No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Wednesday, 6 January 2010

Thunderbirds are go

A friend beat me to the new years resolution of actually making a blog, so as usual I'm stuck playing second fiddle to her.

A lot of people tell me I should write. Let's get one thing straight: I am NOT a writer. I'm a bittersweet, sardonic, occasionally needlessly cruel boy who dares to do and say a lot of what other people don't a lot of the time. I haven't gone back and reread my posts, and edited them, so if they dont make sense, or if the grammar's incorrect, you'll just have to deal with the fun that is stream of consciousness writing

I guess as its the first post, there should be a little about me section, and an explanation for the premise of this blog, so here goes nothing.

Everybody builds their lives around little white lies. You don't tell your parents where you were till 6am last night, because ultimately, all that matters is you're home and safe, they dont need to know you were taped to a lamppost for 4 hours. You tell your friends you're feeling ill, not that you've caught an STI. Even partners save each other a little grief here and there, because its easier, because its the shorter story, and because ultimately, it stops one more little arguement. (At this juncture, I should probably direct you to

White lies, half truths, not telling the whole story, these things get us through our lives, and whilst everybody denounces them, secretly, we're all grateful for them, because we don't want to know every little detail about people in our lives. So here begins An Experiment In Truth. What happens if I write down the real story? And send the blog to all my friends and family for them to read? Maybe they don't read it, maybe they'd rather not know. Maybe I get a call at 3 in the morning calling me a variety of expletives. And ultimately, by the end of the year, how many friends can I lose and regain over all this.

I don't intend to reveal everything straight away, because mostly, I would like to only be excommunicated by one group of people at a time, not all of you together. But as each issue comes up it will appear here, and you can learn more than you ever wished to know about the things that go through my head. And as I'm ultimately a good person, or so my mother is the only person to ever tell me, you also get a handy dandy tour through my music collection via spotify playlists

Now that's out of the way, we proceed to an all too realistic about me section.

A 22 year old bisexual boy living in Notting Hill, studying for his second degree in Aeronautical Engineering after his plans of become a pilot fell through rather suddenly due to an unexpected visual problem. Engaged to the equivalent of my high school sweetheart, and with him for the last 5 years, but in an open relationship which likes to throw a few curveballs into the mix every once in a while. Possessing of a complete lack of ethics, but a very strong set of personal principles. Disillusioned and bitter, with a side lost in the romantic happy-ever-after world of early twentieth century films. Deceptively small and sweet looking, but just waiting till I can find the appropriate virgin to sacrifice in the dungeon.

Current mood: overcompensating for anger with hyperactivity
Music to write to:

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