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