The Problematic Sophomore Blog Post

At the time of starting to dictate the first few words of this post it is 5.47am, and I am faced with the question that I've become accustomed to pondering at this inhuman hour - "why the hell am I still awake?". The key difference tonight, of course, is that I'm attempting to inject some productivity into this supposed period of rest.

Since posting my first blog post back in September, and having received a lot more positive and wonderful feedback than I could've possibly hoped for (thankyou so much, by the way - I write these posts for myself, not anyone else, but it's genuinely humbling to know that they've been able to help or resonate with people thus far), I've been trying, and failing, to write a sequel. Unfortunately, the creation of spontaneous written media is laborious at best and oftentimes impossible when the artist is faced with lack of direction. I would love to be able to claim that my blog has remained without new content purely due to the lack of significant events occurring within my life that could warrant a written account - alas, quite the opposite is true. In spite of this, multiple attempts to come up with content that is at least remotely engaging, amusing (or just not downright shit) have resulted in me becoming well versed in the layout of my keyboard, the number of books on my shelf or the completion of any other tedious task in order to avoid the task at hand. An analogy I often use is one stolen from The Simpsons - so many thoughts, feeling and emotions are trying to squeeze through the door that is my mind at once, that none of them can actually fit through the threshold.

The Simpsons explaining my mental health far better than I ever could.

At a hunch, 2017 will be a crucial time for this blog. I would like to hope that my audience will continue to grow, and I am certain that the theme of the content will take a dramatic shift. With 24 days to go until the new year (bloody hell, 50% of me can't believe it and 50% can't wait), my calendar is already informing me that it's going to be an action packed 12 months. During that time I'll be travelling to India, Japan, Iceland and the USA - Wales also gets an honourable mention; and I fully intend to document my adventure on this blog. Throw in a trip to Leeds Festival, a fresh chance at education and at least 5 more concerts and it almost sounds like a good time, right?

If I were to take just one lesson away from the past year (a tall order considering the sheer amount of change, unforgettable moments and monumental cock-ups that have been contained within it), it would quite simply be to not set the bar too high. Although that would sound rather pessimistic, I believe that trying to fix every aspect of my life at once is where I went wrong in 2016, and why I've come to the end of it feeling like I got a rather shit deal, in spite of the indisputably* amazing things that have happened (I got to introduce my favourite band onstage to 80,000 people at Wembley Stadium for god's sake). Next year, my plan is to take each day as it comes, truly live within the moment, embrace the fact that my flaws come to make me who I am and - most importantly - fulfill my inane desire to fill every dull moment of my life with cringe-worthy clichés. 

It's now 6.54am (yes, believe it or not it has taken me 67 whole minutes to spill this small amount of spiel onto the virtual page, including a brief proofread) and I now feel distinctly more fatigued, equally as cynical and ever so slightly more optimistic about what the next year of my life has in store. Let's hope I'm proved right, eh?

*I would like my dear readers to know just how long I spent debating with myself as to whether indisputably or undisputably was the correct term to use - 13 minutes is the answer... and I'm still probably wrong.

The Spice of Life

Olympic Standard Procrastination

261 is an odd composite number, composed of two prime numbers multiplied together. Bringing the number into the realm of tangible concepts, it is equivalent to 2 minutes and 41 seconds. Incidentally, it also happens to be the number of days I've had to write this blog post, having declared that one of my many resolutions for the new year would be to make better use of my social media presence. A very modern New Year's goal, admittedly. Although, paradoxically, most of the content detailed within this post comes from experiences that I've had within the last 9 months - perhaps it's better that I held off until this late stage in the year?

Unfortunately, as always seems to be the case when it comes to actually putting this one of many ways of bettering myself into practice; commitments happened, anxiety happened... life happened. In spite of this, as my family and friends start to [re-]discover the trials and tribulations of articulating your feelings on the internet, I find myself once again sucked into the world of online diary entries and viewer statistics.

Bone Apple Tea

Many people would agree that being a human being is tough. It's common knowledge that life has it's own fine-tuned, perfectly honed set of skills, designed for throwing you challenges when you feel as though you could really do without them at that particular moment in time. However, it's arguable that smooth sailing from conception to decomposition would be a mere silhouette of an existence, having not been flavoured by the terrible, marvellous and downright crazy flavours of life. While a quote of a similar vein would do well on a "Positive Minds" Twitter page (something I won't deny seeking out on my darkest days), sufferers of anxiety will be well versed with most of these flavours, positive or not, being served to you while doused with a rather large helping of "oh my god what-the-FUCK-is-happening" flavoured dressing.

Tinnitus is an underlying health condition that causes sporadic or permanent ringing in the ears. Sufferers of anxiety and those of tinnitus will find that they have more in common than they initially realised, given that, to the unfortunate majority, a quiet moment is never truly quiet. Like a gently simmering pan who's careless handler has just accidentally leant on the dial to turn the hob up by about 5 gas marks, thoughts and worries begin to cascade into the consciousness' line of sight, resulting in the all too familiar knotted stomach, sweaty palms and gentle queries from concerned family members about the worried expression you didn't even realise you were making.

The Pursuit of Gay Abandonment

Having finally worked up the courage to come out to my parents as bisexual a few days prior, and feeling the most open and accepting of myself that I'd ever felt up until that point, December 31st was a rather exceptional day. I convinced myself that 2016 really was going to be my year (yep, I genuinely am that cliché sometimes). It took me just shy of a week from that point to realise that I was sorely mistaken. Given that myself and this year have now gone through a full gestation period together, birthing the unsure and anxious person that I am now, in comparison to who I was 9 months ago, it's clear to say that I won't be sorry to see the back of this chapter of my life. While some of the best days of my existence have occurred since the last time I shouted "Happy New Year!", mainly revolving around my solo adventure of a lifetime to London to see my favourite band live at Wembley Stadium (3 times!), that spark in a sea of gray (bonus points for identifying the reference) was quickly doused by family revelations, severed friendships and educational pressures; all having vastly increased my anticipation of the next time I'm able to utter the phrase without being on the receiving end of strange looks from passers by.

For fear of coming across as a 'glass-half-empty' pessimist, I will add that things are most definitely on the incline in Sam's world. The final trimester of this year promises to be full of befriending new people, going to a copious amount of gigs (my favourite places on Earth) and is even being rounded off by a 2 week trip to India. Nevertheless, I will stay true to my character traits and continue to toe the line of cautious optimism. While I'm not for one second expecting (or indeed hoping for) an easy ride; to draw inspiration from the aforementioned Twitter page - a smooth sea never made for a skilful sailor.


— Footnote: this poem is read out during an interval at Coldplay's A Head Full of Dreams concerts. I feel like it does a good job of articulating the general message of this blog post: goo.gl/Q4vqlZ