An Excerpt

I'm sort of slowly writing this book called living memory. I have a lot of rogue thoughts that need to escape somewhere. The more prepared, polished and "colloquialised" ones go on here most of the time, but I keep other parts, building them up part by part, sentence by sentence, until they are long enough to read as tiny novels. Novelettes. They're like little windows into my mind. I love the idea that you can all see that, and see how my mind works, even if only for a few moments.
I must admit it is weird to write into an empty space, my general thoughts and the goings-on of my life, and then every-so-often to have someone come up to me and say "Hey, that last post was really good! Nice one!". It's the sort of thing that promotes a fuzzy feeling. But not the kind when you accidentally touch something mouldy; the kind when you're genuinely taken by surprise and it pleases you that someone out there takes the time to read.
So, here's a little excerpt of a chapter I started a while ago. In fact, you can have all of it, it's not that long.

Structuring
I think that my life must have some base, some form of backbone, or it is just as I would be without one- useless, unable to move, unstructured. I enjoy having somebody there to tell me over and over again that I keep getting it wrong and I must try harder. It’s a thoroughly enjoyable experience for me.
I’d like to think that my friends feel the same way but alas this is not always the case, and it has been the sole subject of many a heated discussion over the lunch table, or occurring on the long walk home. If I turn left when we leave school it takes me ten minutes to get home but if I choose (as I so often do) to turn right and accompany my friends their ways home, then I take sometimes two hours. It is something to be expected as their way is much longer ad more laborious by far- hills, large busy roads with little choice but to run across when you dare.
It’s all about spirit and courage; sometimes on a cold day you could be waiting at the side of the road for five or ten minutes before someone lets you across… Or before there is a sizeable gap through which you can transport yourself. Getting safely to the other side is my main worry once I have stepped off that curb.
I find it a frightening prospect when we work very hard for only a short time and then we have a holiday. I feel undeserving- adults work harder but their holidays are strikingly shorter than ours. But now, now is bliss for me.
I love my A-Levels. They are very hard work but they force you to think and comprehend in new dimensions and accelerate your learning until you fabricate an entirely new plane of thought. Today, as with many days in the future and many in the past, I’ve worked a proper work-shift- nine to five. Two hours of Law, Three hours of German, followed by top-ups for both subjects at the local library. I like working hard. I seem to be one of the few people who does, but it is useful.
So today I got up at twenty to seven, just like every other day in the last two weeks. Including weekends, that is- as my body-clock has now managed to set itself for around that time. Useful, I must say. Because I’m waking up naturally I’m not feeling as if I’ve been shaken awake from the deepest recesses of unconsciousness- which is evidently what used to happen because I used to remain groggy for a good while after waking. That proverbial poke-with-a-stick is no longer something I have to suffer, and it is a lovely feeling. I do quite enjoy it. I’m becoming less reliant on technology as I get older, even though the market is expanding.
It is this sort of gentle coercion, which amounts to my being able to go on working day in, day out for months on end. I am doing things I am interested in. I make sure I take little breaks to do what I want. I am truly rather happy bumbling along on my own, like a lone wolf. I get on very well on my own.
That’s not to say I don’t have friends, of course I have a few connections. But, I am not very old. I am sixteen. Too many connections can prove dangerous; influential; off-putting in terms of work. I don’t like the idea that someone else could (even accidentally) be influencing me or dragging me away from work. I will do that myself!
My family thinks I’m mad, they really do. I tell them (as a non-spiteful but still good comeback) that it’s genetic. The structures of our genes have to be the same somewhere.

I love it though, I really do. I love my life and the way I have no idea what the heck will happen next; it makes me try harder to bias the odds in my favour- even a little. As Tesco would so brightly put it- “Every little helps”.



          So there you have it.
Feedback when you next see me/visit my Facebook page, please.


Happy reading, folks!