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So after several months which turn into a year, I finally get my laptop back from the repair place. Simple: I have an fault in my hard drive and they have replaced it. Now I have a laptop that is shiny and new, apart from the fact its my old laptop and its just works like a new one.
It's midnight. I'm shattered and I'm laying in bed.
I've come to enjoy laying in bed, I've had 6 weeks of hardly sleeping, and hardly a bed for that matter to not enjoy the delights that my old bed has to offer me. I never thought that a hard mattress, a thin quilt, and covers that don't quite fit in with the room could ever be anymore delightful as it is now.
Where have I been I hear you shout...!?
Simple. I spent 6 weeks working in Edinburgh at the Edinburgh Fringe 2007 in one of the largest Fringe theatres that operates during the month of August. With 15 theatres spread across 5 buildings, which all equals out at a very large hundred plus shows performing over 4 weeks its hard to believe that I even had a chance to stop and think.
I've learnt so much, its true to say. I've seen a building that was once derelict due to a fire be transformed into 5 theatres. It's hard to say that I "saw" these theatres be made... it was more, I, who along with a group of hard working people, helped to build these structures. These stages where artists would perform.
I have sucessfully operated power tools, built the very essence of a theatre, layed dance flooring, hung drapes, drilled too many holes, cut wood, lifted and carried well over a thousand bits of wood, and all for what?
The FRINGE FESTIVAL.
Can you believe that the city of Edinburgh actually doubles over the course of one month. Thats crazy. And I was there in the very heart of it. To be fair I was only on Box Office and Front of House duties, but I dread to think how much money actually crossed my two hands into my cash tin, how many tickets I printed out, how many credit cards I handled and swipped with happiness.
I'm exhausted.
I worked an average day of 12 hours, 7 days a week for 6 weeks... and only 3 days off. Yes. Three. 3. 3. 3. 3. They say its the magic number, but for me it was a small glimpse of being free.
It's fair to say that I lived and breathed the festival. I survived.
I Survived.
When I think about the many other people I know, my frineds, my family... they... they couldn't do it. They wouldn't have the strength, the pull in the theatrical world to get up everyday and to walk down the same street to work, to the pull of the theatres.
I find it amazing that I'm still alive after those 6 weeks of what can be described as... as what?
An experience.
A desire to wear away any sense of sleep I once had?
The feeling of achievement.
Friendship.
Money
Whatever it is, I can hold my head high and proclaim that Jakey the Bobakey survived.
Now sleep.
With love, and regretful apologies of absence
xXx
Looking into the eyes of a stranger. It doesn't matter where it takes place, but it happens time and time again. It's one of those odd quirks in life. You both look, you both look away.
Who gives you permission to stare into my eyes for those few seconds?
Who says that I can't stare into your eyes for those few seconds?
It's as if its an unwritten rule between one and all [apart from children]... You just don't look into a strangers eye, especially in public places. Extreme public places. The street for example, is certainly a place not designed for such exchanges between two complete strangers. Yet we all do it, and then we all pretend we didn't do it. It's a game.
Children do it all the time, infact, I believe children are the winners of this game. There is no care, its merely a look. It's not flirty, its not dirty, and its not anything but a look. And yet, don't well all feel tense and annoyed when a child, whatever the age, stares at us, epecially when you engage in eye contact.
They are watching me.
They are watching me.
They are watching me.
THEY ARE WATCHING ME.
I purpose that I shall stare at each and every person I meet on the street, maybe stare is a strong word... perhaps its better to say, I won't look away when I've caught that beautiful eye of yours.
Sometimes I just really want to stare into someone's eyes, a stranger's eyes. Yet its intrusive. Don't. Look. Into. My. Eyes.
Then of course there is the look into the eyes, the look away, then the return of looking. It's a signal of flirty vibes being presented through open eyes. I caught a guy's eye the other day, he had an interesting face, so I continued to look, but then something odd happened. He continued to look too, and then I smiled. If he noticed this smile I'm not sure. It wasn't for the fact that this guy was attractive, or that I had even thought he was... it was the sheer odd situation of two complete strangers.
A look.
A look away.
A look.
A look away.
A smile.
It's as if we are each stealing glances at each other, but I'm not stealing. I'm taking. I want to rant and rave about the past and community. But this isn't the time and place. Instead I shall say that if you catch me staring, I'm not staring at you for any reason other than taking you in. Taking you in.
It's the look of, you have a story to tell, and I want to guess what it is.
We all have stories, but we never tell them, let me guess, let my mind wander and figure you out. It's excites my imagination and fuels my mind. Passes time too, it must be said.
I'm off to go watch, engange in a split-seconds worth of eye flitterings between myself and ...
You?
With love,
The boy that is and was.
<3
As I walk through the streets, I begin to notice the people that inhabit them. Their features stick out in all shapes, forms and manners that I know not. I'm not one to stereotypicalise. Infact, I hate people who do altogether, and hate is a strong word.
Yet here I am, questioning why as I gaze into the faces of these people that surround me, I... I... see the same person that I saw only the other day. It's not the same person, obviously. My world is too big for seeing the same people on multiple occassions... yet here they are. Their clothes are the same, their hair, by god, their hair is so stereotypical of...
Well? Who? The Stereotypical person, an image. Yes. They fit the image of a middle aged mother, no. Maybe its the image of a teenager who doesn't have a job and hangs on the street. I just don't understand how everyone reminds me of a stereotypical person, this image.
Then, as if matters weren't bad enough already, I notice that I, I... I'm just like them? It's as if our bodies are as one, yet completely seperate. We are the walking image of this or that style. This or that figure. This or that idea. Walking down the street. I'm just like everyone else.
I give myself a certain image. Then that image is not mine. It's made up by the masses of people that inhabit this world. I'm just a follower, maybe I'm not much of a believer, but like a sheep I follow the styles, the figures and the ideas.
Individuality is lost. It's gone. What is left is fragmented walking, talking, minds. For if there is nothing left but my mind. I am me. The voice within my own mind. It's a place of harmony, of peace. Yes, its hell at times, but it wouldn't be mine otherwise.
So there you have it. We all strive to be someone we're obviously not, and then... we still are them, in the end, its all in our minds.
--
It's been a while since I've actually given myself time to actually write or type, however you want to put it. I feel that ... its time to start again.
Watch this space, so to speak.
Alas, welcome back Jakey boy.
<3
I spent the morning deciding how I would start this entry, I figured that I wouldn't use my computer, the keyboard isn't as nice as the laptop. So. I'm using the laptop. I figured that I would try and stray away from the "I'm sorry its been a while" sort of conversation to no one but myself, and instead merely exclaim in suprise: "Oh my! Is it September already?... whatever happened to August on bobakey.net?"
Well August has gone and I regret not recording at least something about what has happened, because dear lord, my life just doesn't stop being a soap opera for a month... hell no, August was certainly full of drama.
I was then going to list everything that I have done recently/news that is important and so forth, but instead I'm just going to go crazy and write one heck of a blog entry bringing everything up to date and to just ramble in my typical way. Urgh. What is wrong with my keys? Or is it my fingers?! I keep on missing out letters and having to delete and go back and change them, its happening every few words though. Hmm.. I need one of those programes that tells you how many times you've hit certain keys my backspace must be huge hehe.
So, important news I have to tell.
A Levels
So I completed my A Levels back in late June. These being very important exams for they decide my future [or at least if I get into drama school or university] and alas.. I got my results on the 17th August. They are as follows:
Drama and Theatre Studies: A
Performing Arts: B
English Literature: B
*yipppieeee* Basically I needed my grades to be BBC in order to get into Rose Bruford [the drama school]...and by gettng ABB of coure I managed to SMASH my required grades and do super super well. I was surprised actually with how well I did. *stops to pause for a moment of reflection*... I thought that I would do alot worse in my English, especially seen as I totally revised for one of my exams completely wrong, and that meant I did no revision for it [and it turned out I got a B on that paper, in comparision to another paper I did 3 weeks of revision I got a D lol] Of course I was even more happy to discover that I got back my AS grade for my English Lit: Shakespeare paper [the one I failed twice on and retook AGAIN] ...
English Lit AS Shakespeare:
2005 June result - E
2006 January result - U [yes I went down a grade]
2006 June result - A
How the hell did I manage to actually FAIL completely on the shakespeare paper to then jump all the way up to an A on it, when I re re took it?! It does make you wonder about the sort of people that mark your paper and how much your grade could differ depending on who gets it. [Although they always say that the examiners are looking to GIVE marks no take away..hmm I wonder..]
So back to the important news:
I got offically accepted onto Rose Bruford on 17th August as well on recieving my results, and I can now OFFICALLY say that I'm a student at one of the top drama schools in the country, Wow. What a feeling!
I first realised I wanted to attend drama school when I was in year 9, I think thats when you're 13/14 years old? Since then I knew that I would leave my school at the end of year 11 and move onwards and upwards... but of course due to the nature of drama schools you can't apply until you get you A Levels, so instead I went to Cambridge to Long Road Sixth Form and spent two years there.. they were almost the two years of fun and frolics, yes it was stressful at times, but honestly.. I've never had so much fun learning before!
And now.. I'm going to be heading off to Rosey-B [my nickname for Rose Bruford] How do I feel? Extactic... worried... nervous... looking forward to an adventure, I'm really not quite sure what I feel anymore. At first it was just an overwhealming desire to run around naked proclaiming "I GOT IN!!"... yet now I have 14 days.. 2 weeks exactly.. until I move to Sidcup to my new flat and start a new part of my life.
So let me explain more about the new chapter of my life that is opening up before me at an alarming rate.
In 2 weeks I shall be moving to Sidcup, and moving into Queen Mary [the hospital] Accommodation. Not exactly what you would have expected for the first year at drama school/Uni. I sent off an application for attending Halls at Greenwich University... all was good until a few months later and I hadn't heard anything [There were 90 places available for Rosey-B students] I called my college up and they had no record of me sending back my forms. They got lost in the post. Damn Royal Mail!
Instead they offered me [as they have 30 places available] accommodation at Sidcup's Hospital, I decided to have a look first before I actually say yes... I went down there with mother.. and wow. The Accommodation is about half an hours walk from my college, but I'm use to that already. I got to look around about 5 or 6 flats, all slightly different. She suggested we have a look at Flat 64 first as it was her favourite... we went into Flat 64 and found it very nice, looked in Room A ... very nice indeed.. then we went into room C.. WOW. It was huge.. you opened it up and it was at least double or more the size of my room at home, even with patio doors that leads out onto a grass verge.
Of course I took it up straight away. So thats my little accomodation story. I have the largest room, also there is a shared kitchen, bathroom and toilet room. All very nice indeed.
I think I'm pretty much ready to leave home now, more in the sense that I have managed to go out and buy everything that I need, however emotionally and mentally I can't help but to think...
Am I ready to leave home?br />
I want to say yes. Over the past years I've grown up in so many ways, physically I'm a "man", mentally I'm as mature as the next adult, and some more, emotionally, well... thats an interesting one.
However much I believe I am ready, its going to be tough, I'm not really sure how I'm going to cope... if at all. I think I will be able to survive but then I think that the moment I'm left on my own I'm going to turn into an emotionally wreck and burn down my new flat and all that will be left is a hideous mess of what was once the "mature" Moi.
At least I can take comfort in knowing that everyone else is also in the same position that I am in and that hopefully all will be well with the world. I'm excited however about starting my course, having got my required reading list, and oh my! I only have 2 weeks to start to read them, heck! I think my course is going to be fantatic.
I've also done some research, or rather used google, hehe, to discover other people who have done my course and the sort of thing that they did there. It seems to me that the course is all about creating, devising, enlightening theatre and its devices towards new, experimental, and slightly European [as the course is European Theatre Arts] ... and I can just tell that I'm going to love it.
...
In other news..
Well I'm in a half light about if I should share what I want to share online. It's nothing bad, its just... I was only talking about a relationship that I was in, in my last blog. Well that relationship ended and it wasn't exactly in a good way. I did something I wasn't proud of.. afterwards it seemed that I was the hottest thing on the block. No jokes really intended..
The just broken up ex wanted me back.
An old ex wanted me to love him again.
My best friend made a move on me and I took it.
A hot, sexy person liked me too.
I spent a week crying, not because it was a sad situation because I was so confused. I'm not trying to sound an emotional wreck, but I just felt like I did not know where I stood in the world anymore. My life had literally been pulled apart by 4 different people, and each one was tugging at their part of me that they had and I didn't know who to turn to.
I did the following:
I told the most recent ex that what had happened had happened. I wasn't proud of what I did, and I didn't want anything else to happen between us, I wanted to be friends. [thats a summary of MANY random drunk phone cals, randon texts, MSN chats and more spread over a few weeks]
The old ex I declared that the past must be left where it was for I had moved steadily onwards to my future. But I still loved him greatly.
The best friend and I are now in a solid relationship and have been for the past month and 2 days. He is moving down to London to attend either Uni or College at the same time that I will be attending Rosey-B just south of London... so we are hoping that we can still keep things going the way that they are.
The sexy manbeast... well... nothing did ever happen there *sighs*
So after reading that you may wonder why I was so ... put off for wanting to disclose all of that, its just that my last entry over a month ago, I couldn't help but to ask about love and how many relationships I had been in... well I just feel awful that in my lifetime so far, I've dated many a person, luckily I can still count them on two hands without using my feet. Yet I still pose the question of, do we only receive love once? Does it matter that I've had so many relationships, especially when I never look for it these days.. they just find me..
Hmm. I feel some big debate is going to take place in my mind as to wheather or not my relationships have damanged my soul mate, if I have one... or worse, if I've met them and passed them by already. *sighs*
To not leave this entry on a sad note, I shall leave it on a happy one.
The other week, being last week I do believe, I took the time out to travel down to London to meet up with an online frind of mine and his friend. Adam I met through the Imogen Heap forums and we were going to attend Kate Havnevik's gig in Shepards Bush.
What an experience this was... not only just because Kate was just amazing, because she was. But the general nights events were pretty mindblowing. First of all the amount of people that were there were so few that it felt like it was a private function. I believe that about 50 people were there to watch and enjoy. There were tables set out at the front of the audience, so we nicked one of those and were literally meters away from the Piano and stage.
Another thing that was amazing was the people that where there. Guy Sigworth, a famous music producer/performer who has worked with Bjork, Britney, Madonna etc was there in the audience and even performed on stage. He was also once upon a time in a band called Frou Frou with Imogen Heap... oh and if you didn't realise I'm a HUGE Imogen Heap fan.. oh did I mention that she was also in the audience?! Along with another band I'm very fond of: Temposhark.
The night was just amazing, also because I met Imogen Heap, who signed a cd of mine and we spoke for about 15 minutes, before Kate Havnevik came over and started to speak with us and she also signed my cd that I brought of her's... WOW... what a night!
And that is where I will leave this entry, with my mind buzzing from excitment having met Imogen Heap and Kate Havnevik.. and awww...
Until next time,
luvs
xXx
It never ceases to amaze me that when I actually write in here its when I feel that I am at my creative overload and that if I don't create a piece of writing anytime soon, I shall explode in a hideous mess of artistic disaster. This leads me to wonder if I am pushing my luck by saying that my entries are creative at all. Afterall.. I'm normally talking about my life and that itself has creative limits.
So I was thinking that perhaps I should spice my entries up with tales of over exaggerated words of fast paced action, filled with flips and twists and altogether rather dramatic. Yet I am not one for compulsive lying it does nothing for the strains of life, so until I finally reach that stage, the truth works well.
According to my beloved father this summer is meant to be the summer. The only time in my life where I will have a strech of x amount of months/weeks with nothing to do - so surely I should make something of it. Yet I feel I have slightly failed him. I had plans, ideas, schemes of going away to America, Camp America to be precise. Yet that fell through. Then plans of wanting to run a play and put on a performance to remember, yet that never quite materialised. What about getting myself a new job with better pay to earn some pennies for University. No, didn't quite happen.
Instead I'm sharing my summer with a summer romance. Ah. That's strictly not true, I'm sharing it with a new boyfriend.
Oh it pains me to say that. How many lovers is one person meant to have over the course of their life? Does it matter? I just feel as though whenever I end a relationship, or vise-versa, another person just happens to stumble into my life, and normally without me realising they just did. It's never quite a gracefull transition into my life, but a stumble where I seem to fall for them and before I know it I get butterflies in my stomach.
So in all, my summer has frizzled down to spending it with a new lover, one that certainly knows how to push all the right buttons and makes me melt inside when he does puppy dogs eyes. A far cry from America/Plays/Jobs. Yet I'm enjoying it all the same.
Father, I may have failed in your dreams yet can we put a price on happy-ness? I think not.
Moving on now to Romeo and Juilet. I went to Stratford-Upon-Avon, the birth, living and death place of the world famous and genious that of Shakespeare. The Royal Shakespeare Company are running a marathon of ALL his works ever written, quite a challenge. And I have been lucky enough to see 2 of them so far. Possibly more in the future.
The play itself was interesting, I felt the design ideas were certainly interesting, using only part of the stage and the rest an area for the fellow actors to sit and watch, certainly added to it. Yet I felt that it lacked on love.
I always believe that was what the play was about, - the falling in love, the not being able to be in love due to backgrounds and finally how they do love, yet they die for it. Yet when talking to *old* Rob about it, he declared that the play was not about love at all, just that Romeo and Juilet desired each other on first glance, and then the rest was the ability to rebel against their family.
He is partly true yet I see love as something so wonderful that I thought grew and exsisted in the play.. yet this performance lacked it greatly. Stale love, played out too many times.
How many times have you and I played out those many love moments and realised it was stale? I've only experience what I thought love was once and realised that actually it was nothing more than the desire to feel loved and to rebel against my parents 'straight' fews. I was young, and now.. I feel and know love.
Thank you Tom :)
Yet that love even now is dissolving and developing into something else which I can't quite get my hands upon. It's complicated and unknown and I do wish you all the best for the future yet I want to be somehow a part of that, so alas, get in contact dear boy.
I think this entry was quite pointless. I really did not have anything to say, yet I feel I had to write. So I apologise for the lack of action but for the magic of words instead.
Over and out.
With love, as always,
xXx
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Jakey, 19, UK, England, Lives South London, Drama School Student [BA Hons], Drama, Performing Arts, English Lit, gay. Single/Taken, webdesign, photography, writing, singing, wants to be @ drama school Got accepted into Drama School, hates homo -phobia, spiders, heights, do you care enough to read ...more?
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