Just watched Richard Ayoade’s new film The Double. It said quite a few things that I’ve heard before (oh I’m lonely, oh I don’t want to be lonely, I’ve got to do/be this and that etc.) but it said them very well indeed and I really enjoyed it.
I have to admit that I’m behind with quite a bit of my marking. Samples of writing (letters, short articles etc.) are really quite fun to mark. Assessing speaking and listening skills, however, is entirely mind-numbing. The actual discussions are very entertaining, but writing them up against assessment criteria is monotonous and takes up an astonishing amount of time - nearly a whole day for one class.
“Whereas I think: I’m lying here in a haystack… The tiny space I occupy is so infinitesimal in comparison with the rest of space, which I don’t occupy and which has no relation to me. And the period of time in which I’m fated to live is so insignificant beside the eternity in which I haven’t existed and won’t exist… And yet in this atom, this mathematical point, blood is circulating, a brain is working, desiring something… What chaos! What a farce!”—Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Sons (via literary-life)
I’ve just remembered that I recently made a Sims character that wrote heaps of books whilst also serving as the conductor of a symphony orchestra which really means that I’ve put more time into having a digital character write books than I have actually writing books myself
Sometimes when I trim my toenails I find that the nail on the little toe of my left foot splits somewhat and hangs there rather painfully. I once mentioned this to my mum who seemed to draw herself up before pronouncing that this is part of my Manchurian heritage - both she and my grandmother have/had the exact same affliction. Gee, I sure feel proud.
I’m really not sure to what extent I’ve felt or seen the effects of age. Thinking abut it, I find it difficult (and sort of worthless) to distinguish between myself at 18 and now at 25 - only through ‘life events’ serving as markers along the course of my emotional development do I see much change. Physically, though, I don’t see much difference. I may be alone in this.
Several of my students were shocked when I revealed my age, thinking that I was in my early thirties. In the staff room I’m incorrectly considered to be the second youngest. Yesterday, a charity canvasser in Wimbledon asked my age and, once I told them, looked entirely bewildered.
Perhaps if I start to turn grey, my hair thins and then starts falling out, my face droops and wrinkles - maybe then I will stop thinking that everything has stayed the same. Or maybe not. I’ve many delusions and every so often another one shattered (and another and another…) seems more certain a monument to the passing of time. Count the years! Or else count the barbs of shame torn from the skin!
Receiving ample monies on a regular basis has only seemed to have facilitated my ability to fucking waste a lot of it very quickly. Or maybe I’m a responsible adult who enjoys Japanese food and linens tops, and that’s ok?
People kinda go on about holidays if they find out you’re a teacher, which has been pretty dull but it’s a fair cop - they’re damn good. Yesterday I actually got told off (if you can call it that) for not using up enough holiday days. I will soon have roughly two weeks off for Easter and I don’t even know what to do with so much time. So that’s good. On the other hand I am quite lonely and one of my few friends has been quiet for quite a while. I worry that they’re unwell or perhaps utterly bored of me. I don’t know. Oh well.
I’d like to stay in a house by the sea and finish several books. If you look up (google) this sort of thing you tend to find unseemly and costly cottages meant for groups of families and essentially nothing for a mid-twenties individual who wants to build a fire in the fireplace and read with their feet up while occasionally shuffling over to make tea and toast or go out to watch the ocean waves as if it’s the fucking Hebrides without the foul weather (keep dreaming).
This week I’ve had just about all my students pass their exams (including a few about whom I was rather pessimistic if I’m being honest), and today I was observed and given a grade 2. This means that I am a ‘good’ teacher, apparently. I’m pleased. It’s half-term now and so I will sleep for a week, waiting for the rain to go away.
woah I was all glum because I haven’t heard from someone for weeks but they just called me late at night weeeee I’m happy
turns out they’ve had to work insane amounts of hours because of xmas/new year which I didn’t even consider because I’m so typically needy and selfish (makes me want to puke) I thought I’d just driven them off with my particular banality
I have to milk every opportunity I can to prove (to myself?) that I can be even just a few notches above awful and it’s not a good way to live I would not recommend
though I’m sure you probably already know better
It’s finally the end of term and students and fellow teachers alike have only just realised that I’m Scottish. On Saturday I’m going back to Edinburgh for a week - to have an identity crisis, presumably.
“I watched ‘Trapped in the Closet’ with my father-in-law [Francis Ford Coppola] once and I remember him sitting there in silence for 10 minutes and then saying, ‘This is incredible.’”—Phoenix’s Thomas Mars