Wow (A Year Already)

I can’t believe it’s been a year since last I came on here and wrote a blog, it’s crazy!

What’s even weirder is that I’m the same guy I was back then, yeah my situation has changed slightly, I’m in my third year out of four at Wolverhampton Uni doing the same Interpreting BSL/English course and I’m living in a student house this year, but I still think the same, uni life hasn’t really changed me that much… Maybe it has and I just haven’t noticed ’cause it’s been gradual, I dunno.
So, yeah, what’s new? Twelve months of stuff has happened since I last blogged here and I can’t for the life of me think of even one moment that really stood out for me to tell about. Well, I turned 21 on March 7th (which kinda feels lightyears ago now) which wasn’t much of a big deal, spent time with my family and there was a little gathering when I returned to uni.

I guess I’ve been living life day by day and forgetting each subsequent one that passes me by. I can’t say I’m living for the future but I’m not really living in the past either, which would leave living in the present as my only option, but I’m not really living, just existing in this state until something new comes along. I’m kinda waiting for the day when I wake from this stupor to be the person I wanna be and do the things I wanna do… I wonder if that day will ever come or if I’ll just sleepwalk through my entire life not really having a direction, meandering through my days until at some late stage I realise what a mess I’ve made of things. Wow, uber pessimistic, even for me. I guess I’m tired or something. Maybe that’s something that has changed about me, my apathy seems to have become all encompasing, there really isn’t an aspect of life I can say I thrive on, not even music any more, maybe I’m just not listening to the right stuff at the moment. It’s not that I don’t care, if I didn’t care then I wouldn’t get out of bed every day, do my essays or e-mail home or my friends. It’s just that there’s no passion, no desire. I have, and always will, put some of the blame on this god-forsaken city. Wolverhampton is a f*cking Hell-hole and I’ll be happy when I can go leave here and never come back again, but I’m afraid to say that it cannot take all the blame for my lack of enthusiasm.

I would like to know what it is that makes me tick, I don’t know my passions or desires (which, on it’s own, is reason to get some therapy maybe) and I don’t know how to kick-start my enthusiasm, so if any budding psych’ students are reading this (god knows why you would) then let me know, I don’t mind being a guinea-pig; I’d love to be psycho-analysed.

Well I think that concludes my strange saunter through my often broken train of thought.

C *keep the peace or take a foregone conclusion and rearrange the meaning of what you think you’ll find*