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Yes, I was becoming attractive to women. This happened during the first week at uni, when a girl began to dance with me in a club and then - things progressed from there. My non-stop dancing nature had caused much comment with my flatmates, including a humourous comparison to the Duracell Bunny (he keeps going, and going and goin...) Unfortunately, this chummy nickname of Duracell took on a more sinister meaning, and has since become the name with which I associate that part of my character. I still don't know exactly why I was attracting so much female attention, but it was happening with frightening regularity. It got to the point where I felt that I couldn't ever say "no" to a woman because I had this reputation, I didn't want anyone to think "He slept with everyone else, so why won't he sleep with me? What's wrong with me?" It truly was the shallowest point of my life, with casual sex aplenty and a distinct lack of emotion. This wasn't the only part of my life though, much like at secondary school, I had separate groups of friends to associate with. There were my flatmates from the first year, with whom I was Duracell, there was the house of Rock and Roll, with whom I was Blackburn John, I was John to some people from my course (Jim, Rory, Geordie Dave, Leigh and Silent Dave) who I would later live with and I was "Matey" or "Tony" to the Rock Society. Now, the House of Rock and Roll were very cool Metallers who threw the best parties of all time - regardless of your opinions, they were the best parties ever. Whilst the nerdy, stoner film fans from my course were my closest friends, they had more to do with the second part of my uni life. The rock society....I never was that close with the Rock Society, but they did put me in touch with two important influences: A Tottenham Fan called Rachel, and the Carnival of Souls.
Rachel was unusual. We both had a lot in common, spent every monday together, could make each other laugh and so on, but nothing ever happened, despite my sluttish nature. We would drink, chat, smoke and play pool before heading back to her flat. She would play her guitar as I led on the floor smoking weed. We would talk whilst this was happening, talk about our fears, hopes, philosophy, politics - everything. Strange. I just felt so comfortable around her, and she did around me, and we had real chemistry, but it never progressed beyond this. In a way, I'm thankful, what we had was very special. At the same time, I can't help but wonder what my life would have been like had we ever got together. After the first year though, I didn't see her anymore, just one or two chance meetings. I guess we were holding on to each other as a safe refuge, unhappy of how we portrayed ourselves to everyone else and then when we became more comfortable with who we were, we had no need for each other.
The Carnival of Souls were a strange group, organised nights out. They were composed of two main sections, the Goths and the Sado-Masochists. I got to know them through the goths, but became far more interested in the other side of it. I guess it was with these people that I started to realise why I had so little emotional connection with the townies I was sleeping with; the sex was bad. Boring. Repetative. They generously began to help me explore my own sexuality, and uncover the fetishes that we all harbour. At the time, I was thankful. I was enjoying sex and felt like I had an identity. Unfortunately, I didn't see what was going on there for quite a while. To me, it was a sex thing, and one part of who I was. To them, it was their lifestyle, the core of their being and they would continue their sex games and attitudes all the time. To them, I really was a worthless piece of shit, a slave to take out their frustrations and desires on. It was too late though, the damage to my self-esteem had been done by the summer holidays and even though I saw them far more infrequently, they had forced me into a niche, and from that point on, I always had problems with sex. Either the sex would be good and the relationship bad, or vice versa. |
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By the end of the first year, I had found my group of friends who I wanted to share the rest of my time at uni with. We smoked drugs, played video games and listened to music. I felt at ease around them and enjoyed every minute of their company. They were aware of my other lives (I hadn't made an attempt to hide it as I did at Secondary School) but they didn't seem to care, which made me feel so much happier about what I was doing. I was however, getting more and more upset at my sexual desires and decided once more to move away from a sex-orientated lifestyle, and gain pleasure through company, alcohol, comics and drugs.
My course was going OK too, I had a reputation there, for being a loud-mouthed, abrasive and cocky guy, but backed up with some intelligence. I took no shit from my lecturers and shouted about what I believed in. A tremendous transformation from the polite swot at Primary School. |
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Outside of university, I had begun to get to know Dan back in Blackburn. Together, we would smoke drugs and talk. I got to hear for the first time all the things that had happened to him that made him who he is, and realised for the first time that maybe I was pretty well adjusted. My problems paled into insignificance compared to his, and something I always have to remind myself of when I start to feel down. Whilst others have had things happen to them, I made everything happen to me. Everything was my decision, and try as I might, I could never believe that the universe was to blame for the bastard that I was. Shallow, twisted, bitter and unhappy. |
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