‘Theme from Antarctica’ – Vangelis
She came back ages ago. She wasn’t particularly any of the things I expected her to be. Oh god, this is like some terrible play. I hope I can get out of it tomorrow.
I reckon if my life continues in this vein, then I’ll be heading for a mental breakdown. It’s on the cards. I just hope next week creates a diversion – pastoral laziness and eye-murdering beauty. And fun, if Stan and Flash are tuned in.
Oh fuck. It’s me, isn’t it? Don’t ask what, cos I don’t know. But it is, isn’t it?
Miranda’s writing to Mark now…
All my love
DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU…
YOU’RE ALONE ON A VERY ENLIGHTENING JOURNEY. YOU MAY NOT LIKE WHAT YOU SEE. WHAT MAY NOT LIKE YOU WHAT SEE. BUT YOU WILL SURVIVE. CONSTANTLY GROWING, ADAPTING, CHANGING, EMBRACING AND REJECTING. REMEMBER: YOU ARE DESTINED FOR GREATNESS…
‘Stand By Me’ – John Lennon
I GET SO PISSED OFF!
LISTEN TO ALL THOSE SITUATION TAPES. WATCH THE CHINESE PLAY + MANSFIELD PARK + THE PANTOMIMES + LOOT + MACBETH + TEST OF COMPASSION. READ MY FRANKENSTEIN, MY DIARIES, MY LETTERS, MY POETRY. LISTEN TO SUGARBLOOD, LISTEN TO THE MUSIC OF DARK IS DESIRE, READ ALL THOSE SONGS. CONSIDER BERWIN GROOMSTOOL. COUNT MY QUALIFICATIONS. IF YOU MUST, THEN EXAMINE MY HAPHAZARD LIFE. EXAMINE MY CONSTANTLY CHANGING APPEARANCE; SEE HOW ADAPTABLE AND EVER-CHANGING I AM. COUNT MY FRIENDS AND CONCEIVE OF THE WAYS IN WHICH I HAVE TOUCHED AND AFFECTED THEIR LIVES; FOR BETTER OR WORSE, I HAVE MADE AN IMPACT ON THEM ALL. CHRIST, COUNT THE GIRLS I’VE BEEN EMOTIONALLY/PHYSICALLY INVOLVED WITH. TELL ME THEN… IF I AM SO CREATIVE, SO CAPABLE, THEN... WHY? WHY AM I STUCK IN A LIMBO WITH NO WAY OF GETTING MYSELF OUT THERE?
OH, I’M GONNA SHOW YOU, YOU FUCKING CRAP BASTARDS.
I FUCKING WELL AM.
‘Get Back’ – The Beatles
This day is CRAP.
I just read, and I enjoyed it. Better than making feeble conversation. Honestly, I sat looking at her in a mirror opposite and found myself wondering how gorgeous it might feel to kill her. I decided to relieve myself of the sudden aggressive instinct by pissing in their sink. A good ‘fuck off’ gesture, I thought.
‘A Day In The Life’ – The Beatles
LAST NITE’S DREAM…
I was in an old building like a school, with various adults (my Dad was one of them) and we were making jokes and doing silly voices about something we’d heard about a girl that was leaving home to marry a man from the motor trade. Everybody absolutely creased whenever someone quipped with the normally unfunny line ‘You’d better pack a bag…’ – especially two of the adults I hadn’t properly seen at first. Then I voice told us that Ritcherd and John were due on stage at any moment. I started to leave and one of the main laughing adults gripped me by the shoulders and looked me in the eyes. It was Paul McCartney (as he looked for the LET IT BE sessions).
My mind went crazy; here I was, with a Beatle – and he was my mate! Why was he looking at me like this, though? My mind said, ‘Wow! I’ve got to talk to him; be near him. I hope he invites me over to his house.’ And Paul said, ‘Ritcherd, you ought to get a few personal belongings together…’ This pleased and excited me, but then he added, ‘Yup. You’d better pack a bag.’ Everyone cracked up laughing at this and so did I. Then, some school kid came up to me and said, ‘Tell John to get a move on.’ Then John Lennon came up to me, totally freaking me out and I had a lengthy conversation with him and Paul. But John and I had to rush off because we were helping out with a college play or something. So I rushed backstage and the SM kid said, ‘You’re too late.’ I then realised that, for some reason, John + I had been required to mime to ‘A DAY IN THE LIFE’ on stage, but Stan had had to do it instead. Now, John was nowhere to be seen, so I decided to leave, pulling my leg on the curtain and accidentally knocking all the set down. I then crashed to the floor, just as the song got to ‘I’d love to turn you on’ and John landed on top of me, but he was singing the lyrics to The Situation’s ‘spoof’ version, ‘A NOB IN THE WIFE’. As the set fell on us all, he sang, ‘I can’t escape either’.
And I found myself waking up in fits of laughter.
‘Closing Titles from The Bounty’ – Vangelis
MY TICKET TO ‘UP NORTH’ HAS ARRIVED!
MY SENTENCE IS OVER.
Like, I mean, the lustful stuff on Thursday and Saturday. She could have been anyone. And she could have done with being someone a lot damn’ sexier as well.
She had a cigarette first thing this morning. It made me want to beat her fucking senseless; just smack the fuck out of that little stuck-up bitch. Not that I would, but I can’t deny feeling it. I hate her smoking. I dunno why. Probably just because it’s her. Pretty inconsiderate in this tiny room with the windows and doors shut and me asleep and my clothes absorbing the stink. I did just want to beat her head in. She has too many cigarettes anyway. She also drinks tonnes of strong coffee, so her breath is fucking disgusting.
GOD! SHE’S A PILE OF SHIT.
‘The Longships’ – Enya
My split personality is probably caused by some childhood incident. I understand this.
I could be about to flake out completely. Flash should help, though; this holiday should.
I regret feeling those things about Miranda. I was exaggerating, but I do feel that I could so easily turn against her emotionally. I have felt unable to NOT rebel against her snobbery. I don’t think it’s merely ‘the place I’m in’, as I doubt I’ll find myself rebelling against Flash at all.
GOODBYE, MIRANDA. FOR EVER.
Now I can get back to finding the real me. It’s like The Prisoner or V for Vendetta or The Chinese Play or Mansfield – me fighting the other me’s, in order to find the true me.
[All very ZEN. So what went wrong? – Ritcherd 1999]
‘In My Life’ – The Beatles
I met up with Flash today. We talked vaguely about going on holiday; it was a bit lethargic. Very pleased to see him, though. We’re both staying at Aunty Vi’s in Kellington, because Gerry, his mum (and, yes, I know she’s pregnant, so fair enough), had adopted her semi-regular ‘vaguely annoying’ persona. I hate this show of ‘tact’ she has to adopt if she doesn’t want me about the place. This passive-aggressive ‘I’d rather he didn’t stay over’ business or stuff like, ‘He couldn’t stay at his Gran’s, could he?’ I actually wish she’d be blunter and just say ‘No’. It’d save a lot of time and Flash wouldn’t have to play the guilty messenger, conveying bad news in the manner of his mother. It makes me feel very uncomfortable, unwanted. I mean, what is it about? Anyway, that’s my only complaint and a very small one. A pointless one. After all, we’re having a nice time at Kellington, if a little low-key.
[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’section below) / ‘Berwin Groomstool’ is an iteration of the Situation character ‘William Whicker’ and falls under joint copyright of Elton Townend Jones and Waen Shepherd / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction – cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and almost always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context. Never forget: no man is an island. If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 1 July 2012 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]
Next time: ‘I like Flash…’