a few days ago i had a sudden attack of inspiration. it's not the sort of thing you can take a tablet for and hope that it will go away. they don't go when you have a mind like a hamster wheel and things go round and round in your mind. you see things as if they are on a big screen in your head, stolen conversations with people you'll never know, situations that you will never be in, places you can only dream of and all in your mind.
anyway i had this idea f a concept blog of sorts a work of fiction if you will. great idea something that i could do and hopefully people if they ever found it would enjoy. so blog was set up i nearly managed to do it all myself even the techy stuff that usually leaves me ranting and barking orders at the resident man. ok so he tweaked it so it looked nice and i sat as far away from the screen as possible and told him not to explain to me what he was doing, i didnt want to know i just wanted it done.So it was done and it has sat there bare till now.
So whats stopping me now ? i havent written anything for months. In fact i went as far as saying that i would never write again. Apparently blogging isnt writing so i have been told so this doesn't count. but for days now i have had something going round and round in my head a great idea for something. How do i know it's a great idea ? rule of thumb if it's still there in the morning and it doesnt leave your head and you keep thinking about it then it's a good idea. I could see it all so clearly. I have the first paragraph in my mind exactly and it's been there all week near enough.
i brought a brand new posh notebook, and found a posh writing pen well posh to my standards anyway and this afternoon i had a few hours when there was no one around so i thought now was the time. get something written and then blog it and after that hide under the desk and wait for someone to tell you how crap it is. i didnt have to hide though.
as soon as i started to write anything down it looked wrong, it sounded wrong. oh christ i thought i'm out of practice at the writing thing. but i kept going. in fact i have thought of nothing else all evening. i even went away and then came back to it, picked up the pen and had another go. it's a great idea , but it's wrong. i have taken a great concept and arsed it up.
do self doubt sets in. maybe i should never have picked up that pen, spent money on that notebook. maybe i should have kept those thoughts in my head where i could see this story unfold, maybe it's better off there. so now i am looking at the things i have written and i am wondering if i have to do the unthinkable and tear the pages out and throw them away. i have never ever done that before. i don't rewrite i tweak. i never throw anything away till now. what if i have lost what little touch i had. had my time past ? should i just sit quietly at my desk and watch while others who are far more capable than i do the only thing that has driven me for 35 years. writing is all i ever wanted to do and now i am wondering if i actually can. or am i just a day dreamer with a multicolor imagination ?
Saturday, 10 March 2012
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
the i'm fine myth
it's been a while i am more grumpy than usual. i have a mind that won't stop and a body that won't start. i am avoiding people as much as i can, but it's hard when you don't live by yourself. times like this i wish i did although it's probably not the healthiest thing to be doing. any how enough of that, let's concentrate on todays lesson.
imagine this your walking down the street you see someone you havent seen for a while you ask them how they are. what do they say ?
"I'm fine "
those two little words signify one of the biggest planetary lies available. People are never just "fine" . Fine is one of those magnolia words used when you can't think of anything to say or you don't want to get into a conversation. Saying your fine is like saying something is nice or someone is nice. It's a double edged insult , it's bordering on boring, it's the thing you say when you can't think of a better word to describe how things are. It's a lie a mythical word for a mythical frame of mind. it's like sudden brain death just hit your ability for descriptive verse.
saying all of that though it can also be used when you don't want to burden people with your life. You know they have other things going on and when they ask you " i'm fine " is a way of you acknowledging the fact that they care but also that they have enough going on.
So don't ask me how i am. i may have to go magnolia on your arse ( said in best american typing accent ) and tell you that,
"I'm fine ."
imagine this your walking down the street you see someone you havent seen for a while you ask them how they are. what do they say ?
"I'm fine "
those two little words signify one of the biggest planetary lies available. People are never just "fine" . Fine is one of those magnolia words used when you can't think of anything to say or you don't want to get into a conversation. Saying your fine is like saying something is nice or someone is nice. It's a double edged insult , it's bordering on boring, it's the thing you say when you can't think of a better word to describe how things are. It's a lie a mythical word for a mythical frame of mind. it's like sudden brain death just hit your ability for descriptive verse.
saying all of that though it can also be used when you don't want to burden people with your life. You know they have other things going on and when they ask you " i'm fine " is a way of you acknowledging the fact that they care but also that they have enough going on.
So don't ask me how i am. i may have to go magnolia on your arse ( said in best american typing accent ) and tell you that,
"I'm fine ."
Saturday, 4 February 2012
poem Don't look for me
Don't look for me
when sumer comes
along the lanes where we once walked.
Don't look for me
along the shores
where waves roll and tears fall
along the cliff tops where we stood
hands held wind blowing through our hair.
Don't wait for me
as clocks tick
marking time gone by.
Don't reach for me
among your stolen memories
in the dust covered box's of your mind.
Don't look for me
along the streets of passers by.
I am but a day dream
fleeting in your mind .
A shadow of another time.
Don't look for me.
when sumer comes
along the lanes where we once walked.
Don't look for me
along the shores
where waves roll and tears fall
along the cliff tops where we stood
hands held wind blowing through our hair.
Don't wait for me
as clocks tick
marking time gone by.
Don't reach for me
among your stolen memories
in the dust covered box's of your mind.
Don't look for me
along the streets of passers by.
I am but a day dream
fleeting in your mind .
A shadow of another time.
Don't look for me.
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
its tuesday i think it may be snowing and heres the blog
last night i wrote my obituary . today it took me half an hour to find the dictionary to spell the damn word . the dictionary was lodged under a pile of notebooks undone things bills three cd's and two place matts all balanced on the corner of my desk on top of the printer that only works when it wants to.
when i say i wrote it well i constructed it in my head how i wanted it to sound, how i would like people to remember me. biggest thing that came out of it is that the avi picture you see isnt me anymore. no i havent grown another head or anything too drastic it's just not me not now. i suppose people remember what they want to and forget the bits they dont. you cant tell people what to think or how to feel or what to remember they just will do whatever they want to. id rather be forgotten, just slide me under the radar and leave me there.
anywho my toes are numb i am wearing the big shoes with the holes in them as opposed to the boots that flat and have holes in them and bedsocks and i have to go and get a small child soon and shop . i dont want to i want to go back to bed and disappear but i wont. normal face on for the masses and off we go. it may snow i may get run over by a bus . my underwear is awful saggy and doesnt match i dont care.
someone remind me i need to get milk and fill the gas meter before the whole of pants palace dies of the cold.
when i say i wrote it well i constructed it in my head how i wanted it to sound, how i would like people to remember me. biggest thing that came out of it is that the avi picture you see isnt me anymore. no i havent grown another head or anything too drastic it's just not me not now. i suppose people remember what they want to and forget the bits they dont. you cant tell people what to think or how to feel or what to remember they just will do whatever they want to. id rather be forgotten, just slide me under the radar and leave me there.
anywho my toes are numb i am wearing the big shoes with the holes in them as opposed to the boots that flat and have holes in them and bedsocks and i have to go and get a small child soon and shop . i dont want to i want to go back to bed and disappear but i wont. normal face on for the masses and off we go. it may snow i may get run over by a bus . my underwear is awful saggy and doesnt match i dont care.
someone remind me i need to get milk and fill the gas meter before the whole of pants palace dies of the cold.
Monday, 30 January 2012
humans bloody humans
today had been filled with rude sighing smelly people in post office ques and idiots who think the world revolves around them.
When your not exactly feeling on top of the world you don't need any of that. you don't want to have to leave your house with unwashed hair and a beany hat stuck on your head looking like a tramp high on steroids, to do a school run you shouldnt have to do. You dont want to be stuck in the worlds longest rudest smelliest post office Que where everyone has three sacks of parcels to send recorded delivery and you are on a time limit. You don't want to be stood in that Que with a rising tide of stress making its appearance and some bloody woman on your left hand side sucking their teeth and attempting to push in front of you. when you do look at them they glare at you square their shoulders and suck their teeth even louder right into your inner ear drum. right then and there you realize that if they do Que jump you will just leave the shop and probably cry all the way to the bus stop. one more thing to be anxious about. Luckily said woman didnt jump in front of you and you exit the shop/post office relatively unscathed.
Then you get to the school by this time you need a wee the last coffee that you drank before exiting the safety of your home has made its way to your bladder and is now tap dancing across it.your feet are numb even though you have on bed socks and not actual socks and you have to wait for a small person because their father who is also at the school but in a meeting with several teachers wont get him for what ever reason. small child comes out knows his father is at the school and decides to wait at the office for him. you on the other hand sit outside on a wall getting piles and really cold and annoyed. you could go and wait in the warm most people would but you dont want to talk to anyone answer any bloody questions or get any funny looks from the teachers. so you sit outside and get funny looks from the other parents and the caretaker instead. you sit there for forty five minutes and just as your beginning to feel a bit like a child sex offender the small one and its father appear. child takes one look at you and decides that he will go home with his dad today. you go home on the bus . when i say on the bus its not one but two buses. by the time you get home you dont ever want to talk to anyone or be nice to anyone again you want to eat a shed load of food and die on the sofa.
the moral of this story is that there isnt a moral. morals actually died a death years ago when people stopped thinking about others and came to the way of thinking that the world revolves around them. people need to think a bit sometimes we are standing on the same bloody planet. what we are not doing is balancing on a planet that is at this moment in time revolving around someones head although today is feels like some people think that the world revolves around them.. they will learn and the ones that dont will grow up very disliked by others .
When your not exactly feeling on top of the world you don't need any of that. you don't want to have to leave your house with unwashed hair and a beany hat stuck on your head looking like a tramp high on steroids, to do a school run you shouldnt have to do. You dont want to be stuck in the worlds longest rudest smelliest post office Que where everyone has three sacks of parcels to send recorded delivery and you are on a time limit. You don't want to be stood in that Que with a rising tide of stress making its appearance and some bloody woman on your left hand side sucking their teeth and attempting to push in front of you. when you do look at them they glare at you square their shoulders and suck their teeth even louder right into your inner ear drum. right then and there you realize that if they do Que jump you will just leave the shop and probably cry all the way to the bus stop. one more thing to be anxious about. Luckily said woman didnt jump in front of you and you exit the shop/post office relatively unscathed.
Then you get to the school by this time you need a wee the last coffee that you drank before exiting the safety of your home has made its way to your bladder and is now tap dancing across it.your feet are numb even though you have on bed socks and not actual socks and you have to wait for a small person because their father who is also at the school but in a meeting with several teachers wont get him for what ever reason. small child comes out knows his father is at the school and decides to wait at the office for him. you on the other hand sit outside on a wall getting piles and really cold and annoyed. you could go and wait in the warm most people would but you dont want to talk to anyone answer any bloody questions or get any funny looks from the teachers. so you sit outside and get funny looks from the other parents and the caretaker instead. you sit there for forty five minutes and just as your beginning to feel a bit like a child sex offender the small one and its father appear. child takes one look at you and decides that he will go home with his dad today. you go home on the bus . when i say on the bus its not one but two buses. by the time you get home you dont ever want to talk to anyone or be nice to anyone again you want to eat a shed load of food and die on the sofa.
the moral of this story is that there isnt a moral. morals actually died a death years ago when people stopped thinking about others and came to the way of thinking that the world revolves around them. people need to think a bit sometimes we are standing on the same bloody planet. what we are not doing is balancing on a planet that is at this moment in time revolving around someones head although today is feels like some people think that the world revolves around them.. they will learn and the ones that dont will grow up very disliked by others .
Sunday, 29 January 2012
not being well but looking normal
yesterday was not a good day . yesterday all i seemed to do was shake shout and want to cry . but trying to appear normal i still cooked washed clothes and cleaned a bathroom as you normal people do .
on the outside i was just having one of those days. on the inside i was pulling chunks of my hair out screaming and running around in circles like a hamster on a wheel getting nowhere wanting to run away. funny how you can do all of that in your mind while sitting totally still isnt it.
today isnt much better. without realizing i have managed to pluck half an eyebrow bald, tried to make tea in the bowl i put the dead teabags into and made porridge that looked like well it wasn't porridge put it this way. i just about managed to keep the urge to cut chunks out of my hair to a bare minimum but i pulled a few bits out so now my air looks like frizzy crap instead of just plain crap.
remembering the phone bill was due to be paid i checked the bill, misread two yes two calenders and then paniced as i thought i hadnt paid it in over a month. it's due tomorrow and im still shaking over that one. i have also scratched a scab over my eye my rubbing my skin off.
i feel like my head is about to explode. it wont but it feels like it will. i dont feel safe. i dont feel in control any more i cant remember even how to pay things when they are due simple stuff like that. i keep thinking that people are going to come and take everything away. so in my mind i am planning ahead where i can hide things so they dont take them away.
there is an upside to this mind you. nothing has grown a head yet nothing has started moving. last time furniture grew heads and the floor started moving and changing colour on its own. so it's not that bad yet.
the clock is ticking. i just wonder how long it will be before i snap completely and if anyone will notice when i do.
on the outside i was just having one of those days. on the inside i was pulling chunks of my hair out screaming and running around in circles like a hamster on a wheel getting nowhere wanting to run away. funny how you can do all of that in your mind while sitting totally still isnt it.
today isnt much better. without realizing i have managed to pluck half an eyebrow bald, tried to make tea in the bowl i put the dead teabags into and made porridge that looked like well it wasn't porridge put it this way. i just about managed to keep the urge to cut chunks out of my hair to a bare minimum but i pulled a few bits out so now my air looks like frizzy crap instead of just plain crap.
remembering the phone bill was due to be paid i checked the bill, misread two yes two calenders and then paniced as i thought i hadnt paid it in over a month. it's due tomorrow and im still shaking over that one. i have also scratched a scab over my eye my rubbing my skin off.
i feel like my head is about to explode. it wont but it feels like it will. i dont feel safe. i dont feel in control any more i cant remember even how to pay things when they are due simple stuff like that. i keep thinking that people are going to come and take everything away. so in my mind i am planning ahead where i can hide things so they dont take them away.
there is an upside to this mind you. nothing has grown a head yet nothing has started moving. last time furniture grew heads and the floor started moving and changing colour on its own. so it's not that bad yet.
the clock is ticking. i just wonder how long it will be before i snap completely and if anyone will notice when i do.
Friday, 20 January 2012
on a lighter note stupid poetry a la pants
some days will kick you up the bum
all you can do is ho and hum
and swear a bit
or kick a door
and wonder what this life is for
you've burnt the toast
and blocked the loo
the world has got it in for you
the funny bone just isn't fun
you've tripped and landed on your bum
you want to cry
and scream and swear
no clothes that fit
nothing to wear
so take a breath
maybe one more
and think of things worth fighting for
have a tea
sing out of tune
who cares it's just you in the room
you'll look a tit
feel out of place
hey welcome to the human race
we're all like that
don't feel a pratt
some days just suck
don't give a fuck
there is always tomorrow
all you can do is ho and hum
and swear a bit
or kick a door
and wonder what this life is for
you've burnt the toast
and blocked the loo
the world has got it in for you
the funny bone just isn't fun
you've tripped and landed on your bum
you want to cry
and scream and swear
no clothes that fit
nothing to wear
so take a breath
maybe one more
and think of things worth fighting for
have a tea
sing out of tune
who cares it's just you in the room
you'll look a tit
feel out of place
hey welcome to the human race
we're all like that
don't feel a pratt
some days just suck
don't give a fuck
there is always tomorrow
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