Some day.

An awfully hot day. Again, I hate these days, even if it is only because I can’t stand the small talk. And me mentioning Scotland and it’s cool, cold temperate, all year round climate. I’ve got to give up on that. I hate, never repeat anything to different people. That’s got to be one of the rules. Possibly of exxcentricity, possibly also of non-boredom. Possibly of being an ‘interesting’ person. Possibly not, etc etc etc.

I think I’m a chameleon. I can dance like other people, five minutes of a music video, and I’ve got somebody’s body language down pat. I can play squash like other people, not good enough to beat them unfortunately, but if I’m playing with them, I’ll copy their style. I can draw like other people, even though I’m shit at drawing. Actually I bet everyone is like this. Aren’t they?

I’m going home on Friday. Back to the old parents. That’s the thing about being a kid, you have no responsibility, not even for yourself. Everything is right. I wish I hadn’t lived in the country as a kid. I want to have been a city kid, having friends and stuff, not just people I met at school. My, what if everyone else had friends at home, and I didn’t? Damn that big country house. I just had the sheep, the wee river and the bridge, the nettles, that weird mineral formation in the shape of a birds nest, the compost heap, those funny wispy trees in front of it, the apples, and the little hamster houses I constructed out of slate. That big hole in the garden/ What was that for? I remember it getting filled  up with water that turned to mud. It reminds me of a Vietnam war film I never knew the name of. That was another thing, mid afternoon TV. Cycling around the mental asylum next door, catching catfish in the river. Exploring the wood, sifting the soil and building tree houses out of orange drainage pipe. Clifton Hall, about the only thing I remember about that is flying a wind up rubber band plane on the field. That was great, the plane really flew. Where did that fascination come from? Maybe I built a tree house in their woods too, maybe it was somewhere else. I don’t remember. Nathan went to Clifton hall for a couple of years didn’t he? What was that like? I’ve never wondered that before, have I? Maybe that made him what he is? Early socialising. Hell who knows what went on their.

I went to the best school in Scotland. Weird shit. I didn’t even know, till know. £9000 a year. And I didn't even board. I didn’t think it was that good. But then schools everywhere are poor.

Introverted then, no friends at home. Who cares right? Would I be writing this if I had friends at home when I was young?

Burying my hamster in the back garden then, later digging up the spot again to see it’s skeleton. I never found it though. I dug all over that place. Mum must have found it and binned it.

Letting beans run around the garden and him getting hidden under the slab stone in the middle of the garden. / Letting the school mice run around outside. I wonder if they’ve died of cancer yet. I expect the school had them put down. Katherine would have made a good vet, she diagnosed them as having the cancer, she knew that that was what mice usually die of in old age. I thought they were getting fat. She didn’t get in to any of her five vet courses though. Gone to UMIST.

The playroom, the wonder of batteries. Then the landing, my room on the…left, Nathan’s on the right? Mine had a window out onto the courtyard with some sort of chiming thing I got as a present, maybe from Alana. Thick, solid windows. An old brown dresser, with a tilt mirror. That scared me, because of the ghosts that might appear in it. The noises at night. The absolutely abhorrent and spider filled outdoor toilet. The garage, the garage was great. Full of stuff, a concrete plane up to it. The clothes line. The road that I never walked to the end of. I don’t remember what’s past that road. My drive the road, and then what? Jubilees walk on one side, the mental home, which went on to the cricket grounds, else that was a dream, then the road… Trees on one side, stream on the other, but then what? We had walks along it, I’m sure, I remember the torches, a small path of dark Technicolor in a monochrome night. And a landrover? We drove behind a landrover, when mum’s car broke down…

The trees next to the driveway. Or rather shrubbery, the berries and the leave. I remember them. They didn’t continue for all the way to the exit though did they. But at the exit there was a big pine tree, and a rockery? Yeah, must have been a rockery. And Dad cut his thumb when he cut down the pine to make way for the rockery. He scared me by pretending her had no thumb, that it had been cut off completely.
What is in Nathan’s head? [Nathan?  Yeah, ha ha funny] Clifton hall then the academy.

Was I sick on a bus once? Did I really puke? Or just feel sick.?

If I could selectively remember, would I be a different person? I wish, somebody please graft, confident memories onto my brain please. Learning memories, not creating lego castles memories, not commodore 64 memories, that Nathan always beat me at, small wonder, he being 3 year s older than me. It was on a mahogany wooden shelf, with a sofa opposite, and a shelf underneath with games and stuff on, there was a spider there once. I remember. I want more Jelly parties in my memories. I’m out of the party pahse now. I need more birthday parties, when did I ever have a birthday party? But I wouldn’t have been able to stand them. All those people running around my house traumatising me. Blow out the candles and it’s all over. Or they relight in somekindof robotic, undead, un meaningful recursion, again and again, till you leave em, drained of all the significance it might have had the first time. I'd ’ave cried at birthday parties, I’m sure. They would never have been right. What is wrong with me in that way?

Too much nature, not enough people. Did mum and ad fight back then? I don’t remember… Did I run upstairs to get away, back then?

I don’t want to interrogate my inner past anymore. It’s like a core, the foundation of my memories, I’m only as tall as that little child inside me, and I don’t want to make her remember. I’m going to watch TV.