Yeah, so I basically spent my first week back at AC sitting in bed (or more specifically, on my bed) watching the first two series of the BBC’s Robin Hood. Yes, I know. It’s childish, the acting isn’t brilliant and neither really is the set, but they have a low budget and though a bit pun-y and cliche, the writing’s fairly good. I didn’t get the chance to watch it when it came out originally in like 2006, so this is my chance, and I’ve always been fairly fantastical. I’m ashamed that I’m so embarrassed by it, really. The other day at dinner I realised that I’m probably a nerdy weird child (who should only have one or two friends) stuck in the body of a relatively socially accepted, moderately attractive female. I don’t think it should be this way, but at the same time I reckon it’s why I have so many weird complexes. I do. I’m a little bit fucked up in the head but it’s easy to hide behind the mask of normality that everyone expects.
It was a nice week, kind of. But I am stuck in a rut and I hate it – all I want to do is go back to the dorm, put on my headphones and watch Series 3, but I can’t. I won’t let myself because it’s just too much escapism and it makes me nostalgic for a time I have never belonged to or seen outside of the movies. Of course it’s glamourised, and therefore of course back then was not like what my mind thinks it is/was. Which is why I think I write so much, just to not have to be here in the modern day. These feelings often creep up on me, it’s true. I reckon I get them for a month or so at least three times a year. Is that normal? According to Midnight In Paris it kind-of is, the fact is that loads of people think that a time before they exsisted was the Golden Age. Maybe I’m in serious need of some reinactment. I think I would love doing that, but again, it’s a bit strange for the Relatively Socially Accepted, Moderately Attractive Female to take part in such things – which is the exact thought process that comes from the complexes.
God damn all those complexes that I have, they’re such bullshit and I hate them. I’m not saying I’m the only one to have them but I figure I’m less normal than a lot of people out there, who all seem perfectly happy with the way things are now. But not me. It’s like Bing said – I have to yell out my personnality, and sometimes I think the fact that I hide part of it is severly crippling me. Again. Who’s fault is that? The Complexes’.
So I think I’ll have to muse over what exactly these complexes are, make a list and get back to you. I’m on a journey of self-discovery, it seems, and I’m not sure I’m going to like what I find.
And more and more, I have been seeing trailers for the Boy’s movie that’s coming out soon – unless it’s already out, I’m not sure. I’m in two minds about this whole thing, and not just because of the ‘history’ that the Boy and I have. Obviously, I care about him, but we were friends before the ‘history’ and though I am completely in awe of his life experience… I am unsure as to whether I want to see the movie or not. I imagine it’s a brilliant film, and I think he’s quite proud of it, but I just don’t know how I feel about the whole thing. Not that I think his family have sold themselves out – not at all, it’s a wonderful thing that they wish to share their story – but knowing him, I don’t know if I want a dramatized view of it. I don’t know if I want to see it; because it’s not like I could ever fully experience it, and I mean… what if it makes me (god forbid) pity him? I mean I sympathise already, and it was a horrific thing to happen but a great story at the same time because it has a happy ending and everyone was okay.