserved from me because I used to sit on msn while watching tv and films. Now I don't, my sister has that role now. While on that subject, it would seem I taught her well, but not well enough because she fell out with her best friend about her best friends boyfriend (or for the younger audience, she fell out with her bff over her bff's bf). Post that drama, guess who has a boyfriend? My sister, and guess who it is? Her ex-best friends ex!
I had to laugh. I may of even said it wouldn't last. I can't help it, as I said, I find teenage life hilariously tragic.
But back to what matters, Lost.
Season six started with me thinking a weight would be lifted once it ended because it would be over and I wouldn't need to keep watching.
What a finale! I was hoping for ambiguity and unanswered questions but with it being such a phenomenon my brain did not think this would be so.
My hopes were rewarded big time. I called the final image and got it right, though it was pretty obvious as the show has a lot of eye opening in it, it started with Jack opening his eyes so of course it would only make sense for it to end with Jack closing his eyes.
The ending lead you towards certain answers but there are still a million blanks to fill in and think about. Like Ben. He was my favourite, after Charlie and Claire. Ben though, he was there in the sideways reality so does that mean he had died? He didn't go into the church though, so he might of still been alive. Hugo was in the Church though so that possibly means he was dead and if so I bet he gave the Island to Ben to look after. Nothing is clear cut, this is just one of the many theories I shall be thinking about and reading about on the internet for a while yet.

It was an emotional two hours for me, I think I cried when every couple got back together, especially Claire and Charlie. They are the cutest thing ever.
I'm also pleased that everything that happened did actually happen, that none of it was some dream or purgatory. Except for the sideways reality which is heavily indicated to be an after life.
Despite my mixed feelings for the show over the last six years, after that finale I am going to miss it lots. I just want to be in that happy place forever where everyone found each other and radiated warm feelings in every direction.

And I swear it shows

Heaven must be just like this

I love this song as it is, makes me thing of glorious, sunny days like this one. Or beautiful evenings like last night. It's endless sky and golden sun captured in a single song, but now it will also make me thing of that beautiful after life.

 

I wont call this "Park Life".

Work was sweaty but looking back I did absolutley nothing.

Home for a cold shower and frood grabbing before going to get merry in the park.

Was good times. Good company and good talks.

Football happened but my input was abuse/encouragement from the side lines.

Sadly, things petered out at ten and folk went home. I could of sat there all night.

Summer is young.
But when I think about it, it's going to be gone quick. May is almost up then we only have June and July because Agust involves job quitting, jet setting and new life packing.
I can't wait to go.

I'm glad I'm not the only person who hates people who use say the stupid "nom nom" thing. I shudder typing it now. My sister hates it too, Bev that is, we discussed this and how I want to punch all who say it.

Internet slang pisses me off no end. People use lol like a fullstop.

It's a shame you can't heacbutt someone over the internet.

I have so much hate in me.

I'm capable of love though, like I love Sullivan Street by Tammany Hall NYC. The coda is second to Back in the Bottle and if Back in the Bottle were negligible then it is second to none.

But I can't share this love with you for they are too cool for you. And they aren't on YouTube appart from a couple of songs. For the best really, I am always pressing my muscial taste on people but weary to share the sound of what I like. I don't want people to say they hate it.

Anywho...

Tomorrow morning.

My prediction came to be true. EELS are doing a tour. The fourth of September he shall be in Manchester.
My course says it starts on the first, but on their computer or some sheet of paper I saw the fifteenth of September. Whatever it be I shall get a ticket and see what I can do about it.

It was warm yesterday but today I was even closer to death. I don't mind sweating buckets if I am lying down doing jack shit. Well sweating is ten times better if you are not wearing a shirt and a hat.
The sun is nothing to complain about it, walking home was a task and straight away I had a cold shower. Then I embraced the afternoon, sat out with Transmetropolitan and my iPod, then traded in the book for Rory. Then I may of fallen asleep for a bit. Glorious!
Getting up stupid early is so worthwhile. If I worked business hours I would get up at a reasonable time but I would miss the morning and the afternoon and just have the evening for myself. Nope, this way I get the whole day to myself more or less.

First barbeque of the year tonight. Lots of meat and beer, I feel suitably manly and suitably drunk.
And tired.
Lie in tomorrow and I think tomorrow will be easy. Next week, that looks forgiving. Just two early starts and the rest appear to dodge set ups and close downs.
We get another new guy. I can't remember if I said that the weird guy is leaving already. Full time job in IT or something, so evidently he is a capable human being even if he gives off the impression of living with his mother and having an empty resumé.
This is why I doubt myself when I read my buddhist book. I have little compassion about certain things. I judge too much. All these things can be explained by Buddhism, but I might feel lost without them.
But that too would then be explained, the ego is a selfish being.
The big one though is I would need peers and a master but I don't trust any in the West. I'm fearful for good reason so I have read.
It's like tattoos, watching Miami Ink has made me think that that is the only parlour for me. I feel the East is the only place to find that true lineage of teachings.
I must sound like a complete dick.

It would be a stronger world, a stronger loving world, to die in.

In a contrast to yesterday, today is not making a clear indication to it's soundtrack. Maybe by the end of this I will have a better idea.
So then, I just about died at work it was that hot. I was happy to go round the back and work because it was lovely and cool. It wasn't a bad day as I got to hide away for the most of it. It was also more easy going that usual, maybe the managers knew that no matter what we did we couldn't keep up with the stupid amount of people.
Or maybe it was summer in the air making everyone happy and care free.
I thought Rochelle was pregnant but there was no sign and I hadn't heard the news for sure. Then after my week off she got fat big time. Not fat, maybe that's mean, she got big anyway.
My feelings are mixed towards her. She's so nice to me and talks to me like an equal, and will talk about other people to me and discuss how shit they are. She never blames me for anything either.
This said, she's not the best line manager in the world. She'll piss me off with stupid requests and only sees half of the picture. Like looking at a clock to see the time and forgetting about all the cogs that are providing you with the time.
Still, it's always good to have allies in high places.

The other day I found my Russian navy top and have been living in it ever since. It wasn't comfy when I first got it but now it's the bee's knees.
Finally got round to getting a pot and some compost to move my pumpkin plant outside. This RL Farmville may take longer but it's far more rewarding. I do hope my pumpkin doesn't die.

Watchmen.
Wow.
Up until the last chapter it's a good comic, a great story and characters with minor characters thrown in as a foil. Is it a foil? I can't remember, anyway, things thrown in to make you draw similarities and comparisons. And then their is a comic within itself which bridges itself with the story in a not so subtle way, but I liked it. It was just the art. It feels flat and generic. Colour wasn't controlled either I thought, the pallet it wide throughout. Yeah, in some parts it's restricted to convey moods and a characters psyche.
But there were many parts which pleased me greatly.
This was all until the final chapter. Just wow.
The big showdown. You have been following the heroes, and here they are ready to take out the villain. But wait, in the grand scheme of things the villain is the hero. The moral dilemmas!
I still don't know which side of the fence I am on about it.
I look forward to reading it again as it is very clever.
I think it will also go into my wall of fame for books.
The whole Cold War period must of been something to live in. Not good, far from it, but I read things from that era and watch things and they are marvelous. The tension was obviously inspiring for people.
But not a good time for actually living, I assume, and I'm happy that World War Three did not occur.

And finally, UCAS is all done and dusted. My time with it was very short and very sweet. Unconditional offer, what a surprise.
Despite how well everything seemed to work I still had that bit of me expecting doom and gloom.
I should have confidence!
I'm getting more of the stuff I think as reading The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying seems to be pushing me closer to the edge, ready to take that leap of faith.
Maybe I will.
I'd like to.
But yes, things have all worked out on their own accord. It's beginning to feel all the more real.
No nerves, just excitement. It's going to be a ball!

I am el hombre lobo!

This morning was a sad one. No grand reasons for it.
At work when I am doing some repetitive task I tune out of everything around me. Sometimes I notice that I'm doing this and have a good old think about whatever comes into my mind. A sort of meditation if you will.
I must of looked a right pathetic sight if anyone had walked into the back room and seen me.
But as soon as the clock said one I was gone.
And I walk out and I'm the happiest person on the Earth. It was so warm and I knew what this day was. It was a Hombre Lobo day (EELS album, why I bother saying though). I have never before decided that album should belong to a day, but as soon as I was outside I knew it was the only one for this particular day.
I thought about sitting in the grass with Rory, but by the time I was home and had sat down, many hours had passed with me trying to muster the energy and will to climb two flights of stairs. In reflection, this was a bad move. I'm sure that tomorrow will be another warm day so I shall embrace it twice as hard.

I have been looking at my walls for a few weeks deciding what I want to keep. My Comedian scroll and Goo Goo Dolls poster is pretty much it. Recent events have also made me think that I am glad not to be a teenager anymore. Yes, technically I still am but I am way past the ridiculous adolescent years.
My sister had a load of friends round the other day. I looked at none of them in the face and decided I hated each and everyone of them. It was fine while they were up in her room and out the way, but then they came down while I was being the epitome of cool watching Deadliest Catch.
Gouging my eyes out would of been more pleasurable.
They didn't do anything though, just the presence was enough to infuriate me.
Just being teenagers. Having stupid opinions with no base on truth. One of them thought of herself as a scientist and that Stephen Hawkins was her role model. Then they all seemed to be in agreement that Adolf Hitler was a genius! I can only guess they had history on that day and learnt something new and then decided that they knew everything. What dicks!
I was just like that too, I'd like to think I wasn't as bad and I know for sure I wasn't some lame emo, but I was still too big for my boots.
Anywho, to link back, I have been looking at my walls and none of it appeals to me anymore. I don't think I have anything left of teenage Dan anymore. I like it.
I know why they say the school years are the best years of your life, but I can't say I look back with an affectionate heart. I don't look back and hate it either.
Oh yes, whist I remember and because it links just perfect, two of my teenage dreams have come true. If they had happened when I was fourteen I would of died and gone to heaven. I'm nineteen and I don't care one bit.
I must sound so cynical.
If only you could hear the tone of voice I use. I'm not bitter, at least not always, I just can't stop the thought train.

I may go finish reading Watchmen now. It's been good.
Just good.
I feel the art lets it down.
And that it takes a spectacular book for me to use the adjective great.

Woks & stripes.

It's been a while since I had to set an alarm for five in the morning. That time without it has been the best.
Tomorrow morning is going to be shit.
Week will soon be done though, time has a habit of flying when early shifts are crammed together. Then that is another week done away with bringing me ever closer to August.
I don't think I will ever be more ready for a holiday.

I made a Thai meal tonight. Everything, and I'll happily blow my trumpet and say that it was good. Made what I assumed a key lime pie was, but after searching now I realise mine was not. I made a lime meringue pie instead, but still it was good and we all had seconds and now there is not a morsel of food left. Bev asked me why am I so good at everything and proceeded to list all that she thought I was good at. Very sweet of her.
Still, I think I'm not as good as people say. Just average Dan with no special talents.
However, I do hope I'm the best cook when I go to uni. I want to impress people with my food. I just like cooking for people.

I'm looking forward to turning this off now and sleeping because I am worn out from doing very little all day apart from a few hours in the kitchen. I blame the beer and coffee free day.
I'd dare say that it is summer now because my window is now firmly open all day and all night. It brings the world into my room.

Becks or Cobra?

To busy drinking and talking. Living life rather than commenting on it.

Legs are like rock hard rocks today. Mighty fine.

Cut it fine.

I hate Morrisons more than anything else in the world at this given time.
This said, tonight was fun. Only two hours of unstacking and stacking shelves with Fran and Dan so there was no complaints about the company. I hate it more when I am not there.
When I am there I get to complain along with everyone else, there is a brotherhood within that hate.
My week off has made me hate it all over again.
Two months to go, that's what I keep saying.
I shall be the one who has the last laugh.

I ran a mile today in less than two songs, albeit they were long songs, but still!
And it took less than an EELS song for me to get to resting heart rate, and they are short songs.
I was really quite surprised by this.

I'm watching The 40 Year Old Virgin so conversation is thin.

Pay/Send.

UCAS is all paid and sent.
All nine pounds of it! The first of many payments I'll be making as a student.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited about it all though.
I got the cutest email from my tutor along with my reference. And what a kick ass reference considering I decided that registration was no longer compulsory for most my time there.

It was my dad's birthday today. I was not aware of this fully until I heard someone mention it yesterday. Not that I needed to worry, all presents are taken care of via third parties and I just have to put my John Hancock on them.
I don't do birthday's well. No one ever gets things off me. I'll change it one day when I find people who are worth the effort of finding a good gift. I should re-word that maybe, I do put effort in for some family members, I give input and ideas when I have good ones but I never do the actual buying.
So anyway, dad's birthday. If I have a birthday like that if I reach that age, kill me.
How depressing it must be for him if he saw life like me. Luckily for his mental health he views life in a peculiar way to not care.
I also really hope that if I do have children that I will be able to raise them so that they don't resent my company and are forced to make portrayals of an empty love. Nope, I hope my children will want to make cards and gifts because they love me.

I shall finish Watchmen soon and I will probably give it a picky review. It's great, amazing but I still have a few issues (mainly about the artwork).
That was it! Today in the car I was listening to Old England and a line is about sticking a flag where it doesn't belong, and right as this line was being sung we drove past and England flag planted in someone's garden. I hate that flag, it just looks so thuggish and other things I can't word.
But a magical moment.
Not as magical as one time when I was listening to my iPod pre-leaving the house. Heaven by Angels & Airwaves.
The moment I opened the door was the moment the song exploded into full life, it was lovely with all that sun suddenly hitting me along with the song.
But neither events are as good as waking up the the theme of Indiana Jones. I must invest in an alarm where I can have that.

I feel like staying up really late tonight despite my tiredness. I want to watch films, and lots of them. Maybe Leon? Or some perverted B movies to suit my perverted nature?

Just to see you, I'll give you anything.

It actually happened. Before they came on it didn't feel real. While they were playing it didn't feel real, and still now I can't quite believe it.
Since February I have been saying that seeing Third Eye Blind would be the best night of my life, and all that hype didn't even cover how amazing it was. I can honestly say that it was the best night of my life and it is going to take something huge to come close to that feeling, let alone beat it.
Motorcycle Drive By was, of course, the best part of the night for me. But the whole night, two thousand people who knew every word and sang their hearts out.
It was a room filled with ten years of excitement, apprehension, want and loyalty. But I still think Bev and myself were the most enthused there.
I could go on and on but the words are so hard to find. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but when I say I love music I mean it.
He promised to come back. Spent the whole night being sincere and being overwhelmed that the UK still care. I am aware he must say things like that at every show, but this was his first time playing in the UK for a decade so having a sold out crowd full of passion, I'd be taken back.
And his stage presence, fucking hot! It was the best gig ever and not just because it was Third Eye Blind, it just was the best show. It wasn't just coming out to play songs, it was a crafted show which has a perfect ending to numb the pain of their leaving.
It was the best.
Got my t-shirt. Red one, Third Eye Blind across the top, picture of a bike underneath and under that it says "the best music in the world". The day this t-shirt falls apart, I will fall apart.

I have to stop talking about Third Eye Blind now else I shall never stop.
The rest of my time in London was good. Bev and myself owned the Tube. I went on as a kid once but this time our journey was in our own hands, but it is so easy. Just we had to catch a train at half past five. Crazy busy, made crazier as someone decided to jump under a train.
I like the Underground. It's a pretty place. Made me think about Creep which was a nice confined film. A good film until half way through and all the unknown was lost.
That was most the sight seeing. Bev was looking forward to taking me and going to see things she hasn't seen but then money was tight for Seb so we watched District 9 instead. Suited me just fine as waking up to a film is much loved by me, and when it's a film as good as District 9 then my day feels like an outstanding success. We went to the falafel shop where I was told about the friendly woman, and she certainly was. And she did freakin' beautiful falafels.
Day continues at a dead pace. Probably not a bad thing because from the moment Bev and I walked out the gig we were well depressed. The massive excitement high, then Third Eye Blind high had ended and it was a very long way down. Not to mention we had eaten more sweets than any other food.
Coming home took no time at all really. There and back we had no radio or speakers, just a laptop with an hours worth of battery for music which was strategically chosen when to be played.
Not all bad because the two of us can talk forever and literally are on one and others brainwaves because we will often break out into the exact same song at the exact same time. That was done yesterday again.

Without doubt, the best night ever.

Seeing the sights.

This was the plan, so this may be what I am doing.
I'll catch you up with the events of last night because there isn't a doubt in my mind as I write this in the past that I am fit to explode with emotions at this future moment.
Maybe I'm seeing culture right now because I fancy a bit of it, or maybe I'm in a pub.

Thirteenth of May 2010. The best night of my life - ever.

My words wont do justice, just listen to him instead.

Tomorrow, my life as I know ends.

I'll be in there, somewhere, having the best time of my life.
Never before have I wanted something more than this and I have wanted lots of things. I always hoped that this day would arrive, I'd dream about the sequence of events but never did I fully expect it to happen. And it's hear, right in front of me, everything I could ever want.
I love how Bev shares this exact same set of emotions. We've talked about nothing else all day, and she even cried with excitement.
We went across the the fair with Curtis and it was actually fun. Normally I don't enjoy the fair but normally I don't have company as good as Bev's. There was only one big ride but it rocked. Hurt me though, it forced all the blood to the ends of my extremities and made my jaw ache loads. It soothed my aches for adrenaline so that's a plus. I'm not an adrenaline junkie, I just love massive rides and miss them because they are thin and far between. Same problem with the sea.

Everything else is great. Last night I was in a sour mood and felt like throwing my toys out the pram, but I stood firm. Fell asleep writing a song which lead to a soaring mood on my waking, made better by the waking hour being noon.
First thing done was the watching of a documentary about Ozploition films. Wow. I have a whole new catalogue of films I must see. And it furthermore concreted that I am looking down the right road with my life.
Then I went to school to talk about my reference with my old form tutor. On the way I saw people and new and had good, wholesome chats. Something unusual for me as I don't tend to talk lots. Then I talked loads to my old tutor, more in that half hour than the whole two years of sixth form. I'll happily talk on and on to anyone now it seems. A mix of reasons, I now feel like a complete person who actually has things to talk about. Aspirations and ideas, needs and wants.
And then I have had a handful of life changing experiences. I'm not using the term life changing in some dramatic way, I genuinely believe that. Every choice can set a whole new set of cogs in motion.
Speaking of my philosophies, I dreamt about a perfect girl last night. She did a beautiful cover of The Clash's One Emotion. She was beautiful.
The mind really is the key to everything, dreams prove this. I've only ever heard The Clash sing One Emotion so it was my mind that created this woman, and gave her a voice. The mind knows everything, we're just only aware of a small piece of that knowledge.
Like I said, everything is great.
I say this a lot, but there is no getting around the fact. I love everything about this moment in time.

Today has been productive.

And to carry on that trend this is all you get.

Under maintenance.

A big day today, I'm off to see my dad. Since Christmas the times I've been there can be counted on a single hand.
It's not my fault, I had hardcore hours and then between those I was working on my portfolio, he should of made the effort and arranged to do something around my schedule. The word effort is one that has never been used to describe my father, and I don't care. Everything there is awkward and staged.
I have no idea what to do about them when I move away. Nothing has ever been done to make me hate them so I have no reason to cut them away, I'll just look impolite if I did. Shit, I just thought about being an adult, like proper grown up. It's going to be even more awkward then. Something to look forward to.

I went to school today, nice walk there. Talked to my old teachers about my new news and arranged an appointment to do my reference. Not that it matters, my foot is in the door and I've had the interview already so no need to be eye catching.
Personal statement is done too. First draft was forty-two lines out of forty-five. That close to perfection that my first draft will be my final draft. I might add one ore sentence to get to forty-five lines.
I took no advice from the leaflets I had because it really doesn't matter, and I like the honest tone I put into things about myself.
I was thinking today, I'm going to be a shit father when it comes to offering advice. Sorry son, I can't help with that problem for I am a bastard with no special talent who got things too easy. Well, there is plenty of time for failure and rejection to change my tune. It'll come.

And now with that interview done I can finally start to make this look pretty. I have ideas of what I want in the background and such but these will change once I find out that I can't do them. Or I'll find a pre-made template. But right now I'm feeling ambitious.

Like mother, like son.

My mother pisses me off no end. I love her, don't get me wrong, but that doesn't change the fact.
I look at my family and I would only be friends with Bev, Charlie and my gran if they were not family. I have a good family though, again, I'm not putting them down.
My mum has a habit of being insufferable. Too much wine and being determined to stay up for no reason and complaining about being tired. It makes me want to punch her in the face, again.
A quick example, she just came in the room and the news was on and of course it was on about the wake of the election and she had heard none of it and came in saying: "you can't do that".
These days I don't stay quiet so I asked her what they can't do, and a stumble of words fell out her mouth.
She'll get pissed of adverts for no reason at all.
Come in and watch the end of a film I'm watching and decide she knows everything about it.
The day I was calling the Angel of the North shit, as you do, and she was defending it. Yesterday I was again saying how shit it is and she agreed with me. I pointed out this sudden change and once again she attempted a link between her different views.
But I do love her, not because I have to, because I do. She's not really a friend, and no way near a confident. I've opened up to her a few times and it was nice but I'm capable of sorting out my emotions on my own.
And all this said, I see so much of my mother in me. In my mannerisms and faults.
I'll form opinions, and argue them on little to no evidence.
I'll get pissed of at the tv but continue to watch it, though I like to think I watch more thought provoking things about the bad in the world, rather than a show about children's beauty pageants.
There is a whole list of things as I've been listing them in my head the past few days but now my head and belly are full of beer.
You get the jist though, she pisses me off but I'm just the same making me one great big hypocrite. I don't care though because I can see it and admit it.
Now with all this said and done I can't wait until I leave. I've been wanting it for years now. I feel like too much of an individual to be living with a family.
The job of bringing me up is long done and now I feel more claustrophobic than anything. I am grateful of everything, I must stress this.
All this truthsome talk must be because I finished the Diary of Anne Frank. I felt myself tearing up in the canteen. Her penultimate entry started with her talking of hope because of the invasion and possible liberation. It was heart wrenching that it just stopped, no indication of impending death, just stopped. Like Che's journal, he was talking with good spirits one day, and nothing was ever said again.
Now I've gone and made myself upset.

Fifteen minutes for two Coronas and six pence change.

I've just got in from work despite it being two minutes to nine and I was supposed to be there until nine. I did a whole, and literal, fifteen minutes work before coming back home.
It was a pretty pointless shift to begin with, an hour of refit related activities but I wasn't fussed about it, get paid.
But all I had to do was empty a fridge and I had Fran with me and - gosh, I've forgotten her name already, I am truly awful. Between the three of us we were done in minutes and took all the shit into a backup fridge.
Day done.
Easiest £6.12 ever.
Tomorrow wont be half bad either. Dan, Fran and Ann. It's not a coincidence that I get on best with those who's names rhyme with mine.
Then Fran and myself are doing more refit activities, two hours this time which hopefully will translate to half an hours work.
It was good to go out in the cool evening too as I have been restless all day. I woke up and threw myself around my bed until getting up and then I had no idea what to do with myself. A day off to do nothing. No drawing to do.
I watched tv. Two episodes of Castle, one of Deadliest Catch and one True Blood. God I love True Blood. I just upped it from nine starts to ten stars on IMDB. It's flawless. It has everything I love.
It's now my second favourite tv show, because Firefly can never be beaten.
I tired to tidy my room because I was restless. I sorted through some of my books, I have plenty. I then gave up with this and played with Garageband and my guitars.
Started Watchmen too, that was it. After that I can carry on buying Sin City and get DK2.
Plenty to keep idle hands busy.

Tiredness kills.

I thought I dodged UCAS.
I thought it would be harder.
I've done it all today except my personal statement and reference. I have my personal statement all ready in my head but I'm not going to write it tonight, I fancy the tv more and I can't see about my reference until Monday anyway.
I don't even need to sell myself either, all the hard work is done.
It's hard work being me.

Hung parliament, aye? I'm a hypocrite, I know, it's because my moods and views fly around and always change but that doesn't stop me from arguing my opinions even if they change the following week.
Politics will never interest me though, that much I know.
I voted Liberal Democrat. I know little about them other than that I wanted to vote for them. I didn't even see that thing that made Nick Clegg look great. I like new things, is all.
And where I may be living is a Lib Dem area, not that I'll notice a difference.

It feels weird doing nothing tonight. I feel like I should be doing something but now I don't need to. Easy going life.
Week off next week. Third Eye Blind. Oh, everything is beautiful.
New people at work. One is middles aged and weird. He seems like a person who lives with his mum still, but I was teaching him plenty of things and felt pretty good about myself. We will get another person too. Some guy who's a student here, maybe we can be friends.

Sleepy.

Somerset College of Arts & Technology

A pretty awesome day all in all.
Waking up was painful despite my extra forty minutes sleep. Tiredness hung over me as I opted out of my morning coffee so that I could have a comfy bladder for the car journey.
If I were superstitious, this day started great because before I got out of Buxton I saw two magpies flying together. Throughout the day I kept seeing magpies everywhere and about fifty Morrisons lorries. We really do do more fresh food that any other supermarkets.
And on the way back I saw two owls hunting. Magical.
My day consisted of more than just sights, don't worry.
Listened to all of Chris Moyels which was a nice way to wake up. Some Costa coffee from a service station. The toilets there are more like a shooting gallery than toilets.
Lost in Taunton. I thought it was nice to see the place, mother did not.
Talked to my first local there, nice West Country twang to his voice. Sadly, he was the only one with a good accent.
Arrive at college. Wait forever and a day in the art department only to then be told that the media make up interview was being done else where.
Trek back.
Meet the woman who already knows about the mess up of misinformation and get things going quick.
Really nice woman, easy to talk to.
No nerves for me. I didn't have them before hand but I thought when I was waiting I'd start to feel it, but this wasn't true.
From the get go she told me how I was super over qualified for that course, I was aware of that but thought the whole lack of art would of let me down. We talk about that for a few minutes before she asks to see some of my stuff. I show her my old GCSE crap first as I thought this would then make the rest look even better in comparison but she thought that my GCSE stuff was good anyway, then looked through the anatomy drawings I've been doing this year and says how they are both good and appropriate for such a course. Practically everything else I brought didn't get a look in because she was saying how the foundation degree would be far more appropriate for someone like me.
I'm right happy as this is what I wanted to do but I lacked the creative UCAS points.
But no, despite all this it doesn't matter because of my other grades, my portfolio, my age and of course, my enthusiasm. I'm quite speechless at this point, over joyed but I want to talk more, I felt like selling myself but as far as she cared she didn't need to hear it.
It's hard to call it an interview because it really wasn't at all, it was basically just talking about the foundation course and all that it involved. My mother was invited in at this point because it was a different course so there was lots of different finance things and accommodation things.
The three of us talk for a good forty minutes or so about all the different things. A huge selling point, I get to go to New York for a measly six hundred pounds! I can well afford that, I'm sectioning off said amount and not spending a penny of it.
That should be easy because I have been saving hard because I wasn't doing a degree course, but now I'll get student money.
I'm fairly sure that she offered me a place on the course because there was no what ifs and we'll be in touch. No, it was very much "see you in September". Great stuff.
She says there will be one other boy and the rest will be girls. Great stuff.
It was all great, and now there is no need for me to do the lower course, there's two years of my life I've saved already. I'm looking forward to it loads.
Basically all I need to do now is apply to that course via UCAS to sort out all the paper work side, then she'll talk to admissions to say that I've had my interview and in no time at all I'll start getting all my letters.
Out of politeness I went to the art people to say that I didn't need them or my interview anymore. That was good because the interview seemed like a bit of a cock and it saved be bluffing my way through knowing art.
Is it not a shame that I've worked on loads of things for the past few months for it to prove unimportant today? Not one bit, I've loved doing everything. I've had a blast with it all and I wont be able to stop if I wanted. My head's still full of ideas I need to get out but now this can all be done without deadlines.
I need to get my accommodation forms filled in now, I'll do that tomorrow.
UCAS needs doing which will be a piece of piss seems how my interview is pretty much a dead certain. The only slightly awkward thing to sort out is getting my reference from sixth form. But even that has it's good points, I'll go see my old teachers and chat and maybe see if they have all the finance details to save me leg work.
I'm super happy about everything. I'd show it more but I'm so tired and my head aches big time.
Because of these reasons I'm going to go to bed and probably have awesome dreams.

I swear, life treats me too well. Most things seem to work out fine on their own. The only rejection I've had is from Argos, not bad at all.

It's just around the corner.

I have loads to say but time has flown and I'm already late.
I must sleep.
I'd say I'd catch you up on everything tomorrow but that might not happen either.
Let's say the weekend.

Mind your head.

Where to start?
So much to say and I\m already eating into valuable sleeping hours.
Work. I like it more the worse it is. As in the more things kick off, the more arguments and anger the better it is for me. Today we all told our line manager to fuck off more or less.
Walking upstairs with Ann (as we both finished at the same time) I felt like we were as thick as thieves as we chatted, it was a glorious feeling. A feeling of belonging.
Next.
I remembered to get my photos. A lot of them, and they made my bag super heavy.
Walk home, In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, home.
Sit down, stick in photos while listening to Third Eye Blind and singing loudly in my excitement.
Out for tea. I usually like to pretend the waitress fancies me and tonight was no different. I thought that because I thought she fancied me was the reason for her looking towards me and being all nice and lovely.
Meal goes on, yeah, she totally fancies me. Not my single word, the word of the whole table. That's six mouths.
And if that wasn't enough you should of seen the size of the apple pie slab she gave me. It's good to be me.
She was ever so cute about the whole thing and I wanted to say thanks in some way and acknowledge her for it all. We decided I should give her a cheeky wink but it turned out I couldn't pull off a wink that would of not been creepy/comical. Shame.
Thank you unknown female who made me feel great.
Back home now. Finish sticking photos. Everyone looks through them. Listening to the reactions is good. I like scaring people, makes me feel proud. I hear them being squeamish and I feel good.
Lots of compliments, lots of them for a while now but they don't half make me feel awkward because I never know what to do with them, and I never fully believe them.
Bev has asked me to do her a painting for her birthday and I will do that for sure.
It's nice to have such a force behind me from everyone. First they called me a scientist, now I'm called an artist. I've never been either one of the two but that doesn't stop their praise from being nice.

Ten days until Third Eye Blind so there is only one song that can be played today.
Also, my pumpkin plant has a wee shoot now. More pride for this Dan. My ego is huge today.

Aches and sniffs.

I had a crushing headache. Not a splitting one, one that was causing my head to implode.
Paracetamol and beer has shunned most of that away.
Now I have been smashed in the face with stuffiness. I dread my alarm going off in the morning.

Got to listen to my flesh sizzle today. I burn myself so much that I don't even bat an eyelid anymore. This one though was a good one, big fat blister straight away.
I have a burn on every knuckle on my left hand except one. I'm toying with completing the set on purpose.

Make sure I don't forget to pick up my photos tomorrow.

Food for thought.

I forget about the tree best things I have ever eaten. Sometimes I'll be thinking long and hard and I wont be able to pin point some orgasmic taste.
Tonight I am reminding my taste buds as my butter chicken from that place I like is on its way and this dish would come in at number three.
Number two would be that mystery piece of pecan pie I had. No idea who made it, if it was fresh or factory made but it matters not because I about died of pleasure with that in my mouth. I desperately need to make a pecan pie, I was going to but I could only find chopped pecans at the time and I wanted whole ones. For both aesthetic reasons and a bigger crunch for contrast. I'm not sure if I wish to work with Heston Blumenthal, or that I had the idea to mix science with food first. Not that this really matters because this goes in that huge old pile of those wishes of mine which are worth as much as their weight - which is none, because they have no weight as they're merely thoughts.
Back on track.
As my memory serves I think I know what the best thing I have ever eaten. Salt and pepper squid from The Laughing Buddha.
I enjoy squid as it is, once on holiday I ate a whole one to myself. Fried tentacles, yum!
Now this particular dish was lush beyond all belief, the guy there recommended it to me and I'm so very happy that I listened.
I also love just an orgy of food. Curry on pizza with a pile of special fried noodles on the side followed with something with fruit in, or maybe suet, or marshmallow log. That sort of thing is all very good, amazing even but the above three are the only three that I can recall that have made me pause to say to myself: "This is the best thing I've eve had in my mouth".
Now I must end this talk of food as my curry is here.
Times are kind to Dan.

Your cheek on mine.

You're fully aware of my hate but when I think about the day I leave Morrisons I feel a little sad. The job can fuck off but I enjoy quite a lot of the company there.
Despite the fact that the last day of school meant very little to me and the last day of sixth form meaning even less. I'm not apathetic but I'm not that sentimental about things either so I have been pondering this feeling.
Not that it matters, it'll just be like anything else. Any emotions on the subject will last three days and then I'll forget to look back. But this wont happen either because I'll be stoked about going on holiday.
Enough of that now.

I can now see why Jeff Mangum loves Anne Frank. I can also see how it can inspire.
It's making me want to write a song and this is a feeling that I wish to pursue.
It is really nice to read just to see the vast span in what is right now and what was seen to be right then.
I think I must of had some pre-existing idea stuck in my head where I expected that because things were stricter that emotions would follow too. Far from it.
Her feelings and words are no different from right now, which is obvious now.
How crazy people were to subdue their true nature just to fit the image that was expected of them.
I like to think that behind closed doors it was different, all passion, furious clothes ripping and kinky sex.

Soon I shall be swigging the beer with True Blood. If only I didn't get rid of my invisible friend, I'm sure he would of liked it being a vampire and all.

Listening to a phone conversation about Farmville is one of those moments that I lose faith in everything and everyone.