street drinker

I’m kind of insecure. I’m a bit of a twat really. I can’t help it – I do try to hold myself back but it doesn’t really make any difference. I know I come across as a bit of a twat. I’m kind of fickle, kind of insincere and needy. When I’m with people who are into football I make out that I’m a big footy fan. Or at least I try to make out that I’m a big footy fan – I’m not actually that great at pulling it off, now that I come to mention it. When I’m with people who are into a particular band or pop artist, like Rod Stewart or Beyonce, then I try to make out that I’m like the number one fan, that I’ve been to all of their concerts. Like I followed them on their Japan tour or whatever and saw them in Tokyo five times. I make a real twat of myself, basically. I make a very obvious twat of myself and people kind of see me coming…


So really when I say that I go around hanging around with people and making out that I’m into whatever they’re into I’m lying. I’m lying because when it comes down to it I can’t find anyone to hang around with. I don’t actually stand a chance of ever getting to hand out with anyone because I’m such a twat. So recently I’ve been hanging around in Erye Square with a few homeless guys and street drinkers trying to make out that I’m homeless, and that I’m a big drinker. I talk about the hostels and the Fairgreen and what the story is there and stuff like that. I let on that I’m well into drinking, that I’m a real serious drinking man, which is ridiculous because the truth is I can’t drink anything, not even the smallest amount. I can’t hold any amount of drink and to tell the truth I hate the bloody stuff so the whole thing is just plain stupid. But I carry on trying to make out that I’m like they are, trying to prove my street cred. Now maybe it’s wrong of me to be talking about street cred with regard to being an alcoholic or being a homeless guy. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about it this way. But to me these guys really do have genuine street cred because they really are what they say they are, not that they actually say it of course. They are the real thing, if you know what I mean. Like Coke is. They can talk about the stuff that happens to them and the problems that come along with being homeless or alcoholic in a confident and knowledgeable way and everyone knows that they aren’t just making it up. Unlike me. To me that is street cred. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I recognize this as an actual world that I’d like to be part of, instead of being the perennial onlooker, the perennial bystander. I’d like to gain acceptance in the group and be as easy in it as they all are. I’d like to gain acceptance in any world, to be honest, I don’t care how crappy it is. All worlds look good to me…


But the point of this story is that I know it’s all ridiculous. I mean, there’s no way on earth I looked anything like a homeless person. I very obviously wasn’t. I didn’t have the remotest chance of fooling anyone and so all that happens to me is that I come across as being weird. I make a total twat of myself and that doesn’t feel very nice. I’m just insecure though – I can’t help myself. I’m at it straightaway whenever I meet someone – trying to suss out what sort of person they are and then making out that I’m that sort of person too, trying to work out what kind of a world they come from and then letting on that I belong to that world But that’s not how it works, as I know very well. If you really do belong to a particular world you don’t go around saying that you do. You don’t go around trying to prove your credentials. That immediately proves to everyone that you’re a phoney! You might as well have a neon sign over your head blinking on and off announcing to the world that you’re a ringer. Like a particularly inept undercover drug-squad man who is desperately trying to make out that he’s hip, that he’s cool, that he’s a real sound head when anyone can see that he’s a flat-foot.


What I’m trying to say is that when you belong to a particular world you don’t even know that you do. You don’t go around thinking to yourself “I belong to such-and-such a world.” You take it totally for granted. You never question it and neither does anyone else. It comes naturally to you. Nothing comes natural to me – I’m the perennial onlooker, the perennial outsider – like Colin Wilson says. And I know all of this very well. I know very well that I’m coming at this all wrong, that I’m making a total twat of myself, but I just can’t help myself. I try to reign myself in, to hold back, to remain aloof, but I just can’t help it….


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