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Point one, in this Grand Romantic Scheme of an update:


Ahem. Sorry about that. You have a great oppertunity to be the first person to sign the Great And Wonderful New Aquarionic Guestbooktm.


Part Two, A air on a theme of Life

Last time I did this, I got several querys/messages/emails/phonecalls from people worrying. Nothing has changed, Be Warned

I live in Sunderland. In the great scheme of things, this ranks on a 7/10 of Bad Things. One of my major themes is that I don’t like it here, but this isn’t strictly true.
I quite like Sunderland
There, I’ve said it. Admitted it. What I hate is what it stands for, where it is, why I’m here.I’ll start with Where It Is, because I’m random.

Where It Is

Far Away.

Geographically speaking, it’s in the far north of england (Very far north, travel west for a bit and you hit Scotland), Metaphorically speaking, it’s a small island in the middle of the atlantic.

I live in Cyberspace, far more than I live in Sunderland. Most of my friends are online, ranging between Scotland and Swansea, Plymoth to Peterlee, and from Sweden to San Deigo. And from London, all of these places are Reasonably Easy to get to. From here they involve going first to Newcastle, then to another Major Station, and then smaller and smaller local stations until I get there. London cuts out the Major Station. Once at london, I can take a train/plane/bus/tube whereever I need to be. London is the beating heart of the Public Transport system, Sunderland it’s armpit.

What it stands for is even simpler: I am here, in this town, because I fucked up, in the most right and total way, my Advanced Level Examinations. A-Levels, for those who dwell in the land of acronyms. And every day, every time I walk out of my front door, turn left, pass the bus station, the paperseller, the shops, the bridge and the quayside, I am reminded that I’m only here because I fucked up.

On the plus side, I didn’t completely screw up. I could still be in the septic dump of my home town, rotting quietly away the way my brother is. I got out. I left. I took the train *away* and didn’t come back to live. And will not.

I am determined not to fall back there.

And I won’t

Providing I don’t fuck up again

Aquarion applies for the most gratuitous use of the word “fuck” in a serious diary entry

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