Matthews Diary

Tuesday, July 20, 2004

I live in a hiding place

If there was one part of my personality I could replace, topping the list, almost certainly, would be my sentimentality. Being quite an emotional person (deep down, at least), I try to hold on to anything and everything that has any relevance to me. When it comes to selling things, or shedding worthless old tat, I'll, in most any situation, refuse to co-operate, dig my heels, and think up a million reasons for which I should keep any such item. For instance, I recently had to get a new bed. As battered as my old one was, as messed up as the springs were in it, and as marked, stained and bitty it was, I absolutely, positively refused to change. Though I had no choice when a stealth operation took place behind my back at Uni, but, alas, such is life.

I'm not writing this to recall the tat I have collected over the years however (that could go on for many thousands of words, if I got started), but, today, I've been thinking. There were several fine girls at University. And I mean fine. One of which I gave regular hi-fives. And it pains me to think that I, Matthew Britton, will probably never see them again. Or the kind of half-mates that I made. In a way, placing a couple of hundred kids at a University for a week and forcing them into a team mentality was kind of like torture as, no matter how any of the students try, struggle or writh, the chances are that the friends and compadres they made over the week will never be seen again. I mean, I made some mates there. Geordies-Scousers 1 to 6 (there were 3 of them, so don't ask), Matthew, Liam, Kev (the evil genius) amongst others... and none of them shall I grace again.

Finishing School was a similar experience. For 5 years I toiled, struggled and attempted to make an impression with people. For the final 2 years of my stay, I tried as dearly as I could to make anyone and everyone who I encountered that day to feel special. When passing random year 7's in the hall, I'd ask them for a Hi 5, say hello, ask for a hug or atrtempt to talk. It makes it feel all so more homely, and makes me feel more at ease. As a young child coming into a school containing 16 year olds, it can be quite daunting, and I know, especially when you're in culture shock, like I was. I wanted to be the person who all the kids looked upon and remembered as a 'pretty cool guy'. And, I think I acheieved that. The facts are though, as friendly as I was with Will Pugh, and as much I was hated by robotkids 1 and 2, I shall never, most likely, see them again. And, if I do, they probably won't recognise me, and I won't recognise me as we'll have likely have changed and developed. Even though I'll never know and never find out, I want to be one of the people that springs to mind when people think of Saint Pauls Roman Catholic High School.

It's just a strange, strange feeling. Like when you remember a part of a song, but only remember that little snippet, and, as much as you try, you can't think of what it might have been called and so, therefore, that's what it stays as - a worthless meory in your mind. I don't want to be a snippet in teh scrapbook of someones mind. I don't want to be the guys that someone half remembers when they look back at school in 30 years time. I don't want to be the person who everyone forgets. I don't want to fade into the background. Maybe thats why I act like a total prat, and why I grew my hair. It most likely, subconciously, is. Before I grew my hair I was a timid little child, with no social skills whatsoever. Now, though, it's almost as if I use my hair as a mask, to allow me to do stuff and experience things that the usual, short haired Matthew could never experience. Oh, the wonders of a human mind.

'you gave me more to live for
more than you'll ever know'

Monday, July 19, 2004

comfort in words

Well, I promised myself that I'd use this space as some kind of diary, to record emotions and such, and, so, I may as well go along and record my emotions, you know, so I can look over them sometime in teh future and relate with them, and measure how much I've grown as a person, amongst other things. How I've kept this under wraps for as long as I have done is a mystery to me, and I'm shocked that I haven't whipped open notepad earlier, and written a lengthy essay about it but, as much as I try, it just doesn't flow. Now I may as well just spew everything I'm thinking, feeling into this and try to organise it into something readable.
Well, I might as well go ahead an inform you of the situation: the day I got home from Uni was the first time I checked my e-mail in a week and I had a personal mail from Dominique. Yes, that Dominique. I've thought about publishing the letter on here, seriously pondered putting it up for all to see, as some kind of public declaration. But I couldn't, and shan't. As much as a diary as this is, it's a public diary, and is open plainly for all to see, so anyone with the URL can simply come and and read my emotions. And that's another key point - they're MY emotions, that, I have chosen to make public. If Dominique wanted to make known her feelings, I'm sure she'd start her own blog up. The mail she wrote was only meant to between the two of us, and I feel it quite reveaking and dangerous to even mention it on here. Her friendship is one that I treasure and is one that I would be seriously upset if I ever lost her, in any form. She's become a pillar upon which some of me depends on, and losing such a vital companion would, most certainly, make me crumble and fall. For  those reasons, I am only going to discuss my feelings on here, rather than putting up the mail for anyone to see.

Well, if I thought that the other week was closure, how wrong I was. This information a year ago would've been something that I would've killed to hear - that would've given my summer hope, given the days a happier tint, and changed the ways I spent my time. Hell, I might have not have been sat here moaning about it all on this blog. But, if I'm honest, I'm quite glad I went through all this so called pain, in retrospect. As stupid as that statement sounds, It's often said that pain, suffering can enhance a person, and strife can make a better man, and I believe this to certainly be the case here. It was always going to happen at some point in my life - an immeasurable love being dashed, destined to crash and burn. I'm just glad that I've experienced it relatively early, and that I was at a point in my life where I could handle it sensibly, rather than other people or other times which may have forced quite different outcomes in the same circumstances. I certainly know, now, what it feels like to have any hope of being loved stolen from your body, and almost all will to live sucked from my veins, now, and, once it happens again, I'll be better equipped to handle it.

It's also nice to know that I am, actually, almost needed by someone. Never in my life have I been any kind of pillarstone or such in anybodies life. Of course, family love me, and would miss me if I was gone, but I'm not essential to anything in family life, and any happenings will, most certainly, not require any sort of input from me. I'm usually the fun man - the guy who is just there to mess around, to enjoy himself. I'm no kind of worker. I've got no responsibility, no use. In the purest sense, I'm selfish, ungiving and unworthy. But Dom told me that she needs me, that I'm the closest person to her - a true friend. That's sparked something inside of me, a feeling that I've rarely felt before. A feeling that I am, in fact, important, and that I am a good person. There's only one time that I can remember feeling like this - when, in cubs or beavers or some other organisation, a little kid told me, after I'd solved a puzzle, that he was 'really, really glad you're on my team'. That was several years ago, now, and by pure fluke, but this time, these statement by a girl I was once in a high intesity relationship with, are no fluke. Dom is just that kind of person, the kind of girl that makes you yearn to be with you. Even when you're surrounded by people, or she's busy or whatever, she still manages to make you feel that little bit more special, gives everything a rose tint. In a world full of self obsessive, throw away, fashion victim girls, she doens't fit any mould, fill any category. There's only one way in which I can describe her - Dominique.

I now, after all this writing, feel empty. After being brimming on emorion at the start of this peice, when all the file was was an empty screen staring back at me, I know feel more at ease, more ready to interact and play. Writing is the most theraputic thing I have. Thank God for this blessed blog.

Saturday, July 17, 2004

Back to reality...

It's often been said that starting a peice of writing is the worst part of it all, and shapes the way it pans out, and how far into it the writer gets - I am very much a subvscriber of that theory, and the numbers of times I have scrapped grandiose ideas after the first line is beyond count. I have, in fact, attempted to start this entry about 5 times now, and still I can't get it to go right. It's the same feeling when I'm bored - I';ve got so much to do (or say, in this case), but, for some reason, I don't want to do anything. Under any normal circumstrances, I'd simply let this blog entry slide, let the memories ebb away until I had the momentum to put my emotions down into readable form, but, the more I put it off, the angrier I get and the worse I feel which, in turn, makes me less ablke to write. It's a vicious cycle, and one in
which everybody loses, so I think I'll try and reverse that in the coming paragraphs.

It's been a marvelous few days, and, if I ever have the chance to repeat such an experience, I damn well will. The week has awoken me to what iut means to have a social life (of sorts), and what it's like to be yourself, without many shackles or restrictions. Being able to mess around in your corridor with total strangers and have such intensity of fun is amazing. On my floor were 2 close friends (alwin and Jamie, for reference) and 3 lads who we thought were Geordie (plainly due to the haircuts), but turned out to be Blink 182 loving, Dirty Sanchez re-enacting crazy boys who wanted nothoing more than a good time. Which, surprsingly, led to a few good times. And not in the sexual sense, either (as far as I know). I left death threats on their beds, tried to break into their rooms when one of their 'close friends' (who happened to be female) was having a shower, attempted to kick open locked doors and a hell of a lot of laughs.

There were a number of other people, aside from the obvious 'old friends' of Jamie, Mario and Alwin, that made my days bright, and my laughs many. Matthew and Liam were 2 such people, and having such people to talk to the vitues of Funeral for a Friend to, and to be able to fall back upon such people like I've known them for several years is quite a nice quality, considering the event only lasted 5 days in total. There are numerous others, also, that I have talked to and share memories with but, if I go into every ast detail, I'll start lying, and tripping over myself.
It's just that this trip has opened my eyes to the brilliance in people - the fact that not every teen feels the need to listen a certain genre of music, and that not everyone thinks that Burberry is the heoight of coolness. Never once did I feel vunerable, lonely or such. Even when wondering around by myself, passing gangs of youths in and around campus. For some reason, student stride in my step, it felt perfectly okay walking around like a normal person. Maybe it was the limited independance that did it for me, or maybe the 'holiday' feel that it all had, which made me feel very much like a tourist in my own city.

There was one thing that made this visit extremely special, though - the girls. Every turn of the head, every square centimetre of teh campus was brimming with brilliant looking ladies, which really raises the pros of university. In reality, though, I was never going to 'get it on' with anyone in a week. Typically, it takes me a while to get used to my surroundings, the people and the stmosphere before I can start trying to interact and form any form of friendship - for example, when I moved from my native Bradford to Manchester, it took me about 2 years to start to make friends outside of my step-brothers and step-cousins and, partially, their immediate mates. For the last 3-4 years, I've been my crazy self, and, at uni, it was much the same. Until about Wednesday, I was usually silent in presence of others, but, from then on, it was back tpo me being my usual self, making impressions, making friends and, to be basic, having all-out fun. If itr lasted for another week, I don't doubt that I'd have fufilled a personal aim of mine, and have 'got the girl'. Well, I'd have made an impression of some sort.

Well, after wittering on for a while and going into little specific, I think I might as well list a few of my favourite moments on campus, for memories sake.

'Want another Pringle?'
Me being next door to Jamie was never going to mean peace and quiet. Having bought a pack of pringles for the movies, and only devoured 1/10 of its contents, it was time to use them for good. Jamies friend Jenni had come around to talk to him, Alwin was in, and I had Pringles. Hence, a variety of ways of me knocking on Jamies door and asking him if he wanted a pringle, whilst he hoped for piece. Ranging from the straight forward forthright asking, to leaving notes, to simply placing pringles at the door, even leading to a Tic-Tac varient, it was quiet memorable, with Alwin joining the cause about halfway through. Throughy memorable, and will likely beconme and 'in joke' in coming years.

Oriental Woman
All the rooms have phones, which have their own individual extension numbers. One misdialled number, one crazy Oriental woman and tracers being put on phone calls soon lead, and, after several stabs at it, I finally got my call through to Alwin.

Death Threat
Mentioned before but still ranks up their. One of the Geordie Scousers was out, and left his door open. I realised this, snook into his room and left him a death threat. The next morning I was quizzed about it and confessed - apparently, he'd been scared about it all night, and asked several others about it in the morning, much to his bemusemant.

During the visit, the aim was to design and build a robot capable of completing the easiest of tasks. Our group was split into two, and the other side were done within the first few hours whilstr ours struggled along. They eventually won and we got third place, which was nice. But Colin, a member of the other team, with nothing to do other than waste away his time, constantly updated the rooms PC with the latest messages. Favourites include 'Kev is an Evil Genius' and 'Our robot had a late scare'. May not directly involve me, but makes me laugh nevertheless

Carling Advert-esque football
Final night, everyone is ready for the disco, the lads find a ball. I take my shoes off for nets, and all hell breaks lose. A short, waste away the time kick about turns into a 30 man brawl as students (male and female), supervisors and ambassadors all join in, much like the Carling advert being shown on TV (with that infectious song being played throughout), with random kicks, feet and heads being thrown into any situation. Quite legendary.
Well, I've written enough to settle me back in and, soon, you'll get extracts from the Jopurnal i tried to write whilst I was there.
"oh, how I cherish you my love"

Sunday, July 11, 2004

The words of a desperate man

Having being bforced to clean my room before I vacate to Uni for the week, Ive been forced to clean my room by my Mother, and, now, I'm quite glad that I did, as I found this little document, written nearly a year ago, lurking in my bookcase. Written after the 'break up', It was me at my most down and out, and it's provided some insights into my state of mind.

To Dom

I know this is probably the last thing you want to read the day you come back from your holiday, and just thinking about writing this has been giving me headaches, but I just couldn't let our reltionship end the way it did.

First, let me explain what I think about you, and how you make me feel. I could lie and say I remember the first time I saw you, or could even say that it was love at first sight, but it wasn't, and I wouldn't lie to someone I care about as much as I do you.

The truth is I've grown to care and adore everything about you over the last 3 years and especially the last 7 months. I usedto dread the weekend because I wouldn't be able to just enjoy being near you in Maths. And the only reason I started hanging out by the wall? In the hope I'd be able to talk to you every once in a hwile, such was my infactuation. The only reason I went to Spar and bought Cherryade was just incase I saw you.

I could write pages about all the elittle things I did before we started going out, but all that would do is bore you. You truly are the first person I've ever loved with all of my heart, not because I have to, but because of who you are. For the last few weeks I've not been able to get you out of my head. At work experience I couldn't work for more than 5 minutes without pasuing to dream about you.

Everything I think about you sounds like a massive cliché and feels like it's been copied from any love movie.

And that's where it stopped. I think i tried writing about 5 seperate letters during the 2 weeks she was away, all of which were poor, and none of which I deemed worthy. Having a bucketful of emotions that you need to unloadm release from your body, like the puss in a spot, then getting writers block isn't the nicest thing to happen. I like it to realising you're constipated after having an 8 course meal at an Indian.

A few weeks and a couple more tries after this, I did, finally, write her a letter which I deemed worthy, and took it down to her house, leaving it under a stone by her gate. The only feedback I got was that it got her in 'loads of trouble' and that she 'didn't, in fact, fancy Nathan'. The latter of which I've found out to be false on numerous occassions since.

Oh dear. Onto Uni week with high hopes, eh?

'thinking of your love'

Don't say goodbye

So, tomorrow I have to say goodbye to my laptop which has accompanied me through the last couple of weeks, pack up and leave the sanctity that is my bedroom and step out into the bog, wide world... well, fore 5 days, anyway. And, if I'm honest, I'm quite looking forward to meeting a couple of new mates, talking with 'old' mates and, generally, having a laugh. All to the backdrop of a free week at university, and free nights out. It could be the school trip that I always dreamed of, but never happened. With mother, step-brothers and other restrictions out fo the way, I might actually be able to have some fun, rather than having to hold back. Maybe I'll tell someone how I feel about them, or, maybe, I'll be a changed man. I hope, I pray.

Well, as you may have read, I probably won't be able to update this dear old blog for at least 5 days whilst I'm away, so you might as well forget about coming here after about Wednesday, then, Friday night/ Saturday morning, I'll be kciking back into action and, seeing as I'm taking a couple of notepads with me, you'll be able to read the 'Uni Journals'. I'll probably spend all night writing it, wake up in the morning and realise that all of it is poorly punctuated, illegible mess, which is unusable in any form. That's the problem with being a genius - your handwriting suffers.

So, I've got everything I need. Credit on my phone, MP3 player stocked up on tunes to get me through the week, Harry Potter and The Order of the Pheonix, notepads, clothes and all. And this is just for 5 days away from home. If I didn't have an organised Mother, I'd only be taking a toothbrush and a couple of chewits. The joys of being hand weened through every last situation are underrated.

If we have internet connection, you can probably expect a nightly update from me, recapping the day and have me pouring out my emotions, as usual. If not, then there will be a stony silence amongst this place.

And, just before I go to empty my drawers, I'll leave a list of aims to fufil during my time, and I'll assess whether I've reached them when I get back...

- Get over it
You know what I mean
-Make new mates
Clichéd as hell, but, dammit, I want to converse with different people
-Sucessfully make a daily diary
I'm poor at recalling events, so this could be a perfect oppurtunity to try and make my story telling more vibrant
-Ask Mario just what the hell he's doing with Danielle
She's a bitch, he admits it, asks her back out. Twice.
-Make Jamie less camp
He's the most feminine bloke I know. And he's one of my best mates. Something's up.
-Read Most of 'The Order of the Pheonix'
I wanty to read Great expectations and Animal Fam when I get back, you see

Goodbye, my Blog, see you soon (I hope)

'What became of the dreams we had?'