In the post today: A CD containing the contents of my old hard drive, including every article, essay, diary thing, e-mail, chat history, everything. I now have a complete catalogue of my Southampton days and can begin to piece it together to see if there is anything I can do with it, creatively.
It seems very odd. There are a lot of things I have not thought about for a long time and didn’t want to really. I don’t want to lie and say I had an entirely miserable time – the ups and downs seem to have recurred with the normal frequency throughout – but I am beginning to draw a picture of myself as a confused, inexperienced kid, too easily influenced and impressed. I seem to have had no social wall and certainly not much of an idea how to deal with other human beings.
Look how easily influenced I was – this is from an e-mail I sent to a girl I knew and bears the fingerprint of someone else:
…reliance may mean too much responsiblity but it also means lots of POWER! Just think how many people’s lives you could completely destroy with a wave of your finger. Or you could exploit them, which would be a bit more productive. Guilt is the only thing in the way of having fun at other people’s expense and that can easily be dispensed with….
God, what an utter utter dick. Any Southampton types here can probably tell the who the influence bearing down on my mind at that point was.
But I shouldn’t patronise myself, the writings show me to be intelligent enough, if not entirely awake to the world around me. It is also easy for me to dismiss myself in the past as being stupid and naïve, an easy excuse for avoiding self-analysis in the here and now. One thing that I can see is an ability (though intelectualised) to view people as either gods or monsters. Thankfully I seem to have shed that characteristic. That’s the only relief I can take.
I really hate analysing myself. It is an utterly useless and futile exercise and only makes me nervous. My analysis right now is that this message is a bit self-indulgent. But that’s weblogs for you, maybe?
Back in the real world, the moment of truth appears to have come at the flat. Mine and Hamish’s problems with Jacques were easy enough to pass off as personal animosity, but now he has got to the stage where he is screaming at the three girls too. Something very drastic will soon be done. No details at this stage, but a major plan is in action. Too much is more than enough.