Fuyucon! Fuyucon! Fuyucon!

Ahem.

FUYUCON! FUYUCON! FUYUCON!

Hee . . . Yes, I went to Fuyucon. For people who don't know what it is, it's an anime/manga convention that took place in Nottingham last weekend.

I went with Dommel and Gemz for the Saturday. Dommel dressed as Daisuke I was Ed, and Gemma just wore a blond wig XD Various events going on throughout the day, like the Masquerade, learning to Para Para dance (freaky, but fun), general japanese-y stuffs. Best part about the whole thing was the people. Nearly everyone was cosplaying and some of the costumes were simply amazing. I'll put photos up as soon as I can be bothered~

Oh, best moment of the whole con:

There were 3 other people dressed up as Ed. A couple of em spotted me so one shouted- "Hey, there's another Ed! Let's have an orgy!"

To which I replied - "Sure, why not." - and ran off to join in. Poor Gemma. She's scarred for life now XD

Anyways, definitely a great day. Gotta find another one to go to at some point =P

Know what else I hate? Reading my own thoughts and so on after I've written them down somewhere. It kind of represents all the pretentious rubbish everyone else comes out with when they're trying to get sympathy or worry people on purpose. How to explain this better? Hmm. Emos are a good example of what I mean. I highly dislike emos because of the whole 'oh, my poor bleeding heart' idiocy that's so fashionabe to spout now. I don't actually know if it's worse for a person to write such things purposefully knowing them to be false or silly, or to actually believe them. Perhaps why I now dislike reading my old poetry - the immaturity of it is evident in every line. But then, even that's not what I mean. Hmm . . . what I mean is that I hate people who purposefully seek attention by giving off as many 'oh, I really need a lot of sympathy I'm having such a tough time' vibes as they can. I dunno, they might do it through being sulky around friends, or writing depressing poetry and posting it on the web in a very obvious place so all their mates can read it. Now, this doesn't mean I dislike people who do this and mean it. Yes, for some people it really is a genuine expression of feeling, something they want others to read to actually understand a little more of how they feel. What I dislike is when there's no real reason for it - when they're trying to get attention for the 'wrong reasons'. And you see, whenever I read things like this blog entry and previous one, they always seem to fit the criteria above. Maybe they don't to you, but I personally can't stand them. I guess it's a little like not being able to stand the sound of your own voice. I guess the only saving grace here is that I do try to be as honest as possible in writing. Actually, I think it's become a rather bad habit that I tend to be too honest in writing. I go off on a tangent (more likely several), or am just a little too open on things I would rather not be. And do you know, those last two sentences are good examples of what I despise. Hell, maybe it's the honesty that I despise! And there it is again! Contemplative, poetic nonsense. If you don't like then why don't you just delete it? Delete all of it and be done with it. But I won't. I don't like doing that, with any piece of writing, really. Do you know, this almost sounds like a story? Real life always seems far to fictional to be real. Thoughts and emotions - too well laid out, too precise, too easily fitted into the fabric of prose and poetry. Too convenient. Do I sound like a cynic? I think I tend to, in writing. But then, if you catch me on another day I may be the most optimistic person on earth, the sky's the limit and all that. Or I might be quiet, contemplative, caught in wonder perhaps, marvelling at the fact that . . . well, lots of things, really.

Ah! I just realised why I sound so cynical! It's because I'm analysing myself. I think I do it a lot anyway, it's just that it all becomes clearer in writing. Hmm, no doubt I'll go away, come back and then re-read this and cringe. I do apologise for wasting your time. This wasn't realy written for you, anyway. Wasn't written for anyone. Just written.

Dear lord, I'm so bored I'm actually writing to my blog. I wonder if writing stuff like this is easier when you do or don't know others will read it? In this case, I highly doubt it'll be read, but then, I also doubt it'll have any important content. But if you're quite happy to sit and read my ramblings for a bit then go ahead.

hmm? interesting news? none that I intend to announce to the world. Well, more accurately, none that I would defile by talking about it in writing. Is it just me, or does it seem quite disrespectful to talk about such things in a chatroom or on msn? Much better to be vague in those contexts, as I am here. Maybe it's just me. But I'd rather talk about that stuff over the phone or face to face. But then, if I were to call someone, I would have no idea what to say. And does anyone else get the distinct impression that, even when it's your best mate you're talking to on the phone, they really dislike you? Maybe it's because you can't see the other person's facial expressions, and you can't always tell how a person is feeling just from the tone of their voice. I'm serious! I often feel like the other person would actually like nothing more than to just stop talking to me. Maybe it's just awkwardness on both ends.

Man, talking to people. That's one hell of a hardship now. Have nothing to say on the phone, don't have the guts to say it face-to-face. And I'm supposed to be the 'confident' one. The downright unsociable cynic is more like it. Or is it insociable? Ah, who cares. But it's annoying to know exactly what I'd like to say to my friends - Hell, I practically have whole conversations planned out that I would like to have with them - but the oppurtunity to actually talk about it never presents itself. And I'd rather not just simply 'make' such an oppurtunity. Again, too awkward. But there is a lot I'd like to talk about. I want to share my experiences with them, discuss how I felt that exact moment . . . how I've felt ever since, how there are some things I want their opinions, their advice on. Mind you, if any one of them came and directly asked me for such a conversation, I'd have no idea how to put this stuff into words. Oh, it's all so poetic sounding and shit in my mind, but I'm not good at that kind of thing, really. Even this blog thing is coming out clumsily. And me a writer, too. But it has to be my friends I talk to about this. Not my family, because they're hurting too, and I can't share it like a communal fountain, otherwise I might break. Or some other silly nonsense like that. 'Might break'. How bloody pretentious. Can't talk to a stranger either. Not some stupid counsellor who knows nothing of me, of who I am, of who he was. And most certainly not Diane, that blasted school 'nurse'. Bloody school nanny is more like it. Doubtless when I'm back at school I'll have some kind of fucking offer to 'talk'. Bollocks to that. And she's such a cow in her own way. In that she's just like every other idiot who feels that they have to sympathise with everyone on absolutely everything. And she'd make that face. God I hate that face. If you don't know, it's a bit like a puppy dog face, where the eyes go wide and the mouth contorts a bit in an expression of 'ohmyI'msoveryverysorryyoumustbefe
 elingsoterribleohyoupoorpoorthing'
 . Do you know, I think someone actually said that to me! "Oh, you poor thing." God, the bastards.

Hmm. Can I be bothered to put that all into paragraphs?

. . .

No.

Oh, dinner's ready now. Well, I'm off.