Tuesday, February 27, 2007

The Trouble With Me...

The Trouble With Me...

I will (usually) have to win. Even with you.

I will talk for hours about Shakespeare and Woolf and Byron and Hare and Gatsby and The Waste Land and Birthday Letters and Beowulf and Stoppard and Marber and the Brontes and - well, I could go on. You've probably heard me. And just because I don't like Dickens doesn't mean that I won't go on about him too.

I will write about you. Not just on here - though I will - but you will pop up elsewhere, amongst the pages I have yet to write, the characters I have yet to breathe life into. I can't help it, you will colour my perception and I will try and capture you, in a sentence, in a phrase, in some oft seen movement that you believe is yours alone.

I will get righteously indignant about lots of things and you will have to listen. This can cross the entire spectrum, starting somewhere around Darfur and ending up with people who consider We Will Rock You to be theatre. You may think I can't differentiate between the two. I can. Just not when I'm talking with my hands.

I will get excited about the latest issue of Vogue and you will not understand. Sometimes I don't understand myself.

I will be arrogant. Not always, and not on a regular basis, but it will happen. You will notice.

I will get drunk, I will fall over, you will have to hold my hair back whilst I'm sick. I'll say it now - I'm sorry.

I will be a Drama Queen. There is no excuse for it; I know I'm doing it, you know I'm doing it but that doesn't mean either of us can stop it. It won't last (too) long. Hopefully.

I will not always answer my phone. My excuse is that I come from a long line of non-phone answerers (some would call us deaf). The vibrate function on my mobile has solved at least some of this problem but it does rely on my being in bodily contact with it. Which isn't, in society at large, always appropriate.

I will cry. You will have to understand that this doesn't necessarily mean I'm upset. I may well be happy. Or just watching Neighbours.

I will play The Mighty Snow Patrol on repeat. I will jump up and down to 'Mr Brightside'. I will cry to 'Fields of Gold' (see above). I will be a teenager again to 'Don't Look Back In Anger'. I will sing the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack with the intonations of the 2004/5 Bill Kenwright production because that is the only way to sing it. I will never quite get over Griffin's voice. And I will do all this and claim that in 'Nightswimming' you have something which ranks with the greatest poetry ever written. And whilst this may not be your music - which may be older, or cooler, or cleverer - it is mine and I will love it and you will have to understand this.

I will get scared and you will not realise until you read about it on here or much later still in some half fictionalised account. This is nothing to do with you, it is me.

I will make you read The Great Gatsby.

I will teach you about pashminas and Mulberry bags and standing with your eyes closed in the middle of a crowd and feeling your very existence in every cell in your body.

I will see the baby Einstein CDs in shops and I will pick them up and look at them and make noises about when I have a baby. You will be scared. Don't be.

I will always see the world refracted through the writers I have loved. I wouldn't change this even if I could.

I will be a Snob. Though I chide myself for it, there's something about the Dreaming Spires that does that to you.

I will always get excited about the Boat Race. Even though I can't row.

I will want to alphabetise your books.

I will be not only the sum of my accomplishments but of everything in my head. And that is how I will see you too.


billygean.co.uk said...

ooooh beautiful. am tempted to do one for me.

agree about nightswimming.

i reckon this means she's pulled history boy and is now warning him even tho he can't read this. What do you think?!

cat said...

"At Your Most Beautiful" too, maybe not quite so "poetic" in linguistic terms, but it touches me.

you make being your friend sound like an exhausting responsibility, hope I'm managing ok so far!