Letters to live by.

I'm still testing the waters.

Starting Over.

Dear Kid,

Fuck. So yesterday, 14th August 2014, I received my final A Level grades and guess what?! I didn’t get into Sussex. I didn’t get into anywhere remotely worth getting into. Holy Shit. Those were the first words out of my mouth when I opened my shitty white paper envelope. Holy Shit. 

'Holy shit' was a complete understatement. You see, I'd retaken my A Levels since it didn't quite work out the first time (see DUDE grades for reference). And after three years of A Levels I achieved CCD. Holy Shit. To say that I feel cheated is a complete understatement also. I honest to God thought that I would be one or two grades off of my predicted grades (AAB) but motherfucking hell two grades off for each subject? I'm so angry and I'm so tired.

Everyone has been nothing but supportive apart from the ‘well, at least you passed’ and the ‘could have been worse’. Those are neither consoling nor fucking helpful. Good fucking God.Motherfucking Fuck. 

I don’t know how to feel knowing that I have wasted two years of my life doing this for two C’s and a D. Every single time I see it or think about it I feel like someone is standing on my chest and I am screaming but no words are coming out and my brain is telling my body to move, but nothing. Not a single damn thing. 

I spent about four hours yesterday on the phone with let’s just say over twenty different universities practically kissing their feet and begging them to take me, all for nothing. It was a waste of time.

Those two years I spent studying was supposed to be worth it. I kept telling myself those nights and days studying on only five hours of sleep would be worth it because soon I’d be on the Brighton pier after my lectures has finished for the day. I don’t think I have ever wanted anything more in my entire life. It fucking hurts. I don’t think I have ever wanted anything before in my entire life.

I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what to do. 

George. 

Stuff.

Dear kid,

Tomorrow is my birthday so to mark such an auspicious and bullshit occasion I am going to list all the stuff I’ve done since I turned eighteen!

• Went to Rome by myself
• Finished my A Levels
• Held a baby alligator
• Went horseback riding
• Went in a submarine
• Got my first bullshit job
• Learned to drive
• Travelled to France, Spain, Italy, America, Mexico, Belize, Cozumel
• Went alone to my Dad’s wedding in Portsmouth
• Travelled by public transport to Bristol
• Gotten a new idea for a book series (maybe)
• I’ve been writing more
• Had my first glass of champagne (it was yucky)

• Watched all the Harry Potter movies in 24 hours

I’m goddamn sure there’s more that I have yet to remember.

George.

Adventure.

Dear kid,

My last A level exam is tomorrow and at ten thirty tomorrow I will be free! I feel free already just a little but also I feel trapped. I don’t know if I got the grades to get to Sussex but I need to believe that I have. I need to believe that everything will be okay.

I need to forget about everything for at least a few weeks. I need adventure. I’ve been waiting nineteen years for adventure. I need to feel alive.

Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.

George.

Bodies.

Dear kid,

Based on the title it could be an episode of Law and Order or a witnesses account of a serial killer’s house. But it’s not. As shy as I am, I am ridiculously self-confident. This also meant that I always thought ‘I’d rather be fat and happy than hungry and miserable’. My fifteen year old self thought that these two things were linked. By this I mean that I could eat whatever I wanted and I would be happy. But four years on, I am the heaviest I have ever been. My BMI is 23.1 and you may think that that is good, but on my short frame I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin.

I need to lose weight. I need to be comfortable in my own skin.

George.

Second chances.

Dear kid,

As I am writing this I am eighteen years old. As I am writing this I am inexperienced. This world is infinite and incredible and I know nothing about it. I keep coming back to this post and trying to write and rewrite and I feel like it’s important to know that life isn’t like that. Life isn’t that simple. Writing is cathartic in that you are given a million second chances to change absolutely everything about a character’s beginning, middle and end in just a sentence or the complete rewriting of a chapter. 

This is different from the post I had intended to write and I guess that’s pretty clear from the complete 180 after the third sentence. I had meant to write about all the things I feel I have missed out on and then go on to complain about how the privileges I have had in life have passed me by and how I have nothing to show for my nineteen years of existence on this earth. But since I saved this to drafts a week ago, my thoughts have completely changed. Present-George considers Past-George to be a complete dick. There is no way in hell that I can expect to be experienced. I have done nothing in order to change that. 

God, life is hard and it’s frustrating but I’m here for a purpose, granted I’m still trying to figure out what that goddamn purpose is, but I’m trying. Fuck, I am trying. 

I think I’m done rewriting this bullshit post now.

George. 

Futures.

Dear kid,

In just over three months I’ll be starting my Law degree at Sussex. The idea of this terrifies me. It’s a little bit about the fear of the unknown, but mostly about the expectations. In a family of Doctors and high expectations it is assumed that after a law degree that I will be a lawyer. But that’s not what I want. I do not want to be lawyer, I know that much. I want to write. 

George.

Struggles.

Dear kid,

One thing that should be regarded highly is the fact that nothing worthwhile comes without hard work. As of right now, I am in the middle of my A2 exams, my final year before university. I’ll tell you one thing, it is goddamn hard to accomplish anything when the odds are stacked against you, and by this I mean when those who you care about do not believe in you. 

But more important than that, you have to believe in you. 

This is short, this will be short and I need to write more goddamn it. 

George.

Mistakes.

Dear kid,

Today I learned an important lesson in obstacles, well technically I didn’t. See, I’m learning to drive and I realise that acquiring a new skill no matter the difficulty requires a sufficient amount of practice, but that didn’t stop me from being angry at myself. I was driving, everything was hunky-dory and I got to traffic lights and I stalled like five times and I was panicking and the lights turned red and it was goddamn awful. The thing is that I knew how to drive the damn car, there was just something in me that shut down and I couldn’t figure out for the life in me what I was doing.

Kid, it wasn’t that I didn’t know how to do it, it was the voice, the tiny fucking insignificant voice in my head that was willing me to mess up. I’ll be the first to admit I screw up pretty much every single thing I do the first time I do it, hell the first few times I do it, but that doesn’t stop me. You see you might not expect it, but I am one of the most stubborn people you will ever meet. I refuse to let anybody tell me that I can’t do something, I refuse to let myself tell me I can’t do something.

This world is unkind and unfair and it’s going to knock you down far more often than you deserve, but as long as you get back up and fight back twice as hard, you’ll do fine kid. I believe in you.

George.

Inspiration.

Dear kid,

I started by telling you about this blog starting off as a spark, this spark was ignited if you will by the blog HONY. I find it to be briliant how inspiration can come from just about anywhere. Of all the things I am inspired to do, first on my list is storytelling. 

I hope wherever I end up in the future I am able to do that. I also promise to stop talking about sparks like a pyromaniac.

George.

New beginnings.

Dear kid, 

This blog started as the tiniest spark, an idea in my head that hasn’t yet remotely formed. It’s difficult for a spark to become a fire, but I’m trying. I may be in need of some lighter fluid or at least some hairspray. This has been a long time coming, but it’s here now and it’s a beginning. 

I feel the need for introductions and perhaps a handshake (maybe due to the British upbringing) but I also feel as though with time there will be no need. For I will reveal in future posts unto you my soul. This is my ‘first pancake’ so it’s a little shabby and unappealing, but kid I promise it’ll be a rollercoaster that only goes up from here on out. 

I will now leave you with my name,

George.