Harry Pears

By the time this is finished, it will probably be about three months since my last post. And just over four months since my last real post. That’s a third of a year. I really am dreadful for saying what I want to. Or I am just a major procrastinator, as the case may be.

The thing is, I enjoy writing. And as you may know, I have an opinion on most things, and am usually willing to share it. Ie, I am one of those twats. If this was a talking blog, it wouldn’t shut up — I could always find something to grumble about. Like the rain that has just started hitting my window. Although, having said that, I rather like the rain at the moment. As long as it has stopped by the morning; that is my only request of it. That wasn’t grammatically nice, was it?

As I was saying, before I got rudely interrupted by the precipitation. That is why I briefly considered using “AudioBoo”. I then decided that:
1. No body would listen.  2. I hate my voice  3. I would never have anything to say.
But I won’t give up. See, I haven’t given up. Not that this is worthwhile. But for that matter, barely anything on this little WordPress weblog is worthwhile. For anyone. Even for myself. Apart from the last couple of posts. I am pretty proud of them.

I am currently listening to Funeral For A Friend, after trying Bring Me The Horizon, listening for all of ten seconds and switching to Bullet For My Valentine. They were also too “heavy” for me. According to Last.fm I have listened to FFAF before. I think I remember doing so. This reminds me of a column I read in Wired magazine a couple of months ago. It was all about meta data. I got me thinking that a lot of what I do is tracked and stored. My listening habits, for example, are mostly scrobbled, and have been for a couple of years now. And my software usage is also tracked. (The outcomes are horribly depressing). I then have Twitter and Facebook to record anything interesting I have got up to. (“Interesting” used in the loosest possible way, of course). And then we have my Three-Six-Five project, which sometimes records the weather for where I was that day, interesting things I did, or did not do, and just other general things.

I believe keeping track of things is important. I like to do it. I guess it means that I have a record for how I have wasted my life? Having said that though, I have been up to quite a bit recently. I went to see You Me At Six in March, I am going to see Blink-182 in August (then going to Switzerland), and I am also going to see Mark Watson in November. It will be a costly year. On top of the tickets, I need to pay for transport and hotel for Blink. And I also bought a new laptop this Easter. If money did grow on trees, I would be harvesting my crops and buying an SLR camera, and an iPod Touch/Microsoft Zune HD. I am as yet undecided which to go for. They both cost roughly the same, but iPods are very over-rated. The Touch does, however have the massive advantage of Apps, whilst the Zune has HD. It’s tough. I read something the other day, claiming September’s iPod Touch may have a camera (but they said the same last year…).

Unless you have been living on the moon for the last couple of months, (or in your father’s cellar for several years…), you will be aware that the UK is having its general election on May the 6th. I don’t think anything needs to be said about it, really. Other than “Cameron is a Tory Twat”. (“twat” has more alliterary value than “cunt”, you see). I wonder if this post will get my site blocked at school… Probably. the “t word” twice, the “c word *gasp*” once, and counting. Ah well, as long as Three-Six-Five doesn’t get blocked.

Aside from being slightly controversial and foul-mouthed, I have not said anything worth saying in this. But that is the joy of having not many readers, I suppose, loosing you all wouldn’t really be loosing much. Not that you are worthless or anything, but one isn’t many at all.

The rain did stop, I think, it brightened up, and now it has got heavier, but it is going quite straight down. And a bird just flew inbetween the sun and my window, casting a shadow briefly across my inaccurate typing hands. It is still bright, actually… The sun is out… I just checked — there is half of a raindow. The right half. It turns out my dad is asleep with a game of solitaire open on his laptop, and the snooker on television. How can you fall asleep doing two such riveting activities!? My mother and sister are at church. Who goes to church on a Sunday evening? I wasn’t even aware there were services on Sunday evenings. But in all honesty, I don’t really care much for religion. I prefer Physics.

On Physics, I don’t believe I have said so on here, I have chosen my A Level subjects. I am staying at my current school’s sixth form. Okay, it isn’t the best. And, I’m not going to lie, I could easily get into a better sixth form if I get my predicted grades. But I won’t. I don’t see the point in changing schools, changing teachers, making mostly new friends, and travelling for hours to get to and from school each day. I would rather go to a sixth form with a pretty terrible Ofsted report where I know the teachers, and they know me, and most of my friends are staying. Because that’s all school is about, really, learning how to get on with people. Lunch time is, anyway. And the food, you can’t forget food at lunchtimes. (And breaks, for that matter…).

Anyway; Maths; Further Maths; Physics; Chemistry; History. Yes, that is five. Yes, it is practically suicide. Yes, Further Maths is hard. Yes, I will manage. For I am God. Yes, I will drop one. No, I will carry Further Maths on. Yes, it will be History. Yes, that is unless Chemistry is horrendous.

Now please excuse me whilst I fetch a drink and decide whether I want to bore you any further out of yours minds, and into the ocean. If you are lucky, I will bore you right out of the atmosphere, and you can be space men and/or women. Get your breathing apparatus and space suits at the ready. x

Lemonade. Schweppes. Father is still asleep. The rain appears to have stopped. I am thinking about today’s photo. I may go out and take photographs of wet things. But that wouldn’t be interesting. We shall see, hey? I have now decided to try Taking Back Sunday. I’m on the fence. All Time Low are better. He seems to breathe too much for my liking. But it has been less than two minutes, so far. Now over two minutes. But still less than two minutes thirty.

I think I shall now watch Russell Howard’s Good News. Maybe Outnumbered as well. If I have anything to add afterwards, there is no doubt I will add it. And then I shall maybe do some more on my German coursework.

Okay, I watched Good News, did some other stuff, went outside, and it is lovely. Not cold at all, sky clearing, I took a few terrible photos, and it looks like tomorrow may be a very good day. So, from what I thought would be a few days worth of writing, this chunk of utter bollocks (the “other b word” once as well, now) which equates to over 7,000 characters – probably going on one thousand words – was typed in probably no more than ninety minutes, excluding breaks. Excellent. Are you approaching Saturn, yet?

365 has, for the foreseeable future, moved to Flickr. And if it does return to WordPress, it will take a while for all of the previous posts to return, because some evil DDoSers caused my entire 365 folder to disappear, and Josh could not find the upload folder. =[

Oh well, at least the database is okay (or so I hear).

And I also lost (along with my meta.php file) my style sheet, and so my normal theme has gone. And I quite like this Classic theme, so don’t be surprised if it takes me a while to reupload the stylesheet.

Basically, this was in case you actually look at my Three-Six-Five and wonder where it is. If you do, thanks. :3

The same as last year’s New Year post? Maybe; I have forgotten. Just another cliché? Yes, most definitely.

So. A new year, a new decade. A new start? There are many things a new year may be, but a new start is not one of them.

In middle school, the head teacher would always do the same assembly at the start of each term. He would crumple a piece of paper up and throw it away. He would then have a blank piece of paper; a new start; a clean slate. But really? No, not at all. Everyone knows what you did the previous term. Everyone remembers your mistakes.

The same goes for New Years. People may choose to forget other peoples’ mistakes, but it isn’t a new start. Tell yourself it’s a new start, please do, but it isn’t a new start.

Despite this, I will be going with the whole new start business – the New Year seems like a convenient time to set personal goals and challenges. A time to change. But, why do we want to change who we are? Well, I suppose that doesn’t really need answering.

But why do we do this? Celebrate, and make a big deal out of, the fact that twelve months has passed and we will start naming our days from January again?

Personally, the only reason I take an interest in the New Year is because everyone else does; I’m a sheep. My parents couldn’t care less about the New Year, and so the last time I celebrated it was 1999/2000 when some friends had a party. Alas, I was only 5 and a half, and all I remember is waking up when everyone started yelling the countdown. But I was there, in the circle, arms crossed holding hands, with everyone around me drunkenly attempting Auld Lang Syne as the clocks ticked around to midnight.

But that is besides the point.

What I am trying to say, is that time and dates are really just a universal, age-old system, to ensure that people do not miss their train, right? So what are we celebrating? Is it just another reason to drink excessively? Or is there a reason?

If I had to choose one reason why the New Year is one of the lesser more important “dates in my diary”, it would be that the New Year is a time to reflect on the previous year, and, I guess, to be grateful for what we have.

And I’m not just talking materialistically. This past year, I have made a few really good friends. (I did say it would be clichéd; this next comment even more so). One of which, I trust with anything. And I have only known them a year. (Told you so).

And then there are the experiences. I’m almost positive I will never forget going to see The Wombats in July, or going to Ireland in August, or Summer camp.

It’s these things that mean something to me; that I want to remember. The New Year seems as good a time as any to collect up all these memories to look back on in years to come. Especially the childhood friends (if you can still call them that when you get to 15/16)?

I came across a blog post, detailing some guy’s Christmas card list. He states “As for the hundreds of kids I went to school with, they’ve all fallen completely off radar.” And, certainly with my parents, that appears to be the normal thing to happen. My mother still keeps in contact with one or two of her school friends, and as for my father, I am not aware of any that he is still in touch with.

When you think about it quickly, you will probably think, “Oh, that’s understandable. You move on, go to uni, get a job, and end up living on the other side of the country.” But, really, is this how it should be? I suppose you can’t really argue with it, because that is the way it is, although, it shouldn’t be this way.

Childhood friends, especially those who you are closest to from ages 13/14 until 17/18 are, at least from my position as a 15 year old guy, some of the most important people in your lives. You grow up and develop around them. They influence you, change you, shape your personality. They become a part of you. You can put your ultimate trust in a close childhood friend, and do things you would never do with anyone else. (And no, I am not talking about the swapping of bodily fluids. Although…No, just no).

So to me, the New Year is a time to reflect the good, and the bad, points from the previous year. To remember how grateful I should be. And I guess to also think ahead; to set targets, have ambitions. Resolutions.

Now, resolutions. Why do we only talk about resolutions at New Year? Surely resolutions should be kept and made throughout the year. Otherwise, wouldn’t the, I don’t know how to phrase it… The standard of humanity, I guess, decline as the year went on? When Christmas arrives, no one is still keeping to the resolutions they pledged to twelve months prior, are they?

I suppose I do have some resolutions myself. A couple of which were made with others, and involve social interaction. My main target for the next year, however silly I find the idea of “resolutions”, will probably to cease procrastinating and find motivation. Finding motivation sounds virtually impossible though…

Here’s to another, (hopefully) successful, enjoyable and brilliant, year, and decade, then!

One evening, I think it was Boxing Day, I was lying in bed, staring out of my window. My eyes were drawn to this one star, the brightest I could see, in front of me. I was transfixed on this star for several minutes. And it made me think.

We are insignificant. All of our actions, our steps, our lives. They do not matter. Nothing matters. We are nothing but tiny people, on a tiny planet, in the middle of an unimaginable expanse of what we do not know. It would take over thirteen billion lightyears to travel to our cosmic horizon. That is over 7.64204976 × 10^22 miles (That is over 76 sextillion miles – in American terms). An inconceivable distance; it is nothing but a number to me, and probably most people alive.

But with this, I am not trying to say that your life is worthless and what you do is pointless and you may as well just give up now. No, far from this, in fact. Take from this what you please, but what I am trying to say is to take every opportunity, do everything. Have no regrets.

Okay, that was pretty clichéd, but, no matter what anyone says, it’s good logic; why bother what anyone thinks of you, when humanity is only a small race, in a minuscule “corner” of the universe.

Right, so any aliens out there probably aren’t going to be judging you, and what is out there doesn’t matter to how you live your life. But, when you lay there thinking about it, you do realise how small you really are, and how pointless the whole concept of life really is.

So, why not make it as good as possible?

This was mainly a way in which I could remember what I am thinking. And a prompt, I guess. And also procrastination.

I also have another couple of bits of writing I could finish. But I should probably start my revision first.

“If I say I am going to vote BNP, I will look cool.”

Or at least, that seems to be the general consensus of the people I associate with. I just hope they see sense in three years time when they have the vote.

Apparently, the BNP isn’t racist, all successful countries have right-wing governments (so therefore the United Kingdom is not successful), China does not count as a successful left-wing party, and left-wing parties always slide into dictatorships. Yes, that’s right, Gordon Brown is a dictator. You heard it here first!

It was repeatedly thumped into my skull this lunchtime that the BNP is the best political part in the country, left-wing parties don’t know what they are doing, the Green Party’s policies consist of windmills and tree-hugging and I need reasons as to why I believe left-wing politics is the best option, yet I do not need to be presented with proof that the BNP is no longer racist. It kind of reminds me of Griffin on Question Time…

Someone also stated that we should not have a Monarchy. They then said we should rebuild the British Empire. I somehow don’t think the Empire would be as successful without a Monarchy, myself. Wouldn’t it just end up being a big dictatorship, just like I was told the EU is?

The EU is, of course, not a dictatorship. I was told that no one gets to vote on the policies. If they don’t, what the hell are MEPs getting paid to do? Sit there and watch as “illegal immigrants” legally come to Britain and do the jobs British people do not want to do, at a rate and wage British people would be disgusted at?

I then made the point that citizens in the EU can freely move between countries. The reply was something along the lines of, “Why don’t we go and live in their countries? Oh wait, they’re shit.” Well, if they are shit, are you surprised that they are immigrating here?

The subject then moved on to Muslims, and how they are forcing their culture upon us. Are they? Really? I haven’t heard of any Muslims campaigning for a new Mosque in their street, or for schools to have compulsory prayer sessions or all pork products to be banned from supermarkets.

Basically, all teenagers are Fascist and believe Muslims and Poles are oppressing our nation. And that I should “fuck off to France” because “I would fit in” What?

I am not trying to make it sound like my views are superior, and that I know far more about politics than anyone else my age; I don’t. It just frustrated me the number of people who “support” a racist, oppressive party.