Back Again At Misery Inc

Well after so many months of not having to write on this blog and profess how my life was deciding to screw me this time, I thought finally I might never have to write here again. Well I'm back, so obviously I'm wrong. Only this time, just like the stakes in life, the messes are bigger. It seems that as you grow up the problems grow with you. Spilling your drink and having your mum growl at you might seem like a huge problem when you're young. A girl dumping you might be one when you're a teenager. The problems get more and more mature as you do.

In the past few months I've matured a lot. I've learnt the trade of being a man. I don't know why now of all times, but I have. Jess taught me a lot - for a fling which I wasn't taking seriously, she sure has taught me how to be more forgiving, caring, and mature. We haven't spoken in a while, but things have been plain sailing ever since; I've started university and have begun to make friends; was beginning to get on consistently with my parents; be confident in myself and make decisions with the maturity you'd expect. Everything was great. Until yesterday.

I've been with my cricket team for two years now. Last season was great - I was the youngest there with lots of older guys teaching me how to play properly and friends to make. This season however, our keeper was selected as selector for the team. This unfortunately, spelled the end of my time at the cricket club. Our keeper is an okay guy, a bit of a he-man and definitely not someone I'd befriend, but he also plays indoor cricket. If you've ever played club cricket, then you'll know all about how indoor cricket can be violent, aggressive and unsporting at times. So with his election to selector, he invited all of his indoor cricket buddies over (they of course knowing they'd have a place in the team).

Almost immediately, the team dynamic changed. Most of the nice guys from the previous season left, with only a few older guys overlooking the newcomers. Because I was youngest, naturally these guys were going to assert their place in the team by singling me out. One guy in particular, we'll refer to him as Fag from now on, has been particularly harsh on me, with snide comments being made whenever he batted with me or whenever I made a mistake, he was always first to criticize. I can take constructive criticism, but he went above and beyond to be obnoxious. A few of the others joined in occasionally, but never on that level. The newer players never showed good sportsmanship, consistently arguing with the umpires and other teams. I play for fun and never say a bad word against anyone, no matter what. Some people just don't think that notion is viable.

Not being one for confrontations, I just let it slide. I can take a lot of pain. I'd come home distraught and beat myself up about my mistakes. But it was only one guy, so it wasn't so bad. But this weekend, it seemed as though most of the team had turned against me. Fag kept bossing me around when it wasn't his place, and when I missed a ball off his bowling (and to be honest, no one on the team could've reached it and it was only hit so far and fast because of his poor bowling) he continued to ridicule me and when I reacted, he told me to shut my mouth. Fuming, I continued, safe in the knowledge that his girlfriend is a chubby whale who keeps him under the thumb. But then at half time, the last straw was struck.

"Oh great, so you're opening the batting?" says I to Fred. "Yep" he replies. "You should go out there and smash it." To that, Fred replies, "I'm not taking batting advice from you Spawn Man." I wasn't giving any, nor was I attempting to be serious in my comment. One player being a prick to me was forgivable. Two? Well that was it. I rang my parents to pick me up. A mistake? Maybe. Did I do it? Yes. Can I change it? Nope.

My parents came and pretty much began swearing at the other players in my team who'd wronged me. To tell the truth, sure I'd have liked it to be handled differently, but my parents had been battling with my misery from the taunts at the club all season and had had enough - a mother bear protecting her cub as my mother put it. I was embarrassed and numb. I still am pretty numb about the entire debacle. I'd wanted to talk to them and possibly get them to help me talk to some of the older members of the team. But it went out of my hands and control rapidly, too rapidly for me to pull back before the bridges were burnt. I don't blame them - I know they were doing what they did from a good place and that they only want the best for me. I'm just annoyed they didn't consult with me before changing my life forever, but it's done now.

I left the ground with everyone looking back. Some were looking astonished. Some confused. Others with angry scowls on their faces. It does feel like a death. I had friends there. I felt like I was part of something. A team. And now it's gone. Forever. Forever is a long time. I sent a message to the team saying why I was leaving and that I was sorry it was to end like that. Since I've had a couple of replies and apologies, and a few saying that my parents were pathetic and that I should be ashamed and not come back to the team.

I'm struggling with that - should I have dealt with the problem on my own? Maybe they're right in the fact that I shouldn't have let my parents fight my battles (not that I asked them to). I feel more mature than ever, but am I really after this? By saying that their actions were okay, am I saying that I think it's okay to resolve issues like that? I don't want my parents to think that I despise what they did, but the way things ended doesn't sit right with me either. I can't make heads or tails of it right now. I feel exactly the same way as when my cat died and when I broke up with Vikki. I've been crying and upset, but now I feel like it's all a dream.

The worst thing is that it was cricket. If you know me, then you know I love two things more than anything: Cricket and Batman. And now I have to give one up because of the behaviour of the few assholes in my cricket team. Maybe I was the problem? Maybe I just took things too seriously? I always have a way of crashing and burning with any friendship, club or relationship I've ever had. Maybe I'm the problem as per usual? It's like my conscience is set to overdrive - anything unfair is flagged and I just cannot reconcile it and then my parents come in to swoop me up. I like the feeling of being swooped up, but I feel like a martyr. I miss out on what I love.

I don't know what I'm feeling. Just when life was getting good, it gets worse. If I could take the day back, I would. For the love of God I definitely would. I know ultimately, I'll overcome it and that it was the right thing, but if I could, I'd have confronted Fag myself and if I'd needed to leave, I would have. But there are no do-overs in life. I have loving parents and a life ahead of me, but boy do I have a way of being miserable.

Complicated... As Per Usual

As if online hook-ups with strangers after lying wasn't bad enough! I am currently back with the girl, who we'll call Jess, but not only that, tonight I hit on her best friend Lisa! So not only am I still reaping the fruits of my lies in the form of online sexual encounters, but I now have been unfaithful too! As you can see I'm pretty confused and worried right now, so let's start from the beginning and unravel my mind together. Because let's face it, when it comes to the vast and varied enigma that is my fucked up head, you know as much as me.

"Why can't I have a little fun? Why do I always have to finish last and never get a little naughty?" This is what I was thinking when I spoke to Jess right before we began our relationship again. And really, why not? Why can't I have some fun and muck around with some girl? Sure it's not real in the physical sense, and maybe I wasn't entirely truthful when entering into it, but this time it felt right. It didn't feel so debauched. And indeed we've had some very intimate moments over the weeks we've been continuing our relationship. We know it's just a bit of fun. A bit of closeness for two wounded individuals in this cold world. But is a one night stand and casual sex in the real world the same as its' cyber equivalent? Can either be acceptable for someone like me, someone who supposedly respects women and nurtured relationships?

Whatever the morality, I was in the relationship once again with Jess, like an inevitable gravity pulling me ever towards her no matter how hard I tried to escape. But as you may know already, this is not the only thing pulling me (excuse the crude pun). For always in the background is the web of disaster and woe drawing me ever into its' tangled maze. Like a small child gazing at candy laid in a convenient line all the way to a gingerbread house, I am forever drawn to completely and unequivocally fucking everything up.

Jess lives with her best friend Lisa. Both have befriended me online and have become close friends. To tell the truth, Lisa is far more my type of woman than Jess will ever be. The irony is that Lisa likes me only as a friend and would never have an online relationship with me. As much as I hate to admit it, it seems that no matter my intentions, I have fallen for the easy one. I know it sounds cruel and I hate myself for saying it, but it's true. What little relationship we had outside of online sex, Jess made me promise not to do it with anyone else. So what do I go and do? Not only do I express my interest in a girl, I make sure that girl is, out of all 3.3 billion of them on this planet, Lisa, Jess' best friend.

Oh what a fool. I even knew Lisa liked me only as a friend before I asked her, which she confirmed after I had sufficiently made a fool of myself. "X". One little letter. An implied kiss and now I have broken my unbreakable vow. Don't cheat. Don't be unfaithful. I've witnessed the effects and the hurt of infidelity first hand through several years of my life. And now I have, even though it's only in the world of pixels and data, done just the thing I spent my whole like making sure I'd never. And for all the low morality I feel for me and Jess' "relationship", I still know there's a real girl on the end of that line. Someone with a beating heart. With feelings. Feelings to hurt.

I knew it was a mistake as soon as I told Lisa. Sure in real life, maybe we'd be best friends and maybe we could go on a date. Maybe me and Jess could too. But online, this can never be and I've put the only one who is willing to be intimate with me, the only one who is willing to share themselves and be vulnerable, at risk of being betrayed. And in all this is me. I feel lost in it. Foremost on my mind is what is happening to me. First online sex. Now I'm cheating. What's next? Will I continue to cheat? It was so easy. Just a slip. One careless moment thinking only of myself. Only to see if I could hopelessly fall in love with yet another faceless spirit through my lies and deceit. Is it even that big of a deal?

I feel compelled to tell Jess. Maybe because I feel guilt and want to confess. Maybe because I know it will drive her away and cease what has been a very troubled and confusing time for me. I'm still coming to grips as to why and what happened. Everything is pointing at me being someone far lesser than what I had imagined myself to be. I'm having trouble coming to terms with the fact that maybe I'm just as flawed as everyone else. I knew I was troubled, but never for this.

On the scale of cheating, I'd say this was low. I placed a letter and flirted with someone who did not return my glances. I knew it was wrong and I certainly do not wish to continue or hide my lapse. Perhaps in real life I might not be so foolish. Maybe the boundless edges of cyberspace have done my head in - too many new experiences and not enough familiar ones to reign me in. Regardless of the cause, I have but one question - what now? Should I even be in a relationship at all of this nature? Is the nature degrading my morals? Am I bad for even thinking that a nice girl should be considered as having lesser morals for partaking in such a relationship? Was it really cheating? Should I tell Jess? In real life would I still go for the "easy" girl or for Lisa who I get along with and like more?

Once again my questions bounce unheard off the glass of my computer screen, the incessant tapping of my keyboard the only thing keeping me from giving up completely. Maybe me and girls just do not mix. I'm sure other guys would see a way around this. Maybe just lie, find a way to have both or just not screw up in the first place. Hopefully when I tell Jess, I'll have figured out not only the words, but the cause too. And maybe she'll forgive me. I doubt it. For such a care-free relationship, I sure did managed to screw it up. A lot.

Online Hook-Ups... And Break-Ups

"I don't seem to know what my end-game is. I certainly won't be in a physical relationship with any one of these people. They won't be sending me nude pictures and sexy texts..." How wrong I was. For all my lying, the sexy chats and pictures began with one of my online friends. I'm either too good at deceiving now, or maybe I really am desirable. Probably the former. But started it did. Innocent little teasing texts at first. Then the nude pictures and erotic messages.

But like a famous line from a movie I love so dear, I'm like a dog chasing cars. Even if I caught one I wouldn't know what to do with it. And so it was here. All my lying had once again resulted in a trusting girl sharing herself with me. Me. If it can even be called that. Some sick perversion of me. Vikki had done it and now again. Every sultry message like the embodiment of my lies before me.

Just three days after my first sexual encounter with this woman, I decided to end it. I'm just not that kind of guy. I like the mystery, the courtship. I want to date a girl. I'm not even that interested in sex! Every time we finished one of our sessions, I came away feeling dirty. Like scum. And knowing the only way I was in this situation was through lying, it made it even worse. I know it's cliche, but it really was me and not her. I know she wanted more. I knew I could never have it. To be so cruel, she wasn't even my type. I guess I'm just a jerk.

Online Hang-ups

It's a common misconception that the internet is linking us together in these high-tech times. For me, it couldn't be farther from the truth. It's a horrible place for people like me. People who don't necessarily fit into social groups in real life, who are smart and have a way with words. Who are so desperate for everyone to like them and to be what everyone wants them to be, that they'll use the internet as just another mask behind which to hide. That's me.

In real life, girls won't take a second look at me. People won't take a second look at me. It's not because I'm not charming or good looking, but almost as if they can sense it. As if some lingering stench surrounds me. Only a select few seem to move past the outer layer of me, into a place where few people have seen. It's been there all my life. Bullied from a young age, everyone seems to think they can have a piece of me. Even now, with people my own age. No matter how I act - confident or shy, serious or annoying, caring or indifferent - people either don't take me seriously, attack me or let me down. I've never even been on a date.

But online, no one can seem my face. No one can see me. I'm the master of masks and this is my greatest. I can use words and humour and pick any girl I want. I even managed to score myself an online girlfriend, which is further than I ever got in real life. I can be 18 or 20 or 22. I can be the magazine photographer or the apartment-dwelling bachelor. I can be six foot and have perfect hair. I can be what I know people want to hear. What will get me... What will it get me?

I don't seem to know what my end-game is. I certainly won't be in a physical relationship with any one of these people. They won't be sending me nude pictures and sexy texts. We'll never be best friends. And yet I mascaraed around like we will. I try to fit into their view and be what will get them to love me. So I'll be their best friend. But it's not me. It's never me. It's my mask. The real me is all alone, hidden out of view crying. Wondering why he even has to do this to himself. Why he can't be himself. Alone. And yet every girl I meet online I become older and manlier. The mere prospect of beginning an acquaintance with someone as me is terrifying. I guess deep down, I'm hoping against hope that someone will truly see the inner me and love him. That one of these beautiful people online will magically come out and be my best friend. But that's never going to happen. All that's going to happen is the fact I know that not only am I never going to be friends with these people in real life or online in any capacity I'd like, but that the person they're friends with isn't really me in any case!

Thank goodness Andy hasn't asked me my age yet. So far I've been getting into bars with him without being asked for my ID. I'm old enough, but he's nearly 30 and I don't think he knows just how young I am. Even my own body hides me. I'm so young and yet I can pass for someone in their late twenties. Just another way to hide.

I'm the master of masks.

New Beginnings

As the saying goes, in every life there's a time for a reaping and a sowing. And for me, the fronds of my life are just beginning to sprout again, up from the ashes. Looking back over these months of blog posts, I thought I saw a life being undone. Now I see that it is a life being reborn. A time of finding my way, my place, my voice and my heart. Of seeing people fall away and of seeing people rise. From my grandmother's death I was able to start a career. From the losses of my love and my friends, I was able to achieve perspective. Whatever the case, this time in my life has not destroyed me, but left me experienced - somewhat more than I would've enjoyed - but experienced all the same. Reborn from the fire to face it all over again.

You know of my troubles with family and love and life. My time at art school finished with a bang of a similar fashion. It was mostly my fault of course; never seeing the outcome of my lies or actions until they're gone and I'm wishing there was an "undo" button. I asked a girl out, as far as I knew it was for a date, and we went to the cinema. Only there did I find out she had a boyfriend. I flowed with it all the same and when I was asked by my art tutor the next day how my date went, I said it went brilliantly, not naming names. However harmless the lie, time and again I find out that full honesty is the best medicine, no matter how horrible. Had I not shared this lie in the presence of another student, I may still be at art school today. But this was not an ordinary student.

Since I started at the art school, one student, Rick, had had it out for me for no reason at all. My presence annoyed him in his words. As he was a cruel, pot-smoking douche which everyone seemed to like, I tried my best to avoid him as much as possible. But it just so happened Rick was in the carpool on the way to school when I divulged my status-increasing lie to my tutor. So far, so good. Rick looked suspicious, but I felt that my lie went down well and that I'd gotten away with it. But little did I know that it was only the beginning of a chain of events which would lead to a terrible conclusion.

The girl I asked out was a friend of a friend, who I hung out with at school. When that friend texted me about why I hadn't been going to school as much lately, I joked around that I was dying. Hilarious to me. Less so to my friend. Somehow this got around to the girl I went to the movies with and from there, somehow Rick found out about it and then also that I never went on a "date". The car ride to school the next day, to say the least, was tense. Rick claimed that my date was a sham and that I should stop texting the girls. Little did I know that Rick had (at least in my eyes) either a crush on the girl I went to the cinema with and/or a vendetta against me. I passed it off and said that I dated several people, none of which he knew, and that it was none of his business. Luckily my fellow carpoolers bought the story and defended me. I came close to punching Rick that day; in fact I did try and trip him up on the stairs after I found out that the two girls had completely snubbed me and were gossiping. Rick threatened to kill me and I haven't been back since because quite frankly, I know I'll do the prick over and I've spent too long being a good person for him to mess it up.

So you see, once again lies have given me a valuable lesson. A lie to make myself seem more impressive and a joke which was in bad taste. Harmless. To everyone but myself. Time and again the consequences have proven this to me. I'll admit, I was unlucky to tell a lie while in the presence of the one person willing to doggedly disprove it just for the hell of it, but in any case, not telling it in the first place would've saved me a lot of heart ache. So you see, although many things change, some things never seem to. I never seem to learn from these lessons. I always seem to think I'm too smart to get caught lying. Too cunning. In the end I guess I'm not.

The reason I came on tonight was because another of my best friends online simply deleted me and made sure I could never contact him again for nothing more than messaging him and "not leaving him alone". I'll admit, I'm upset. He'd been my friend for more than a year and we'd had some good times together. I just guess that people don't see the world the way I do. I'm loyal and if I have a problem with you, I'll tell you instead of simply cutting you off. I'll be emotionally intuitive. I'll care. As my parents always tell me, the world just doesn't think like that. But in this time of new growth, it doesn't register as a strike against my heart, but as a new leaf of experience for me to grow from. Even as I write, the hurt is going. Probably because I also know that just a new experience comes, so do new friends. Enter Andy.

I spent a solid month lapping up any work I could get my hands on via the local student job search. On one such job I met Andy. We clicked immediately and although he doesn't contact me before I contact him, he seems like a good soul with a good head. Just as my view of people was waning, I find someone who is decent. Someone who doesn't act like a schoolboy, as with Rick or my other friends. Someone who is mature. Thankfully he hasn't asked my age, because if he had when I first met him I'd have probably told him a lie, and I've had too many relationships begin on a lie. It's not that I want to lie. It's just that it's safe within this shell. This mask where I can be whatever you want me to be. Where people take you seriously and don't dismiss you on age or who you date or what you do.

But wear my mask I still do. I'm even lying to my extended family now. After my grandmother died, I was able to acquire a professional camera from her estate. Although I'd rather have my grandmother, it seems almost a gift from her to me so I can have a career. But before long, I just have to taint it. I'm already saying that I've gotten a job at a magazine to my family, friends and even strangers, when the reality is that I haven't even sent in my portfolio. Every time I tell a lie it makes me feel that bit more distant from others.

This new beginning is too brilliant to taint with my lies. It shouldn't just be a new chance to put on new masks to make me feel secure. Maybe I've been burnt again and again to realize that I'm meant to. Maybe I'm not supposed to cover my vulnerability with these masks. Maybe this new chance is just that. A new chance. A chance to feel life as myself, the only version of me I'll ever be. But it's baby steps right now. It's hard to break the habit of a lifetime. I'm still just poking my head through the dirt.

Second Thoughts

The promise I made to God has been bothering me - I told him I wouldn't play games with Vikki if he helped me sort out the situation. So does that mean what I've done is breaking that promise? I mean, I really do wish she'll come back to me and say that she still has feelings for me, despite what I fear, so in a way, it's like the game I swore to not participate in. Am I only hiding under the veil that I'm doing this for her when I'm actually still trying to win her back? If I don't post again it means I've been struck by some kind of lightning bolt from the heavens since I'm assuming that God reads all the fine print of contracts very carefully.

I mean, it wasn't just a promise, it was a covenant. The strongest type of promise (heck, I was desperate for help) and somehow I feel like I've got this bulls eye on my forehead with God lining me up thinking about how I've broken the covenant. Not only have I lost the one I love, my health, my happiness, my life (practically), my drive, but now I've pissed off God. It wasn't intentional, and I'm not even sure if this counts, but it's got me worried.

On other fronts, I still await a reply from Vikki, if one is even going to come. If you love someone, you try and contact them, so this is just reinforcing the fact that she doesn't care any more. I've found solace in video games however - I've found a group of friends on there which I can play with until whatever hour of the day, so I feel part of something. Pathetic as it seems, I feel happy mucking around with them, getting my mind of things. But every second I depart, my worries set back in. Right before bed too so I can look forward to a sleepless night.

The fact of the matter is, I haven't done any schoolwork in about a month or two. I'm meant to be doing some art at home and filling in my study logs, but now I don't even have the will to fake them. I feel like a real loser sometimes, but I don't see how to move forward. I'm hoping once I get some closure from Vikki that magically I'll move on with my life, but it's taking its toll on me since I'm remaining dormant for so long. But what if...?

What if I don't magically get back on track after Vikki replies, if she even does. What if all this time I've just wasted is for nothing? All I can think about is how much damage I've done to my body with all this stress, not eating, not sleeping and not getting out. And you know what? Deep down, and it really does scare me when I feel this way, I don't care. I enjoy the fact I'm destroying myself. Whether it's for attention or for someone to fight for me to save myself or something else, I don't know - all I know is that when I look at my tired, sad face in the mirror at night I get this sick twinge in my stomach thinking fuck you. I'm going to fuck you up really nice.

And it scares me.

Artist's Block

The term back at school has been tedious. I'm not going to lie to you, I've felt like giving up at least a dozen times each day. Some days I feel that my only purpose there is the break-time game of cricket. The whole ordeal with Jaffa had been depressing and I'd formed a serious case of artist's block. I'd decided to paint a portrait of a man, but for nearly a week I struggled and struggled to get the face right. Even then it felt wrong. Day after day I worked away. And by Friday I'd had enough.

I blanked the whole canvass. White primer straight over the portrait. And to tell you the truth, I've never felt better. Before the coat had even dried I was splashing colour up there and making a mess, completely different from before - I'm colour blind and have let it get the better of me. I use black and white and small brushes, and that's it. But not today. And from the corner of my eye I saw my muse.

Jaffa, the fat bastard, was in my class that day, avoiding me. All my anger, all the hate, forever boiling inside me - I let it explode on the canvass. I'd turned my emotion into a work of art at fatty's expense, and it felt good. Ever since that day I've been reenergized for the day. What's better than art where you can learn and humiliate your rivals at the same time? Well, utterly destroying them is one...

Jaffa always complained to me about the way people thought he was gay. Forever was he saying "Let's not talk here or they'll think we are lovers" or "Do you think she thinks I'm a homo?". I too all my life have had this problem. A well groomed, polite and smart man must be gay riight? Well, so thought almost every tormentor I've had over my limited years. I know I'm not, and am comfortable because I know who I am. And this knowing gives me the strength to joke about my sexuality. If people call me gay I say I probably am, followed by some witty insult. And it was for this portrait that I'd use my security, and Jaffa's insecurity, for evil not good.

Underneath Jaffa's mug, I'm writing "We Were Lovers!" or something of the sort, in a nice pink tone. This will of course be displayed in both the foyer cabinet and the end of year exhibition, where I'm musing with selling it for free, just so I can show everyone how worthless he is. As I said, I don't get mad, I get even.

A Friend Falls, A Lover Rises

Well, this has been a bumpy few weeks for me. Love and revenge have been making their rounds and I certainly have been buying in bulk. As soon as the first mask fell from my face of lies, my life has altered dramatically. People are beginning to know the real me. Slowly but surely, like a faded fort resting into the sea, my truth is crumbling into my real world. And although love has been the catalyst, the sense of joy which has entered my life is what keeps pushing me to reveal more about myself. Unfortunately, not all could handle the new me. 

Jaffa, surprisingly, was the first to go. Although the honesty was good for me, he offered nothing else. For an overweight foreign man, he talked a lot about his conquests and girls he had crushes on. For a man with only one friend too, he sure didn't talk a lot about me though. The other day I expressed how I felt, how he never inquired about me and only used me for advice, and the dog which I had fed bit my hand at its most vulnerable moment. All the effort I'd put into listening to his problems and soothing his ego had backfired when suddenly he was confronted with the fact that I might actually not want to talk about him for once. The results have been somewhat amusing.

In his usual passive-aggressive-I want-to-kill-you way, Jaffa stayed for the last meal he'd ever be having at my house and left. From then on, his words have been "I don't want to see you for two lifetimes" and "Fuck you". Fortunately for him, I don't get mad. Unfortunately for him, I just get even. Which is why I am painting my latest portrait of his ugly mug so I can ridicule him before displaying it in the school foyer. 

But where one falls, another takes his place. And Vikki is just what my life needed. We have much in common and for the last few weeks, I've been living of her love and our times together. From the moment I wake up, I'm thinking about her, until the moment I fall asleep. And even then I've been dreaming about her. When I think about how much she loves me, I know that all is good in the world and that I myself am a good person. I hope that you know love, reader, because it is a wonderful thing. It has turned a sad, lonely recluse into a person much more beautiful. And I hope the wave I'm riding never ends, because if it does, I know I'll fall hard without anyone who can catch me.

A Friend Knocks

I don't have many friends. I have never needed any and the few I had turned out to be tools any way. I can't complain; I never sought popularity, but always wore just enough masks to be socially acceptable. I'd sit and observe below the radar, keeping out of the spot light so I could work behind the scenes, always dumbing myself down socially and intellectually so I wouldn't be a threat. I really did feel like I was a spy on an alien world sometimes, conforming to others.

Sure I was liked by those who got to know me, but I was also bullied like hell throughout my early life. This year it all changed though. I had enrolled into tertiary education for the first time. A new setting, new people - I wasn't going to pass it up. So I decided on a new me. Everything I did was probably the exact opposite; outgoing, talkative and witty. The problem is it worked.

I know it sounds strange, but I was suddenly popular, outgoing and well liked. The times someone did pick a fight with me it either bounced off or sorted itself out. I liked this new me. But for reason, I wasn't quite the same when at home. Sure I was happier, but remnants of old me kept popping through for a cup of tea. Each different side of me was conflicting but at the same time couldn't live without one another.

Am I this new happy guy or the old reclusive. Which is the mask and which is reality? Am I going mad? Sure there has been a history of mental disorders in my extended family, but I don't honestly believe that. Every day one side is either stronger or weaker and I'm finding it hard to divide the two. What I need is someone I can be open with who isn't a blog page. As fortune would have it, that someone happened to be knocking on my door at 9am this morning.

Sure 9am isn't early for most, but if you've gone to sleep at 4am that same morning you don't have to be a math teacher to work out the sum equals cranky. I barely had time to notice my pounding headache before I was embroiled in a conversation with, shall we say, "Jaffa"; he's Indian, larger than life in more ways than one, optimistic, vain, about 20 years my senior, utterly honest and incredibly loyal. Say no more. He's been following me around like a bad smell ever since we met at school, turning up at all hours to show me his artwork and telling about his dreams and life. On any given day, he'd annoy the shit out of me, but for some reason he's the only one outside my family I can be truly honest with. You couldn't get two more opposite people, but we get along like a bulimic and a toilet bowl. 

Maybe it's what I need, maybe it's not; I'm willing to ride it along to see what comes out. I could use a bit of honestly right now in my life and I definitely think that Jaffa can give it to me. Hopefully someone else can see what's really there behind my masks even if I can't.