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JayMerill

142

are perfect. It’s a con. I

just want to be able to see

the truth and accept the

truth. I don’t want music

intruding and making

me believe other things;

perfect things. I want to

live with the basic scrapes

and harsh little day to day

noises you hear going on

in the world around you.

Only then can I feel free

enough to be myself. Oh,

and silence sometimes. l

can live with that. Silence

time equals thinking time.

Whereas lots of people

I know have their heads

permanentlyinamusichaze

and have forgotten how to

think for themselves. Ok, I

don’t mind admitting I’m

a flawed character. And

if you read these pages

you’ll see exactly what

I’m talking about. But, the

thing is, I can live with that.

I don’t demand perfection

of myself.

Anyway, the truth is I’d

started feeling even more

negative about being at

the house. There’s nothing

worse in life than being

stuck somewhere and

realising there’s no way of

it. And that’s the way I had

come to feel about the

house share. It seemed

like a trap. Though I knew

no-one was really stopping

me from moving out. The

housemates,

the friends

,

whatever you want to call

them, they’d most likely be

totally up-there happy if I

were to do the off. In a way

I did wonder sometimes if

it was the thought of their

applause that made me sit

tight for so long. I mean,

I didn’t want to play into

their hands and give them

all that satisfaction. The

only trouble is I’ve come

to see that fighting against

them was a way of being

controlled too. You do this