It Chapter Two... Was Ok

So the other night I went to go see It: Chapter Two and… I’m conflicted with how I think of the film. I don’t plan to make film reviews a big part of this blog… partly because what I want to do is talk about films without worrying that someone reading what I’m going to write has spoilers. So spoiler warning to anyone who will be prospectively looking to watch this film… this is not the entry to read if you don’t want to be spoiled of key plot points.

So that being said, I generally liked the film. I read the book for the first time in high school and didn’t read it again until years later after part one of this duology came out. Despite the awkward parts such as the “display of affection” we’ll call it, It probably is my favourite novel by Stephen King in spite of its length.

Let me make this clear to anyone who has decided that they don’t need to read the book now that they’ve seen the films: these timelines are far different from the book. The timelines being told separately instead of intertwined; the 50’s to 80’s setting for the kids; the Ritual of Chud; I could go on but know that whilst this is definitely an adaptation of the novel it is not a one-to-one translation of it from book to screen in so many respects. I don’t hold this, in and of itself, against the film. After all adaptations require you to decide what worked in in one medium and won’t work in another. I encourage you to read the book if you want to experience the story the way that it was intended.

Instead of reviewing the film in full I wanted to list off some of the things I liked and some of the things I didn’t so you can see where I, as a big fan of the novel and previous film, stand.

Dislike: No Maturin

Maturin is one of the book’s aspects that I’ve found people who haven’t read it think you’re joking about. Maturin, the giant turtle with wide connections to the rest of King’s Macroverse and directly involved with the creation of It, didn’t feature in the film despite earlier reports suggesting that he would be present. Hearing that he was going to be present, and then not bringing him in, was disappointing. Yeah I bet a lot of people would have been surprised at a space turtle suddenly being introduced when it’s a film trying to be taken seriously and when I mentioned it to my flatmate after having seen the film she was determined that it would have “been a lot of kack”.

Here’s the thing though… the film already has some silly elements. The way they beat Pennywise is insulting? The convenient drug hallucination? The clown torso on a spider body? I fail to see how Maturin was too much. I turned to my friend, a fellow King lover, when Ben went back to school and there was a turtle figure and said “if Maturin doesn’t make it, that’s such a tease”. Well consider me teased.

Maturin is a weird part of the book, but he was part of King’s original work and you can’t tell me that having Bill or Richie reacting to him in the film (particularly with the actors cast) would not have been one of the absolute highlights. The general audience members would have felt that it was weird? Considering some of the alternative choices made that I saw elicit an “oh please” reaction, I fail to see how the giant space turtle was too far.

#releasethematurincut

Like: The Cast

The child actors from the first film were all fantastic, with Finn Wolfhard and Jack Dylan Grazer being the standouts for me. If the child actors had been bad I don’t think the film would have been praised in the slightest: the film rests on them and they carry it. The casting for the adult ‘Losers’ was going to be an essential aspect to this film working at all and I’m happy to report that I liked them all.

Whilst I was disappointed that Jason Bateman wasn’t cast as Bill (I still think he would have been the perfect choice for the role), James McAvoy continues to demonstrate that he is one of the most diverse actors working today. Jessica Chastain was unsurprisingly great because honestly when isn’t she. The actors playing Ben, Eddie and Stan were all good as well. The one I was most unsure of was Mike because I thought I was not going to be able to get over it being “The Old Spice Guy” but he was vulnerable enough to be completely convincing in the role.

Every review I’ve come across has praised Bill Hader in particular for his role as Richie Tozier and speaking as someone who declared that he should play adult Richie immediately after I saw the first film… he delivered on absolutely everything for the character. Between this and Barry I’m baffled that Bill Hader is still not the A-List actor that he deserves to be.

Dislike: The Length

The length, in and of itself, wasn’t a problem. The book is over 1,000 pages so to condense it into two average length films would have resulted in an unsatisfactory adaptation. For this reason, the decision to effectively split the two timelines (adults and kids) was a good idea, allowing the first film to serve as a standalone 80’s adventure film in a similar vain to Stranger Things. The fact that the two films together are five hours (this film alone being more than half of that runtime) is not the problem. My problem is that it was long and there were things that would have been better fitted in the bloated run time.

For every great scene involving Pennywise (see my next like) there was a formulaic one. The entirety of the Artefacts search was the same: Reminder of why this means something to them; jump scare; interaction with Pennywise and his alternate forms; escape and comments about how scary. I get that it’s meant to be the characters overcoming their individual fears and past, but it became really predictable. Eddie for example has a run-in with the Leper from the first film and it got to the point where not only did I know what was coming, but I was able to correctly predict the exact location where the Leper was going to come out and jump scare from. When I’m thinking more about the mechanics of how you are trying to scare me, instead of being genuinely invested in the scene, the scene just serves to pad the runtime.

You could have cut out Henry Bowers entirely. He is involved in both timelines in the original book… but his arc had been written in such a way in the first film that he could have easily not been in this second film. For those that don’t remember, he ends up falling down the well towards Pennywise at the end of the first film. They show where he ended up but it would have been so easy to just show his dead body or a missing person poster and cut him out. His scenes just inflated the run time and removing them would have either made the film more streamlined or given you more time for the Losers themselves.

Like: The Hall of Mirrors Scene

Even knowing that Bill was not going to be able to save the kid he was trying to save from Pennywise, the scene was tense. What made it work more than the other set-pieces was the disorientation. It’s preceded by clown dummies going back and forth and knocking Bill over. I’d be shocked if the similar look and feel of The Killing Joke was coincidence.

I’ve never been in a proper hall of mirrors. I’ve been in the small ones that you get at a tiny fair sure, but they were very linear… probably so deliberately so that kids didn’t get lost and scared in there. This scene nailed the disorientation that I’m sure people go through when they’re in a hall of mirrors. It added to the tension because it’s not like Bill could have simply run faster and reached the kid. It increased the feelings of both urgency and panic, making it one of the best thrilling scenes I’ve seen in a long time.

Dislike: Stan

So the actor playing Stan was good for the short time he was present. The character’s adult version is not a big presence in the book so this is not a criticism of the film. What really got me annoyed was how they changed his motivation. In the book, and the set up from the original film, Stan is the distant character. He has what seems to be an underlying disdain for Bill and is the weakest of the group… which says a lot considering Eddie. His decision to kill himself rather than face It is a major aspect of the character: unlike the rest of the characters who eventually learn to overcome their fear and come together, Stan has to decide whether to break his promise or face his fears… to which he eventually gives in. It’s a great dynamic and makes for great drama with the other characters: was the promise to remain pointless and if Stan saw it fit to go back on his promise, why shouldn’t they?

In this film they make his suicide a selfless act for the benefit of his old friends which for me was trying too hard to make the character more likeable. Early in the film Bill comments about his endings not being happy because “life isn’t like that” and I wish the film had reflected that instead of trying to make each character’s ending happy. I just don’t think that it was necessary. I know people might say that they needed all of the Losers to be involved in the killing of It… but we already got the scene where Richie gets inspired to fight with his friends after being inspired by Stan’s words at his Bar Mitzvah. It would have been far more powerful for the Losers to know that whilst Stan was selfish in his suicide anyone of them could have done the same and acknowledge it as a human response. Narratively I simply could not get behind it.

Like: Richdie

Despite liking the film I found it far easier to list things I disliked in the film than I didn’t. In my last dislike I mentioned the change in the book regarding Stan. I’ve always been one to allow changes from the book that make sense, and the change that stood out to me was the relationship between Richie and Eddie. We don’t get confirmation as to how physical the relationship was, or even if Eddie specifically reciprocated Richie’s feelings. The thing is… that worked for the film. Richie’s sexuality that he hid from the group was vague and considering that in-universe it was the secret he didn’t want getting out there, it makes sense that there was no revelation as to what it meant. When he’s crying at the end (masterful acting by Hader) you gauge just how much he cared for Eddie. It was done so well and let you make your own inferences. The scene would have been jeopardised if there was a monologue explaining it, and I’m glad they restrained themselves.

Concluding Thoughts:

It was always going to be a very difficult book to adapt to film or TV. Considering the sheer length of it, as well as content that varies from abstract to questionable we were never going to get a literal translation of the book to the screen. Despite my disappointment that I didn’t get to see Maturin, the films need to be judged on their own merits and not how loyal it was to every story point from the books.

Where these films (mostly) succeed is in the presentation of It as a playful and powerful foe, and the believable friendship for its cast of characters. Differences in the story aside, the strength and chemistry of the cast carried the spirit of the novel to leave me a satisfied watcher.

I have no doubt that we will eventually get another adaptation of the book 10 to 20 years from now because of the nature of Hollywood and modern day storytelling. Pennywise is just far too well-known in pop culture to let the role end here. I’ve heard the director suggest that there is far more mythology which could be used in a prequel story which would hopefully include Maturin… but who knows if general audiences will show up for it. Truth be told though, I doubt we’ll get that story.

We live in a world where Lord of the Rings is getting an Amazon series again which is set in the world of Middle-Earth and may/may not be an adaptation of the books it is named after. When studios are far more happy to try to force The Hobbit to be The Lord of the Rings instead of adapting The Silmarillion, I don’t there’s enough perceived sufficient interest to tell the more risky stories.

These particular versions of It came about because of the nostalgia craze for the 1980’s and was met with the same success and applause that greeted Stranger Things. The first film worked out splendid and the second one had mixed results, but I’m fond of the two films and think that these are the best adaptations we are ever going to get of the book. And, if I’m being completely honest, I’d rather we leave this story here. Release any footage available of Maturin, and let’s give other horror stories that haven’t had their pop culture shot a chance.

#wheresmaturin

Short Story - Dark Ride

It’s taken me a while to realise I’ve actually woken up. I could have sworn that my eyes were open but it was so dark that I genuinely couldn’t tell. By no means have I ever had perfect vision but you can always tell when it’s just dark outside, and when it’s pitch black.

Where am I? I remember eating and… that’s it I think. I was eating the slop that my servers dared to call “food” and that’s the last thing I remember. I can’t even remember falling asleep.

As I continue to wake up so does the rest of my body. I can feel my legs but I can barely move them. I try to take a step but it’s rubbing against something soft and bulky. I try harder to move my leg, pushing against the unknown object. It feels strong, so I push my leg harder. It still doesn’t move, but I continue.

“I know we’re cramped but would you bloody knock it off” I hear a frustrated voice reply. The voice is deep and sure.

“Sorry mate” I reply, “Can’t see anything”.

“Fair enough, just keep your legs to yourself. There’s not enough room for all of us to stretch them” the voice responds.

I feel bad that I’ve invaded someone’s personal space but considering I’ve woken up and haven’t a fucking clue where I am the guilt subsides after a few moments. He seems to have let it go which puts me at ease. It’s only at this point that I register the chatter going on all around us. I feel like I recognise the voices but with no light to match voice to face it’s might just be my imagination. I can’t actually hear what anyone is saying. There’s a bit of crying but it sounds like it’s a few meters away.

When I hear the wind I think that I am starting to put the pieces together of where I am. The floor is steadily vibrating and I can hear fast objects whizzing past. I think I’m in a van or a lorry. If we’re driving at a reasonable speed it would explain why I can hear the wind. The whizzing? Probably some cars going past that don’t want to waste any time.

Oh hello fear, didn’t think you’d be visiting me so soon. Oh and you’ve brought your friend dread along too. I suppose it isn’t a surprise that you’re here in all honesty, it’s not every day you find yourself thinking that you’ve been trapped in the back of a moving vehicle with no space to move.

It’s so hot in here. Unbearably so, and I can’t do anything to cool down on account of being effectively pinned into place.

“So… where are we?” I ask my new friend hoping for to ease my anxiety. I might not be able to change what’s going on but a little bit more clarity would do me well.

If it wasn’t so dark I’d have been able to see the eye-roll I could sense in his reply. “Does it make a difference?”

What do you do with a response like that? I write the response off as trying to come across ambivalent for his own sanity. There’s no way you’re not worried in this situation and his attempt to resign himself from concern isn’t convincing me.

“I’d say it matters. Oddly enough I’ve never found myself in this kind of situation before” I quickly retort. Probably a bit too sarcastic on my part but it’s better than screaming in pure terror. No point getting hysteric until I know there’s something to get hysteric about. That can come later.

My new friend was silent for what felt like hours, though that might just be the dread I’m trying to fight. I began speculating on what was going on around me. Nothing I could think of was positive and the longer the silence continued to more panicky and extreme my ideas got.

“We’re driving mate”. He finally responded. “There’s about 40 or 50 of us in here. Don’t ask me to introduce you to anyone cause I don’t know them and can’t be arsed to find out”.

40 or 50? Ok the anxiety is definitely hitting now. No wonder it’s so hot…. No wonder I can’t move. I’m still not sure whether it’s a van or a lorry that I’m in but if there’s 40 to 50 of us stuck in here there can’t be much room around us. Then again I can’t see anything so maybe I’ve just found myself in the middle of an involuntary huddle.

There’s a sharp bump and the floor feels like it’s pushing up at us. It’s killed the chatter completely. Wherever we are is now flooded with the sound of horrified gasps and panicked murmurs. The chatter that I can hear is far more audible now that not everyone is doing it.

“You should hear what happened to Rob, broke his bloody heart” I overhear.

I shout to ask what happened to Rob but I can’t be heard over the shouts of “WHO’S ROB!!” and “WHERE’S ROB!!”. Whilst my first instinct is to question what makes this Rob so special, I realise that things can always get worse. On one hand I’m happy that I’ve not had a distinct and separate event that discerns me from the rest of the trapped. To feel something right now though that isn’t fear or dread… I’m desperate to hear what happened to Rob.

Another bump and more gasps. Even my new friend has let out a few concerned breaths. There is no-one talking now though. The crying has also gone silent. Suddenly amongst the silence I hear a gravelly shout.

“NO-ONE’S COMING TO HELP US!!”

The area is still silent. I expect everyone like me is trying to figure out where the shout came from. I hear the same voice shout again though it’s far calmer than the terror in the previous declaration.

“I’ve been able to see outside the whole journey. There’s a hole here. We’re travelling somewhere and I don’t know where. There’s so much green everywhere. I was looking outside and we were driving beside a family, looked a friendly lot. There was a kid in the back with legs stretched out and laughing at a screen they were holding. Cute little thing. That space she has and the joy on her face… we’ve only been in here a few hours but I miss it. I couldn’t stop staring. She turned her head to look outside and saw me. She looked me straight in the eyes. I don’t know if she saw me crying and I hope she didn’t… because she turned back to her screen and started laughing again. No-one’s coming to help us, no-one cares”.

Silence all around. No-one knew what to say because what can you. We’re in the dark, cramped and have no idea what is going on. We’re not thinking positively because has this ever sounded like a positive situation?

What felt like days later, the vibrating stopped as did the wind. We didn’t have time to react before there was a sudden blinding light. Painful gasps erupted out of everyone. Eventually my eyes readjusted and I could see everyone around me. 40 to 50 seemed an understatement. Slowly but surely we were taken out of the dank space. I turned around and could see that it was indeed a lorry that we had been trapped in for so long. I don’t know how many of us had been compacted in there… and I don’t want to think about why some of us were being dragged unresponsive.

I can hear the gravel beneath me as I move my hooves across the pavement. I’ve not used my legs for what seems like an eternity, but I enjoy every single step. I’d skip if I wasn’t so heavy. There’s a building about a half mile ahead that I can already see my herd being guided towards. It doesn’t look particularly big for what I expect to be our new home. There’s quite a bit of noise coming from over there and I’m not sure if it’s laughter or screaming. We’re all being guided in that direction by a few people so we’ll find out soon.

Death Becomes Her

Death Becomes Her:

“Perhaps a man really dies when his brain stops, when he loses the power to take in a new idea.”

George Orwell

So in the recent weeks prior to my writing this essay, I lost an Auntie very suddenly. I’ve been dealing with the event, and the funeral, since first hearing the news. Death, particularly when it occurs to someone you’ve known either intimately or for a long period of your life, can be hard to process and rationalise. I say either because not every person in your life that dies will be someone who has a complete role, or one that is a defining part of you. This is not a revelatory comment I’m sure you will agree and I’m willing to wager that pretty much every person reading this has experienced the death of someone close to them before.

If a death comes about very suddenly it can be difficult to even readjust to the realisation that it’s happened, let alone come to terms with it. Often we can feel like being told of it is a sick joke as we don’t register that people can, and often do, die without any graceful or determined end. I’m sure we’d all love the cinematic ending where we get to say something poignant in the last moments of life but how often is that actually the case? When there is an ongoing illness you can try and prepare yourself for it with more time to process even if it doesn’t make the grieving any easier.

In relation to my Auntie there was no series of events where I heard she was in hospital frequently with me fearing that it would be her last day. That isn’t to say that she wasn’t in hospital often… I genuinely didn’t know. She may well have been in hospital every week and I didn’t know about it with the information simply not being passed on to me and my not having sought it out. Even if that is the case, it does not change the lived experience I’m going to write about.

When I was told about my Auntie having passed, I woke up on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking and playing Final Fantasy XV to a phone call from my dad giving me the news. If you’re reading this essay and hoping that this is a piece to honour my Auntie by way of a literary tribute proclaiming the good that she’s had in my life… I suggest you stop here and go about your day. I’m a pessimist and write the way I think. Despite my misleadingly optimistic demeanour you’re not going to get that kind of piece from me.

My Auntie isn’t a member of the family that I’ve been particular close to for quite some time but the death was still a shock and impacted my general mental health after the news. The first emotion that I felt though was not sadness or even that general feeling of emptiness that my depression normally afflicts me with: it was anger. Anger at my Auntie and anger at myself.

The state of my mental health has been weak for some time now and despite the multiple events that have occurred over the last few months of my life, this was the event that got me to reflect on a lot of my actions and behaviours. This piece is for me to vent what’s going on in my mind so that it’s coming out in a coherent manner instead of after a few bottles of Thatcher’s. I hope this piece helps you to realise that if you’ve ever felt anything other than sadness following the death of a family member, you’re not necessarily wrong to feel that way. Death and the human condition is a funny thing and we should be able to discuss and question it.

“I believe that when I die I shall rot, and nothing of my ego will survive.”

Bertrand Russell

The Time is Never Right

“One should die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly.”

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

Like I’ve said, my Auntie and weren’t too close in her final years. If you dial the clock back by about 10 to 15 years she was the cool Auntie with plenty of attitude, but she knew exactly who she wanted to be. She was the Auntie that bought me the Harry Potter books immediately after hearing how much I loved the first film (the four that had been released at the time at least); she was the one who hung out with us kids when a lot of the family was socialising at the pub on holiday; she always had a sassy comment at the ready to bring life into the room. She was also well liked and a typical Yorkshire lass, even at one point making it into the local paper for a heroic act of defence. Like any family member you learn more and more stories the older you get and while there were definitely some less than flattering stories that occurred in those previous years, they didn’t change my overall perception of her.

Things changed after her father died. Whether that was the cause of her decline is something I’m not qualified to comment on and I don’t want to needlessly speculate. About 5 or 6 years after we lost my grandad, she quickly got a reputation for asking for money at every opportunity, lying about her circumstances and being known to a pub as a usual that she denied frequenting. For the last few years of her life she embodied every bad thing about Britain that I’ve ever considered. Can work and refuses to but then proclaims immigrants are stealing jobs? Blames everything except herself for the problems she believes she faces? Uses the deaths of family members as excuses for bad behaviour? Yeah, not someone I could respect.

When her mother died as well I saw her at the funeral which was my first contact with her in probably a year. I hadn’t made a conscious effort to not see her mind you, I was busy with things in my own life including a busy schedule with work and volunteering. Let me put it another way. Towards the beginning of this rambling essay I mentioned that I’d been playing FFXV when I heard the news. As someone who enjoys an evening with a pint of cider and a PS4 controller in hand, this was how I was typically spending my non-working hours. Over the last month when I’d thought more about Noctis, Ignis, Prompto and Gladiolus than I had my Auntie.

What I saw at the funeral was not the image of my Auntie I had previously known… she was losing her hair and having to use a wheelchair because of the damage she had done to her. Was it due to binge drinking and potential other drugs? I don’t know, I’m not a doctor. Considering my own alcohol intake I was not one to criticise someone else’s drinking either. That was one thing, but the last image of her I will ever have from when she was alive is declaring that she won’t be having a single drink (in the same place that I’ll be attending her wake soon) and less than an hour later having to be carried away because she had drunk so much so quickly and was vomiting all over herself at my Grandma’s wake. I was seeing my favourite band perform live in York with a very good friend that evening so we naturally had different way of the grief.

I bring all this up because the evening after I had discovered this I had a lengthy chat with my sister we struggled to think of the recent happy memories. I’ll get into this more a bit later, but for now I’ll say that there is no right time for death in the family to come about and trying to rationalise it as all part of one big plan may work for some… but not me.

“Death was far more certain than God.”

Graham Greene

Heavenly Thoughts:

“You cannot change what you are, only what you do.”

Philip Pullman

I’ve never been a practicing religious person. The times that I attended Church on a Sunday when I was younger were always through Cubs/Beavers, and the only time that I prayed for anything was when I saw it as a last resort. When my Grandad was taken into hospital when I was about 16 I did pray, begging for God to prove himself and spare my beloved family member. I know that isn’t how prayer is supposed to work but when you’re desperate for something to happen you’ll try anything. It got me thinking about the way people, even atheists, allow God into their lives when something like this happens. For example, people say that when people pass away that you should only focus on the good. I have no intention of railing against my Auntie for the rest of my life, but I’m also not going to praise her as a perfect soul whose death will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Despite a keen interest in theology, I’m an atheist: I don’t believe in Heaven, Hell or any kind of afterlife. One of the things you often get assured of by a lot of people is “you know they’re up there looking down happily” which is a sentiment I appreciate but I have to often disregard. I know people are saying it to assure you that the people who have passed on aren’t suffering, but if I’m someone who doesn’t believe in a Deity and therefore acts as if there isn’t one, it’s rather hypocritical to act as if there is a heavenly place where the dead can spend eternity in pure happiness. I’d fall victim to the same selective approach to religious teachings that I often accuse theists of when there are scriptural defences of banning gay marriage. That being said if there is a good place for us to go to after we pass away, I’d love to go if for nothing else than to teach my grandparents to drink properly.

In the process of drafting this I found myself reading C. S. Lewis’s The Problem of Pain which has actually helped me come to terms with the issues of bereavement in the family and understanding how some people see death. It’s not helped me find faith again by any means and I’ve major problems with the book (it’s intellectually dishonest at times), but it’s assured me that even Christians aren’t entirely sure of what God’s plan. “Finding your own good” is a suggestion as to what God wills us to do despite his insistence of certain things being prohibited elsewhere in the Bible. Even those who literally have God on their side telling them why some people suffer and die in ways we deem unfair can’t explain it. Believer or not, none of us know for sure what happens after we die. We can hope of course, and a lot of our hope comes in how we act when mourning.

Nobody likes a funeral and my Auntie’s was the fourth time I’d attended the same Crematorium in the last five years. During the funeral there were of course readings from the books of Isaiah, as well as stories shared about my Auntie over the years. What I noticed was that instead of putting forward anything about how she has lived the last decade, the most recent event was something that happened in 2004. It’s so easy to ignore the bad and look at the past with rose tinted glasses. I know it’s standard funeral speak but one of the things that bugged me was the declaration that my Auntie “gave her life and walked in the light of Jesus Christ”. I know that that this is standard wording of a funeral but it’s also inaccurate to suggest that my Auntie was a practicing theist.

I didn’t pray during the funeral. I did not actively partake in the religious aspects of the funeral. I know the Lord’s Prayer, but I remained silent. I knew when to say amen, and again I remained silent. I’ve always thought that if there is a God and he saw me, he’d rather me not pretend to have faith in him a la Pascal’s Wager. Partaking in celebration of him, and the apparent “close bond” he had with my Auntie is not something I thought was appropriate.

“We lie best when we lie to ourselves.”

Stephen King

Actual Life After Death:

“But we know that people are complicated and have a mixture of flaws and talents and sins. So why do we pretend that we don’t?”

Jon Ronson

I mentioned at the beginning of this piece that I am angry at myself. I spoke with my sister on the phone that evening and we both struggled to think of the last time that we had said anything positive about her. My earlier description about how she was the epitome of what I didn’t like about modern society? That’s been my mindset for a long time. It was accurate when I last saw her and all the times she’s been brought up in conversations about her. This is why I was so annoyed at myself: despite my recalling some great memories with my Auntie, the ones that are going to last are the worst parts of her. She may have improved following Grandma’s funeral… but I did nothing to see her again to see if that was the case.

When people die you often have regrets about things you said or conversations that you wished you had had. For me, I will live with the fact that I saw worst parts of my Auntie and didn’t try hard enough to fix it. For all my talks of being Egalitarian, I generally see the worst in people and that’s not healthy. But when someone dies are we to let all of the bad things slide and pretend people were someone they were not? I had a wonderful relationship with my Grandad and one of my biggest regrets in life is that I never got the chance to sit down and just talk to him with a tumbler of good whiskey. If he were alive though I have no doubt we would disagree on the vast number of topics. The conversations me and my dad have had regarding Brexit?

If there is any positive to come out of my Auntie’s death it’s a reminder that it’s important to change things whilst you can. What’s worth noting is that I have had two Aunties go through similar issues when it comes to alcohol. The Auntie that I have that is still alive was given a substantial scare to say the very least and effectively told that, if she didn’t change her behaviours when it came to drinking, she’d be dead soon. She did change her behaviours and is a much better person in herself for it. She could very easily have taken the route and chosen to die on her own terms and for everything that she has been able to change, I can do nothing but commend her. Unlike my unfortunately deceased Auntie I am in a position where I can explore a lot of myself through self-reflection. I can see my character flaws that have amplified over the last few years. I can see how my behaviours are affecting the people around me. I can see that using alcohol as a crutch to deal with issues doesn’t deal with the issues and only creates more issues.

This piece is pretty much just a ramble of general musings and thanks to anyone who’s stuck with it. I don’t know what I want people to take away from this. The truth is that I’m not alone in this immediate feeling. In the past week two of my best friends have also lost loved ones and they seem to be going through the same emotions. Their anger is different to mine, with their loved ones being far closer relatives than mine and it not being fair that they have had to pass away so suddenly. Everyone mourns in different ways but for me the thing I want to avoid is falling into hypocrisy. People are flawed and it’s ok to acknowledge that, but when someone dies their flaws don’t disappear. By the same token, a lot of people are incredibly good and there are incredibly joyful times that remind us of the full lives we lead. This doesn’t just extend to people either: I was emotionally hit by the death of my dog to a level some discuss losing a sibling, and I am far from alone in this regard.

It’s best that we learn from the mistakes of those who have passed before us whilst also celebrating life. We need to acknowledge everything, the good and the bad, that has shaped us. We have to keep going in life and

“There are only moments. Live in this one. The happiness of these days.”

Philip Pullman

Let's Get This Started

I’ve intended to write blogs multiple times. Come up with the name, post one article and then… nothing. I think that the issue has been that I’ve always wanted to do something else at the same time and chose the more relaxing option. With my mental health being all over the place over the last few months in particular I’ve decided to do something healthier to sink my time into instead of reaching for a bottle. Writing is something I’ve started and stopped doing on occasion but following recent events, and the amount I’ve written offline, I’ve found it helps me to get my thoughts out there instead of cluttering my mind.

So what do I intend to write about on this platform? The truth is… anything and everything. I haven’t set this up for any purpose other than to get my writing out there and to help with my mental health. Sometimes the writing will be political; sometimes it will be a casual declaration that I love a book; sometimes it will just be a funny observation I’ve had that day.

The first post (beyond this introduction) that will be uploaded is a piece about coming to terms with the death of my Auntie and the complexities of an Atheist’s lack of belief, yet desire for afterlife. Starting out with light reading for sure. There’ll be no set pattern as to when I write because I don’t know what I’m going to want to write about, or how long what I want to write about will be. Expect periods of radio silence one month, and almost daily updates the next.

Thanks for taking the time to read the ramblings of a confused twenty-something at a weird stage of his life.