Yewazetya, because loneliness is too emo. - -updated

I realise that for the past few posts my bitching to wit ratio has gone to hell. Less bitching, more wit. Huzzah!

Although you'll have to forgive the odd bit of rambling, my brain viens de being fucked (mentally) by Kara no Kyoukai 5 a movie that I will have to watch again in order to comprehend to the point that I am satisfied. At the moment all that comes to mind is gender identity disorder and the truism that there was no time at the origin of all things. 

                                              I quote "Mystic Eyes of Death Perception"

My body isn't doing much better than my brain. My first boxing lesson on Thursday courtesy of Mickey's cockney variant left me in such pain that I had to get a taxi home the next day. They don't call it delayed onset muscle soreness for nothing. There was also a boxing session on Friday that I opted out of because I was being coerced by my own muscles, by whom I was told "you do that again and we'll make you regret it" in the personified tone of seasoned mafiosi. 

On Wednesday I debated in front of all 420 law freshers, I envied their carefree expressions but was saddened by the fact that they were sitting there with no idea of what law entails and no real understanding of what this means for the next few years of their lives. I'm sure there were many among them who had exchanged dreams for career prospects..But hey I put on a great show for the budding bastards. Too much alcohol in their systems for them to care about anything at this stage. 

I am up at 2am flattening the weekend with a rolling pin. Did I mention that after 4 months I now eat toothpicks and crave hot chocolate instead of cigarettes?  Still some French work to do before I sleep but if I start that now the dough will break. 

So there's boxing tomorrow too, It has been a few days and although I am for the most part free of muscle soreness some remains, I blame cockney Mickey and his clapping push-ups  still I think I can somehow negotiate with my motor neurons to go to another session besides eventually this should stop happening after I get used to 2 hrs of madness 3 times a week. 

There is a very good friend of mine back home whom I feel has drifted somewhat so much so that we are unable to discuss much of anything any longer. I went out to dinner with a couple of "friends"earlier this week too it's not that I don't socialise I do but I feel incredibly disconnected when I do especially when the same people post photos of another dinner to which you weren't invited and you feel cheesed off. I am beginning to suspect that I have some sort of Schizoid personality disorder (self diagnosis for the win) still psychiatrists are evil and the DSM manual is a fraud (but amusing to self-diagnose with). 

I feel like I've eaten too much today, no I have I've clearly eaten too much. Didn't go to the cricket screening, knew we were going to lose/be bribed to lose. Instead I went to McDonald's and used vouchers like a pensioner. I then came back and ate chicken tikka from the fridge. I've been binging on Hajime no Ippo recently. I now know more about boxing techniques in 2 dimensions than I did 30 episodes ago. 

Too bloated to continue this post. Farewell Weekend. Time for some green tea.

UPDATE - Boxing part 2 went well just up until I got home and I felt .. I felt that dreaded tingling in my elbow which got progressively worse. I have now ordered another brace and booked an appointment with the GP I swear it had HEALED .. I had full motion I had my strength back ...and IT WAS FINE after the first lesson (I had rested it for 10 weeks). WHY! WHY MUST THIS HAPPEN TO ME. I need to get an MRI done or something for £"**('s sake what's the point in being 6"4 if a little tendon injury has me writhing about like this all the time

Hang on a second!

I have (at least according to the old me, that's the me that existed at some point before this me came into being) lost the plot entirely. What began with 2 years spent chasing an LLB,  nicotine cessation and the strange desire to hit other people for the hell of it has somehow turned into a new perspective on life. 

Fate and I have a love/hate relationship, much like the relationship I share with the city of Peshawar. At first I was convinced that it didn't exist and that believing in it would make me no better than the two-bit hypocrites who blame all their misfortune on this mysterious force. (I suppose to continue the analogy I spent my childhood in blissful ignorance of Peshawar, it was just a place I spent my Christmas holidays in). For want of a better word my analysis of fate soon moved into phase 2 after certain cataclysmic events shook my resolve, throwing me off my high horse and turning me into a self hating believer in the "just world" ideology in many ways I have yet to free myself of this phase. I had no choice but to acknowledge fate but at the same time I recovered knowing that as long as (cheesy cheesy Naruto reference) the will of fire continued to burn within me I could according to the sage and satirist Machiavelli ride her like a young maiden. 

Again in contrast I moved to Peshawar,  began adapting and eventually took the reins of my life once again. Whether I pointed those reins in the right direction is now something I question every day. Did I ever really want to become a Lawyer and if I did, did I want to become one for the right reasons? (if such reasons exist at all). Surely returning to the heart of the empire on which the sun never sets was the correct choice but was Law school such a great idea?

I'm 21 I won't ever be 21 again and with the speed things are moving at the moment I doubt my 20s will last for more than a few instants on the large scale of things. Maybe all that Bushido garbage had some truth to it? If this is my life then I should do what makes me happy. Whether that's sitting in the mountains writing books or ..ah right here it is here's the bombshell "Joining the military". This may not be such a scandalous decision for some but for me it is one that has taken great deliberation. For starters I am from a long line of glorified killers who in return for honour and glory have served their respective war-machines with no qualms whatsoever. Maybe I once had such moral issues but to continue to pretend that they matter would be nonsensical. I would love nothing more than to salute and be saluted, to live a life of adventure, to do things that will make youth seem more worthwhile. 

Perhaps this does little to elucidate things, but I have an intense fear of turning out like my father and for a long time my decisions have simply been based around living as different a life as possible. In fact I have so many issues with the way I've started to think that listing any more of them would be boring so let's move on.

I know, clearly this is all Conrad's fault. He has of late dethroned Murakami as my favourite author. Reading Conrad is more like listening to myself than digesting foreign information. His candid view of the world clearly came from being at sea, being removed from society, removed from life and death mulling over wave patterns and seagull cries. Unless I leave somehow, unless I go out to sea literally or figuratively I feel I will never have a grasp of who I really am. My LLB doesn't tie me down it doesn't say that I cannot enlist it doesn't say that I can't join the merchant navy it doesn't say that I have to do anything in particular. I am blessed not to have to work for a living so to speak, so what if I can earn more pouring coffee for some smug senior partner at an elitist firm? I know that wherever I end up starting my career, in whatever field in whichever place I will always start at the bottom of the chain I will be a servant to somebody else's servant (and so on). Servility is inescapable for now, only it has opened my eyes to the limitless potential that I myself possess and the needless sorrow to which my own narrow mindedness has led me. 

Ah well it's about time I graced Angleterre with my presence once more. My final year is about to being this is the last entry I'll be writing from Pakistan for another year. Farewell Dogs, Farewell Family! This has been quite an illuminating stint at home....I swear I met a friend in Islamabad (recently divorced) and the first thing I asked him was whether he'd become a father yet (at which point his expression told me I'd said something terribly wrong) Lord forgive me!