Yet second attempt. I cant spell definitely. Ive always thought i needed to start one of these. Sometimes my mind finds it hard to keep up with my rantings and ravings,writings,and cravings. Here ill probably put alot of stuff ive been writing lately,but generally,ill be using this to vent,it might save some of my friends the hassle. I thought id throw an essay i wrote a while ago up here,seeing as its the first piece i posted publicly. Rip it to shreds if you wish ha.
My heart ache with the angst of teenage life. “Woe is me, I feel like my life is falling apart around me. I lost my mobile”. This catcall echoes around the corridors I walk on a daily basis. Tangled passions and emotions rage in the teenage hearts of my peers. Their tempestuous feelings blinding their judgment and thought. As for idealism? The only ideals my generation seem to have is their ideal date, guy or girl. Id love to think that amongst my year group, we had poet lauriets, and amazing authors brewing, but I wont hold my breath.
Teenage passions these days include going out, and the stresses of “relationships”. Take the first. Im 17,and so are most of my friends. My name is James Carpenter, and I’m like that all day, everyday. Yet, at the weekend, my friends take on many different persona’s. They are John Mc Sweeney, Gemma Mulroy, Andrew Coghlan, Shane O Shea. They are all 18. They study in DKIT, or DIT, or Trinity College Dublin. Preparation for a night out begins hours in advance. Hair cuts for my mates, tan’s for the girls. At the door of the nightclub, last minute adjustments are made. Skirts pulled up, tops pulled down. Shirts are tucked in, belts are shone. All of this, just for a chance to be somewhere you’re not supposed to be . Once inside, my friends are the first on the dance floor. First at the bar. First to throw their money away. They saunter on up to the bar, with an air of cockiness and defiance, and order an alco pop. Mature. The group knock 4 or 5 back, and we begin to see some “passion”. A girl grabs her best friend’s boyfriend, and they clinch for a second. Enter World War 3. It now takes 3 twenty stone bouncers to wrench apart the teenage glued on fingernails clawing at each other’s newly tanned skin. Both parties declare that they are “OHMYGOD” never talking to each other again. Next morning, all parties involved wake up with sore heads, bruised ego’s and arms, and guilty consciences. The two who were “OHMYGOD” never talking to each other again are drinking skinny latte’s with each other, discussing the nights events. The boy involved is counting his blessings and bragging about how two best friend’s were fighting over him.
From this, “Relationship” problems arise, if that is, you can call anything two teenagers have these days a relationship. Ill admit, I’m a romantic, an idealist. I dive headfirst into things and come out soaking wet, just like so many of my friends. If something doesn’t work, I forget it and move one. I do not, however, sit in my bedroom with a tub of ice cream, a dvd and a warm duvet. I don’t throw belongings at walls. I don’t burn pictures. I don’t leave voicemails to the other person involved to obscene to write here. Our passionate youth is a haze of love and lust, and the two words are confused a lot these days. The word love is so ridiculously overused these days. The word you’re looking for is like! I like hurling. I like movies. I like ice cream. I like a girl. I don’t love any of those things. I love my friends. I love my family. I love music. Those things, I could not live without. Surely if we loved everything we believe we like, our generation would put every suicidal poet, minstrel, bard, author, artist and lyricist out of business! Our children’s children will be studying “He broke my heart by text” on their Leaving Cert course in 70 years time. Their brains will be wracked at the metaphors and similes used by the new Yeats’ and Wordsworths.
We live in a world, and country, struggling to find the brake pedal ( it’s the one in the middle. Sorry, theory test in a week). Instead of slowing down gradually, we are hurtling into a cul de sac at breakneck speed, and when we collide, a lot of people will be hurt. Our economy and market boom will surely bust soon, and im not sure if the Celtic Cubs can steer us through that. The last generation was born with leaders, people had to lead through the chaos. The adversity they faced meant people had to take charge. In my generation, our country does not face that adversity. We are loved, known as a thriving country, full of welcoming, “craic” loving people. But to be honest, where’s the character? Adversity builds character. Character builds leader’s. Leader’s build a country.
So what my peer’s passions set out, what do I feel passion for? The main passions in my life are friend’s, family and music. I love my friends, and would do anything for them. They are the most eclectic diverse group of people I’ve ever met. We all share another of my passions, and that is music. We play, write, watch and listen to music together. Barntown to Burzum, Neutral Milk Hotel to The Residents, Justice to Lark, we all have our preferences. It was once wrote that, “Our friends, they’re not our friend’s, they’re what we live for”, and I think he summed it up beautifully. Its nice to see that, in our transition from the impoverished to the affluent, there is one thing we haven’t lost. Comradery. Lately ive become embroiled in a group of people and musicians, entitled D.B.H. , or Dublin Bay Hardcore. This group of people are some of the nicest i hardly know. The music is about friendship. The scene is about friendship,and it wouldn't exist without it. The comradery i feel at those shows is unbelievable. People i've never met in my life making me feel so welcome,its amazing. I may not be a part of it,but its a huge part of me. Its changed my life,and hopefully,i guess,if it changes just one more mixed up guys head, it'll all have been worth it right? I’ve made the best friend’s imaginable in this silly little town. A group of people banded together by crotchet’s. quavers, pinch harmonics and blast beats to create a beautiful melody. Yes I have poked fun at the fickleness and immaturity of youth, but at the end of the day, if the young don’t believe in each other, who will? Our elders are waiting to see us fail. Lets go out with a fight, and prove them wrong. “Side by Side as equals proud. Raising fists, and singing loud”.