25 Years Too Late...

25 Years Too Late...

Saturday, 31 January 1987

Child of January

4.50pm.

Suddenly I am a child of January. 


There’s a crescent moon
In the pale blue sky
Above a band of red
That soothes my eyes 
The mist is rising
From my cloudy mind
Exposing all the twisted
Thoughts I’d like to leave behind 
And I know where I’m going to
And I know where I’m coming from
And I know where my heart still bleeds
But I know who turns me on.



Later:

‘Transmission’ – Japan

So.  I went to Wisbech to meet Hannah Holm.  Before I set off, I did my hair and make-up whilst listening to Japan’s Adolescent Sex album, which is excellent! 

I reached Wisbech at about 1.50pm and dossed for a while.  Briefly, I saw Danny and Sarah (his girlfriend), and then I met Hannah at 3pm-ish.  She handed over a blank cassette and we went to ANDREWS, where we chatted about Wuthering Heights, The Omen, Drama, Acting, School, College, Kate Bush, Japan and much more.  We have so much in common.

We wandered around Wisbech and I was very happy with her company.  I hope she was happy with mine.  On the way to ATTIC ANTIQUES an old woman stopped in front of us and stared at my hair, saying:



‘I don’t know why, but I find it nice to see a young man with long, fluffy hair.  It makes a nice change, and your hair looks a lot better than all those others who cut it all short and severe.  Yours is very good.  I like it!’

I said ‘thank you’ and walked away very surprised.



After another visit to ANDREWS with Hannah, I walked her back to her house in Magazine Lane (near BMW’s).  I walked home (a few miles) taking the North Brink route.  I began to reminisce about the last time I walked down that part of the Brink, which was when Flash stayed, last summer.  Good old days.



I was happy today.  No worries.  Nothing.  I feel good and I am in the process of recording some Japan trax for Hannah.  Tomorrow it is February.  Roll on, Valentine’s Day.

Later:

‘Shelter from the Storm’ – The Mission



For me, this month, at first, meant the end of my life.  1987 grabbed me as a bit of a git and I just wanted to die, to escape life’s very frequent pressures and disappointments.  Finishing with Jen seemed to help make things better.  I don’t know how, though.  Was it just like finishing with BMW last year?  It simply freed up my emotional core or something?  And luckily, in retrospect, things with Sadie were never meant to develop.  Thankfully they didn’t.  I was also rather ‘interested’ in Monica Roseman, but I have let that one die in my head.  And after an afternoon with Hannah Holm, ‘as friends’, I realise this, too, is not to be…

This month’s clothes: skull necklace, small crucifix, J+MC T-shirt, black BR coat, Mission badge, tight black canvas jeans, red sash, black gloves, black suede boots.




[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’ section below) / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction. Cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context. Never forget: no man is an island. If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 13 July 2011 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]



NEXT TIME: ‘The hare…’

Friday, 30 January 1987

Ghosts of Yesterday

At Tech.

Today.  Today.  Today. 

The whirlwind in my mind cannot be told.  I cannot decipher the carnival of its language.  Only the ghosts of yesterday tell me I hate myself and all for which I stand.  Perhaps it is the doom lurking in my brain, like a sniper, lying in wait.  I should get back into my suits and shirts, my glasses.  And tear up these black old rags.  For what do I stand?  And where am I going?



In this sunlit room, my mind is almost blank.  It is a waste, in which I occasionally venture to recall interesting times, and love.  Why are my friends so far away?  And where did the smile of youth go?  This shaggy, crimped hair, this doped-up face and furry chin are all I know right now; the purple patterns on my belt, from that old shop; my ripped and torn black legs.  The dust and fluff on my clothing…



I want to sail over the rim of Time’s great crater and cradle the love of the Tiger.  I want to cherish visions, parties and still life.  The girl who was all, I neglected.  I’d love to taste those lips again.  The unbidden colours in my mind bring this waste land into sharp relief.  What do I want?  Why does it all change? 



I am black.  They think I’m morbid.  I will believe it, although, I try not to.  Perhaps I am in this Pit because of Them?



Attitudes and comments do not help.  They hope I am typical.  I am not.  But then one can only hope.  My world’s beginning to slip again; hazy faces and familiar places are blurring.  How?  Why?  Why does it all change?  Where did my soul go?



Later:



Stepping over white blankets and remembering golden eyes; cherubim smiling and a smell of dirt; the cries and shouts of young girls.  Not this hidden silence, locked in my room; the resplendent visions of old playthings that burn through my mind; younger days.



Forgetting the past comes as an awful blow.  I stare at my mirrored face, with its lines and sunken cheeks.  I’ve forgotten those loves, those playground souls that pierced my ears with voices now gone.  Childhood’s end destroys the mind with its dying love for friends we knew.  Let me out of this mortal shell, it hurts.  Let me go to St Peter while I am still young and pretty.  Let the aged wither and forget, not me.



Later:
At home.

‘Beyond Doubt’ – Gene Loves Jezebel

I’ve tried to tidy myself up a bit more.  Even tho’ I probably don’t look all that scruffy anyway. 


In the Common Room, I began reading Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, and it is excellent.  In Theatre Studies, a big identity crisis enveloped me as mentally, my past, present and future collided.  My mind collapsed and I found myself reeling back to early 1986 and my nice, smart suits and slacks and jackets, my glasses and flicked hair.  ‘Where did it all go?’ I wondered.  Looking at the clothes I was wearing, I cringed, repulsed; likewise, when I thought of my kind of music and the whole alternative scene.  I couldn’t halt my panic over this identity crisis.  I just wanted to be back at school and ‘normal’.  I thought about the gay sex abuse thing.  I lost all track of everything that was going on – and got into trouble for it.  I had to go and write it down.  As well as this, I thought Wanda was being sarcastic with me.



G   O   D  !



Every so often, I attempted to concentrate on the present, trying to realise that ‘THIS IS NOW!’, trying to accept all that I have become; but with no understanding of it.  I still do not know what is becoming of my thoughts.  Why am I like this lately?!

I put it all down to college pressure, my deep and hidden hatred of all my friends, my constantly resurrected love for BMW, the lack of a girlfriend, fancying Roger’s cousin and the fact that Flash and Dodo are so far away and will never know how much I care for them.  I can’t wait till February 14th.  If it doesn’t come soon I’ll just die.  I wonder if Flash’s got my letter yet?  I hope he writes back.



Later:

‘Shelter from the Storm’ – The Mission

Hannah (the 15-year-old girl from TRIANGLIA) rang.  She said there was no point in me meeting her tomorrow as she hasn’t a tape for me to record on.  Then she changed her mind and said she would come.  I really want to spend the day with her.  But all she’ll do is chat for a while and then go, I bet!  If she does stay with me, we’ll probably end up going around with Danny and his girlfriend.  How jolly, I don’t think!







[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’ section below) / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction. Cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context. Never forget: no man is an island. If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 13 July 2011 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]



NEXT TIME: ‘Child of January…’

Thursday, 29 January 1987

Sense of Doubt

Early this morning, after the President’s Ball, I went to Alison’s.  Slept over on her sofa. 

My No.1: ‘Deborah (TV ’77)’ – Marc Bolan

Today, at Tech, I began to feel appalled at myself and I don’t know why!



MY LIFE IS FUCK!
MY IMAGE IS SCRUFFY!
I SKIVE TOO MANY LESSONS!
I AM HATED BY MY PARENTS!
I DREAM TOO MUCH!
I HAVE NO MOTIVATION!
I ONLY LIVE TO SEE Flash (and Dodo) AGAIN!



I

AM

A

TWAT!


I feel a bit better now, but that’s probably thanks more to the letter Flash sent.  It’s great.  Why do I love him so much?  (Ho-ho-ho!)

HE IS NO LONGER A VIRGIN, BY THE WAY!

(worra perv!)



and so the day shits on.  And on…

Roll on, February 14th, and last forever, before I die.  Before I die.

The light flickers.  I’m staring at the sky in the hope of a saviour.  Why is it all wrong?  Why is it all wrong?  What did I do?  What can I say?  The last day I ever lived gets nearer every day.  The Man and his Dodo, and JEZ are so far away.  Welcome back, WINTERfood!



‘Forbidden Colours’ – Ryuichi Sakamoto

My favourite groups are really TRENDY (Sheenie!), but that’s the way it’s going this week.  Just for a change! 

So, who have I nearly conned into going to Nodrog’s aermarzing paertie?  Danny Smegwin, Sarah George (but I hope she doesn’t go now, cos she’s really awful when she’s with Jen – more about whom later), Nyall, Roger… That’s abart it.  Oh!  And Stan Flowers.  But I betcha none of ‘em go, just me!  All alone.  And I don’t care.  I don’t really want any of my so-called ‘mates’ to go.  I’d like to get away from ‘em, actually.  Just me and Flash and Dodo and our mutual friendship, that’s what I want.  Love.  Affection and togetherness.

‘AS LONG AS I GO, IT’S ALL RIGHT…’


I only want my ‘mates’ to go because Flash wants to meet ‘em!  Oh.  GOD!!!  Just listening to ‘Forbidden Colours’ reminds me…



I WAS GAY!

GOD!

I WAS GAY!



WAS I?

WAS I GAY?



I never talk about it, because… No.  I wasn’t gay.  I am not gay.  But I had gay sex.  When I was a kid, my cousin – our Jeff (a year younger than me) – convinced me that I should bum him, and that he should bum me.  I let him, because I was confused and scared and I knew no different.  For years, if he wasn’t fighting me or picking on me he was bumming me and I let him.  He was my cousin and because of that I loved him.  And I let him abuse me because I was scared and intrigued.  I wish it had never happened and I resent him for it. 

WHY?

A love-heart explodes, spraying spunk across my exercise books…

DO i CARE?!



Why should I?



Question is: who taught that poor sod that kids bumming other kids was a good idea?

‘Shooting Sun’ – Siouxsie and the Banshees



A word or two about Jenny:



I HATE HER.  SHE’S SO CHILDISH!  I MEAN, WHEREAS FLASH AND I ARE CREATIVELY CHILDISH, JEN IS DOWNRIGHT RIDICULOUS.  I HATE HER.  WHY DID I EVER GO OUT WITH HER!!!???



SILLY COW!



SHE’S A REAAIGHT FARKIN PYLE O’ SLYPPURI SHAAIYYIGHT.



SLAHRGE!













[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’ section below) / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction. Cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context. Never forget: no man is an island. If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 13 July 2011 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]







NEXT TIME: ‘Ghosts of yesterday…’

Wednesday, 28 January 1987

The President's Ball

‘The Yo-Yo Dine’ – Bill Nelson

I completed Flash’s letter and posted it.  The day was quite a blooerdierhy dooess.  Tech for the Stinky Shaight doesn’t change, does it?!

 

Eventually, college finished and Roger and I stayed behind waiting for the Tech Disco to start.  We went to Sainsbury’s and bought some raight sickly Macaroons.  They were gam, and we washed ‘em down wi’ a bottle o’ Cider!!!  SPLASH!  GULP!  PISS!  Then duh making-up starf was aerpliercahted to our fairces!  After meeting Nyall, we went to the Wenns pub.  A girl I don’t know – but I think she’s called Linda and she’s a mate of Roger’s cousin Wendy – bought us some drinks, and then we went to YE OLDE ‘PRESIDENT’S BALL’.  Savage!  I got in free thru’ some wheeling and dealing, and dat lass bought us some drink again. 


Disco was good.  Lots of alternative music.  Pissed up.  Didn’t pull owt this evening, but Roger asked his cousin Wendy if she’d dance a slow dance with me.  She said she would have done, but she’d drunk too much and felt sick!





[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’ section below) / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction.  Cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context.  Never forget: no man is an island.  If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 13 July  2011 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]



NEXT TIME: ‘Sense of doubt…’

Tuesday, 27 January 1987

Shitty-Shitty-Bonk-Bonk

‘Cosmic Dancer’ – T Rex

Bella lent me an excellent cassette today, featuring some amahzingly rare versions of Bolan tracks, the best of which are ‘Deborah’, ‘Scenes Of’, ‘London Boys’, ‘Ride A White Swan’ and ‘Celebrate Summer’.  It is absolutely excellent and also features David Bowie doing a bit of jamming with Bolan himself.



Chanced a copy of Smash Hits because The Mission and Siouxsie and the Banshees were in it, but all the other stuff was the usual trendy teen crap.  Even Black Type wasn’t as fun as it used to be, because I’m no longer involved with the ‘young’ groups it has a laugh at.

Today I had an awful attack of (probably awful) lyrics.  Two songs in about two minutes!  I think I’ve got some kind of spiritual ghost-writer or whatever it is.  I also started my letter to Flash, with some contributions from some of my ‘mates’.


Later:
And at home…

BETTY IS
A SLAG!

I HATE

THE BITCH!  DIE!!



She’s always fucking me about.  This time it’s about going to Flash’s.  Just as last year, I’ve got to help around the house to earn the train fayre.  Oh, well!

At the Angles Theatre we were supposed to be having a party, but Tina Montgomery decided we shouldn’t as there was an A-level class in the first floor studio.  Eventually, after much persuasion, she let us have a 45 minute party. 

COR!!!  WOAH! 



I drank as much as I could in that time, and, luckily, not many people had brought records, except Stan Flowers, Danny Oliver and me.  So the music mainly consisted of Bauhaus, Cure, Smiths, Japan, etc. 
As ‘Ghosts’ was played, I discovered that Hannah and I had a mutual interest: Sylvian, Sakamoto, Japan, etc.  She asked me to do her a tape, so I’ve arranged to meet her on Saturday in Wisbech.  I think she’s really sweet and gorgeous, y’know?!

Following the dead short ‘party’, we did some improvisation and ours was posthumously entitled Shitty-Shitty-Bonk-Bonk.  It was a doss.  And a raight layarffe!

CANNOT WAIT TILL SAYURTERDEAHAR!






[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’ section below) / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction.  Cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context.  Never forget: no man is an island.  If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 13 July  2011 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]



NEXT TIME: ‘The President’s Ball…’

Monday, 26 January 1987

Party Plans

‘Real Wild Child’ – Iggy Pop

Moonday. 

Tech again.  A skill day for all, yeah? 

 
I found out that I could be in deep shaight for skiving lessons if I don’t watch it.  Better become a bit more serious-minded, or I’ll get nowhere. 

Saw Bella.  We didn’t say much, but she’s in love with the album I lent her.

Well, the message got thru’ to Flash and he rang me this e’ening!  The party is definitely on, and I can take loads o’ people from Tech.  The Situation is also really taking off, and all his mates are anxious to meet me again.  People are learning my songs, off by heart.  WE’RE BIG!  ish!  I can’t wait for the party, and neither can Flash .  It’s going to be FERUCKIN GRÜVEH! Dodo’s best mate from Lincoln, is going and I’m going to invite everyone I can!  As well as all this, Flash and I are going to write each other as many letters as possible before the 14th.  That is also a bit of AR-YA-DÜ, dontcha think?


UP YOH, GRÖEBIENDONKKKE!

SNOW!
by Santa Claus



Snow falls on the ground
And everything goes white
I hate the bladdy fuckin Snow
And you’re all bloody Shite…



You wanka!  You nicked me
bloody reindeer…
I saw you screwin’ it!







[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’ section below) / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction.  Cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context.  Never forget: no man is an island.  If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 13 July  2011 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]



NEXT TIME: ‘Shitty-shitty-bonk-bonk…’

Sunday, 25 January 1987

He's Leaving Home (Again)

It is sunday I’m not really sure of the date – Excuse all this

[tear-stain]

shit writing but due to events that i shall explain later, I have just [tear-stain] been told to pack my suitcase and leave home by my parents

BASTARDS!

so I’m just packing

and I’m

going!



Later:
Later on

‘Rip-Off’ – T Rex

I suppose you want to know what happened, eh? 

Well, Freddie and I had a big argument and a fight over my family status and I was thrown out.  

Usual sort of thing, really. 

My ‘parents’ had a go about me not ‘pulling my weight’ in the house.  Today’s example being that I had stayed in bed till 1pm, whilst Freddie had done ‘my’ jobs.  Why didn’t he get me up, then?  He used to, when he still liked me!  Anyway, an argument ensued and Freddie and me got to braying each other before he told me to pack my bags. 

So I did! 

I intended going to Pontefract to escape the evil wrath of Blackberry Narrow, but Betty sort of told me I didn’t have to go.  And after much consideration, leaving didn’t make any real sense.  The whole thing blew over in a couple of hours.  So here I am.  At home, still.  Boring, eh?

Last of the Summer Wine was good tonight.

Today was a bit like 1985!

Later:

‘Joan of Arc’ – OMD


Aunty Liz rang tonight and apparently Vicky (my cousin) has been invited to Flash’s party on the 14th of Feb.  I asked Vicky to tell Dodo (as they sit together in English, or something) to tell Flash to ring me. 




[Images subject to control of individual Copyright Holders including works originated by Elton Townend Jones, but excluding any images or design attributed to ‘The Situation’ which are copyright of The Situation (see specific acknowledgements in the ‘Thanks to…’ section below) / Based on true events and designed as a study of parochial British cultural and emotional life in the late 20th century, this blog is a work of fiction.  Cultural icons excluded, all characters and incidents featured are entirely fictional / This blog is non-profit; all video clips are used for illustrative purposes and always come from YouTube / No copyright infringement is intended – just trying to get things into context.  Never forget: no man is an island.  If you think anything I’ve used is damaging you in any way, please comment and immediate action will be taken to minimise offence / This notice was amended on 13 July  2011 and is intended to cover this and all posts on www.25yearstoolate.blogspot.com that precede it]



NEXT TIME: ‘Party plans…’