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“  City of Birth

Much of the place is now just a flourish of the mind. Rivers and streets have altered position and where you might follow one in real life and come out at its proper exit, in my mind it turns about and you arrive elsewhere altogether. The whole city is a fading dream, less and less factual as the months wear on.

Except the truth is that I do not strive to remember, the death of it suits me. Rather than not leaving me at all, gradually is an accepted evil. However I lament that it could not have been torn away in one swipe. I wish the whole place burnt away, its ash caught and carried off by a wind of forgetfulness. I wish nothing ill on the inhabitants of that city in its real and present form, but its form in my heart is a solid lump that runs to the throat if I consider it for too long. I mean it not to remind me of my own failures.

In truth the city is merely the scapegoat for my own shortcomings, for my own mistakes. It is a laden creature, cast out and laboring under the burden of blame for injuries I’ve suffered. The city did nothing directly, supplant me and my life to another with the same set of circumstances and I’d be sure of similar results. The same progression of cruelty, neglect and eventual isolation. The same reasons for the breakdown of relationships with almost everyone. My own ego and lack of humility. My envy of other people’s talents and embarrassment at my own lack of courage.

No, I cannot blame a city for what was my own doing. The truth is that I lost my sight, my judgement clouded. Or, more rightly, my vision was distorted by a thin film over the eyes. An idea of how the world looked, except that in that way of seeing I could not perceive the slow corruption of my life. Each time I rallied myself and thrust forward with my creative projects, I was in fact just shuttling along in a blinkered, eager rush. I shut out the distraction of friends and lovers. Then, when I’d collapsed into the sense of futility that seems to run through me like a core, I was surprised that they’d moved on to better things.

It is a great and painful process for a man to learn of his own failings. More-often he might bury the facts under a layer of disbelief. Or else under the debris of the facts themselves; as he picks each apart with lies and self-justification. Delusion is the tonic for most things.

Myself, I’m no less the fool. Even knowing what I do I cannot bring myself to believe I was to fault. I too ignore these things and move on with what I do agree to take with me. So from these lessons comes the genesis of a new self. I do not wish to remember my sins, though I will learn from them. It is hypocritical indeed to ignore the legitimacy one’s crimes and yet still take wisdom from them; though to have the position reversed would be far worse an error.   “

—-

The above is the beginning of the novel I was speaking of, not too long ago. The tale of my life. A way to purge myself of the old crimes and explain how things progressed and perhaps absolve myself slightly through showing how I’ve bettered myself. It will however be ‘warts and all’, I hope – if I have courage enough to paint myself in my true (past) monstrous form. All names altered, no great revelations about the other people involved. I will stay in the bounds of my own head, the things that I saw and thought – I will not attempt to second guess the people around me, nor anything of their opinions of me at that time. What I do not want it to be, is a way of explaining away the evil I have done, but rather to seek to hold onto it – lest I forget – and remind myself of how far I have come so that I do not retrace the same steps. I also don’t want it to hurt anyone from the past, hence the only alterations will be to the unsavory portions of lives of others and not to my own life, wherever possible.

The NaNoWriMo novel is far more accomplished, though I do wish to return to the previous novel soon. I’m a little behind in terms of the monthly goal – though it has proven itself as necessary and so I will be moving forward with it. I’m not all too bothered about the NaNo win because NaNo has been a bit of a joke as far as I’m concerned. There’s been no proper management or communication with those involved, so the community fun was sucked dry long ago. I’m just glad that I’ve got a wonderful manuscript out of it and I can break on through with the knowledge that I can write about 2,000 words a day with very little hassle, so long may it continue. Fuck NaNo.

Nevermind.

I’m loving quite a few bands at the moment.

1) The Bicycle Thieves

2) Cocoon (‘Hey Ya’, ‘I don’t give a shit’)

3) Soko (‘I’ll kill her’)

4) The Thermals (‘Now we can see’)

5) Fresh body shop (‘My artificial sun‘)

And in terms of poetry?

1) Derek Walcott (‘Elsewhere’, ‘For Adrian’)

And I’m reading…

1) 2666 by Roberto Bolano

2) Omeros by Derek Walcott

3) The Book of Shadows Don Paterson

4) Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels (again)

In other news. I’ve made a promise with myself to write a poem, take a roll of photos (34 photos), make a short film and read a book every week from now on.

Further updates will follow.

Filed under: Competition, Depression, Existence, Future, Poetry, Reality, Strangers, Youth, about me, books, genius, music, news, novel, poem, poet, prose, published, the novel, undervalued, writing, writing the novel , art, desire for change, escape, Happy, idea, liverpool, novel, poem, prose, quest, sustenance, writing

a break?

I’m going to take a break from my novel to write this. I’m doing well with the NaNoWriMo challenge, I’m on target for my 100,000 word personal target, so I’m more than able to hit the standard 50,000 word mark. I’m not stressing too much about it because I know that whatever I get out of it is something in the right direction.

At least I’m putting pen to paper with an aim in mind and I can stick at it. In the past I’ve been distracted by lots of things, but this time I have a focus that I can really only put down to maturity and real determination.

It is a while since I’ve blogged and I feel like I need to, to get some stuff out.

I got a job! I’m working at Waterstones and I have met new friends and everything on that side of things is great! I’m pretty good at selling books and helping people out. I’m very well read, so whenever people come to the till and ask about something I’m like… ‘oh you mean X, sure – just follow me’ or I’m like ‘I’ve read that actually, can I recommend this?’ Its lovely to have a job where being who you are really makes you good at it.

I’ve more calmness now, my character has altered and I’m able to see it clearly now for one particular reason.

I’ve quit my medication, both the fluoxetine and the sleeping pills.

I’m in a better place, so I don’t need them to keep me still anymore.

I’m starting to get back some of the old feelings again, but that makes me feel more like myself. There is the old nostalgic sense of a lost life and a part of myself that has fallen away. That had been hidden from me by the pills, they sort of alter you into a more carefree and less concerned creature. That’s not me, I know who I am and it is okay for me to dwell slightly. It is where I get a lot of my strength from.

I’m more focused, have more regard for people. I’ve done well. It’s almost like enlightenment, but not as sudden or significant really.

I’m getting back into the swing of being okay with being me again.

And just in time for new year.

Filed under: Friends, Happy, Training, about me, anxiety, hopes, influences, work, writing, writing the novel

My Hour as Art: The calculations of a Soft Machine.

One must always bare in mind the often overlooked power of a single thoughtful person. Though we are often unaware of the impact we can potentially make, we must attempt to prepare ourselves. This thought was brought to me from my recent experience as a plinther. That is, being a lucky participant in One and Other, Antony Gormley’s new art installation.

Being up on the Forth Plinth in Trafalgar Square was one of the most unprepared moments of my life. It was like approaching one of the seven wonders, or the peak of a mountain; there is simply no way of knowing how you will react.

When confronted by such opportunities, a more refined soul might have gone up with a speech prepared. I might have preached, screamed, recited or otherwise constructed some form of sentiment that would have undoubtedly taken the moment away from me. I might well have run for an hour like a robot, speaking words that I’d pawed over for weeks in advance. Not so for the willful creature that I am.

Instead I listened a little too intently to a small voice from within that said ‘you need only ‘be’!’ I decided to go up, no props, no gimmicks – just a lone soft machine, held aloft for an hour.

I would say even now, that was/is enough.

Art itself (for the most part) cannot alter its form to better suit the audience before it. Once it is produced it is cast in that form. The painting cannot gain another few brushstrokes, to add more colour here or focus the eye there, just because the person seeing it would find it easier to understand. It can but assume a lasting posture and only stand by and weather the praise and criticism it receives with equal solemnity.

I went up there to ask the world questions more directly than most art does, to be a mirror that might allow people to see something of themselves whilst speaking a language they themselves spoke in. I went up there to do what art does, not interact with the audience around me, but to get the audience to engage with itself.

The truth is we make art to remind us of what will always remain important. We don’t make it as a target for our insults, or produce it so that it will locked away. We want it to be shown to an audience, to tell a story, to make a point, to request more of ourselves than is polite to ask in person. We use art to crack open the human spirit.

Of course I am referring to art as generalized art, that of the gallery displays (paintings primarily, or perhaps music also, certainly the photograph), rather than the more innovative methods that artists now engage in. I know full well that art does not stick to its definitions, by definition it is endlessly re-educating us of limitless features.

So, I got up on that stone pillar with the idea that I’d more clearly do what art does. So that I might connect more directly with people and get the message across. My mission was to Raise Awareness for Awareness. I wanted people simply to start asking themselves questions.

Back to the experience itself, once up there I lost my words and almost my balance.

We cannot know our qualities until we have been tested to our limit. So all I could comfortably expect of myself was that I would continue to breathe and that my heart would beat (albeit madly).

When I got up there I had no idea that I would lose much of myself to nerves. There is a lot to be said for the written language (and much has been); however, I more admire anyone who can stand to speak and explain their message with clarity. I do not have the ability to speak easily in public, though I do now intend to improve.

In any case I am happy that, with that small sight of my limits, I was inspired.

I’ve come off the plinth with a renewed acknowledgment of myself, but also of the influence and inspiration I have to offer. I met and spoke with many people and the reactions have been incredible.

People do want to talk, people do want to learn why things are the way they are. Even those who initially became hostile in the face of art, grew later (after conversation/explanation) to understand. They too added their own voice and perspective to the endeavor.

I may have been alone, an example of a young man with a lot (perhaps too much) on his mind; but no-one was unworthy of a place there on that plinth and those who asked questions took their place alongside me.

Now uniquely aware of how much impact a single soft machine can make when placed in the right location. My plan is to go on putting myself in challenging places, to do what I think is good and right and just. To ignore the voices that want me down on their level and to use my own to lift others out of the flood of indifference.

I’ve shaken a dozen hands, hugged people who were strangers, dealt with the irrepressible masses and I have come out of the experience; not better, nor worse, but different.

Filed under: Existence, Future, Happy, Lonely, Love, Sad, Strangers, about me, anxiety, art, hopes, influences, other people's lives, solitary , 4th plinth, afternoon, art, desire for change, escape, Happy, idea, interviews, liverpool, one and other, oneandother, photography, quest, sorry, stylized, sustenance, twitter, writing

oneward and upward

Okay. RIght. Testing, testing. Hope this is working.

It is.

Right.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to this whole One and Other thing. I’ve done my smart thinking now, I’m over that. I’ve reasoned out things and I think I’m going to be okay. Just going to get up there, pose my ideas and then breathe it all in.

Been having a few emotional tantrums recently – my heart all a flutter.. ex-cetera … It all comes from me putting too much stock in this thing.

The truth is, I don’t need to get it ‘right’ or do anything to ‘please’ anyone. I’m smarter than needing to take my level from other people’s figures.

I wrote a little piece last night for my novel – “Feel bitter, feel like you want to hit me; but don’t deny the fact we made each other pretty happy. In the time we had.”

That’s what all this means, it is getting up there and just saying ‘This is me. What are you?

I am the art that can ask questions of itself, as much as of the observer. Now that is a revolution!

This morning I got a call from a mental health team member and they have invited me over to get checked over on Wednesday. I’m going to go along and tell them everything. I will write a little something for them first. A little history maybe. Something to explain better than I might be able to.

Oneward and upwards with things.

Filed under: Competition, Day-to-day, Depression, Existence, Family, Friends, Future, Happy, Re-Genesis, Reality, Sad, Training, about me, anxiety, connection, genius, genus, hopes, influences, news, novel, other people's lives, sermon, solitary, writing, writing the novel , 4th plinth, art, desire for change, escape, greet, Happy, heart, idea, london, mental health, novel, one and other, oneandother, quest, questions, revolution, truth, twitter, writing

One and Other: All Just Soft Machines

One and Other: All Just Soft Machines.

www.askyourselfaquestion.blogspot.com

There is a certain weight applied to the spirit when one engages deeply with the process of consideration and analytics. There are questions that will send you mad with wondering. Questions you will waste away trying to answer, so I’ve made a loop-hole for myself. A safety rope of sorts.

‘The answer never matters as much as that you asked the question.’ (I hope I’m quoted for saying that, though I’m sure it is an unoriginal sentiment.)

That is my attempt to save my sanity. That is the line that will console me, through the darkest moments of my journey.

That is what this whole Raising Awareness for Awareness idea is all about. It is about getting people merely to consider the question, if only for a moment, of who and what they are. It is what Gormley is asking us 2,400 to do. It is the question that many will have asked and many will have simply bypassed and said ‘what can I get up there and do!’ I’m not convinced it is a point of ‘doing’, but of ‘being’. I am still more intent that the aim of this whole thing is to ‘ask’.

I hope people will say – ‘What am I?’ Who am I?‘ ‘Hey, what is my politics?’ ‘How do I feel about justice/death/religion/charity/piety/immorality/sexuality?’

In some it will prompt the asking of more questions, in others it will awaken the certainty that they do not wish to ask anything further of themselves.

The safety rope will hold me back from being lost in questioning for its own, energy-draining, sake. I will keep my focus on the idea that I am struggling forward, but forever secured by my belief in my chief aim. To tone my mind, like any other muscle. One step toward being fit in mind, body and human spirit.

My ‘loop-hole’, as I put it, isn’t to wriggle free from the responsibility that comes from my starting this quest. I will not shirk away from the fact that there will be people who will reach out for an answer and gather up some objectionable theories. There will always be people who think their truth must be imposed and world should suffer its implementation. However, I feel knowledge of ourselves will lead to knowledge of a great many things. I believe that with knowledge and consideration comes empathy; and with that, unity. We are One and we are Other.

The answers may differ, but the soft machine that calculates is always of the same construction; mind, body and human spirit (or whatever you call it).

@jensenwilder

Jensenwilder@gmail.com

Filed under: Depression, Existence, Reality, about me, books, genius, genus, influences , desire for change, escape, idea, oneandother, prose, quest, writing

what is the point of change?

What is the point of change? Is it for yourself? Or for others?
At what point do we change? When we learn our lessons? Or when we act on them?

I’m growing. As ever, I’ve been reflecting on self again, but in way of a preface to this post I will say something.

I believe, or am coming to believe, that a major reason for my ongoing difficulty lies in my inability to resolve myself to myself. I have been brainwashed by a religion, and by relationships I have had, into thinking that I care only for myself and no one else. That to do what is best for you is to act out of self-interest and that is inherently a bad road to take. This is a hard thing to wriggle free from. However I think I have reasoned toward an explanation.

I am aware of myself and my impact on the world. That does not make me egotistical. I am not self-interested as much as I am interested in myself and what I am. I am capable of love and adoration for people around me. I close myself off to those around me so that I do not infect them with my sadness. That is a selfless move. I am normal.

So many things are driving my change. As ever the continued focus is self-development, whether I should consider myself egotistical, or if I am not unreasonable to assume that I must be aware of myself. Is it really egotism or just an important self-awareness?

To that end I’ve started a new blog askyourselfaquestion in which I will pipe my enquiries and ask questions and see through the investigation.

Very quickly here I will explain two main inspirations. The first being Socrates ideas. 

Socrates theory is that the soul is ‘mutilated by wrong actions and benefited by right ones.’ He means those actions undertaken by the self, rather than those undertaken by others.

One striking thing about it is that it doesn’t appeal to the altruistic, but rather to the germ of self-interest.

His idea cannot be realized by the greedy and self-interested alone; but instead putting self-improvement above all other motive. Neither does this unusual ethics rest on any hope of heavenly reward or the fear of its opposite conclusion.

The benefits of virtue are reaped more or less immediately, for ‘to live well means the same thing as to live honorably’ and ‘the just [man] is happy and the unjust miserable.’

Tough idea to swallow. It doesn’t hold water in the way you think. He is highlighting the idea of the health of the soul being paramount, above the importance of the body.

His idea is of practicing moderation to secure a future of good health, instead of hedonism to secure a few more immediate ones.

This strikes me and asks fundamental questions of me. Namely my own motivation of change – do I act solely for myself? Or does it bring a greater good? By being more aware of myself and my impact on the world, will that make me more sympathetic to others. I think it has so far. I feel a lot more in tune with things by being more comparative in my reasoning.

The next point is to talk about how I will develop myself. I think it is not nearly enough to tone one part of the self. So… Frank Harris puts it like this.

I made up my mind to train my will by exercise as I would train a muscle, and each day I proposed to myself a new test. For example, I liked potatoes, so I resolved not to eat one for a week, or again I foreswore coffee that I loved for a month, and I was careful to keep to my determination.

Celui qui vuet, celui-là peut: ‘He who wills, can.”

To explain this in its effect on me is to say, ‘I have realised pretty late that I need not punish myself for not being immediately able to control myself. I need to train myself to be slowly and accumulatively better.’


So I’ve set myself the aim of exercising my mind first, as it is the part of me that is most refined to this point. Hopefully the change and development will be reward enough to insist that I continue with my project. Next will be the body. I feel it is something I take for granted. I’m not sure I can say I’m healthy now, certainly more so than I was, but I do want to be more of a temple and treat myself with more care.

So ‘mind.’

Indeed – questions i’m wrestling with are… 

Why do I sway toward the conclusion of a divine creation/will? – Is it childhood teaching; or a force-infomed conclusion, like gravity?

What does a creator mean? Does it require worship? Does it define goodness inherently?

My question for today – why do i want there to be a god?? To relinquish responsibility for my existence? or to have an explaination for it??

Does my wish for there to be a rule or order to things come from a spirit of self-interest? Do i wish for rules so i can learn/utilise them?

Filed under: Depression, Existence, Future, Happy, Lonely, Reality, Sad, Training, Youth, about me, anxiety, hopes, influences, prose, solitary, writing , desire for change, escape, Happy, idea, oneandother, prose, writing

“And even later, more recently.”

“And even later, more recently.”

Tribute to Tom Lowe Taylor

You wrote to save your ass

from a dark emptiness

that followed its own linguistic urge.

What was obsolete

you sought

to write and newly sort,

unconscious

but wholly wary of yourself - 

a drunken rage of self-righteousness to overwhelm.

Made afraid to be alone

with your own genius,

or genus,

who can say?

But one word after another

one in another’s wake

to fuel the next

and on and on toward that

unfurnished house.

~~~




Will work on this some more – this is my first draft.

Filed under: Depression, Existence, Poetry, Sad, Strangers, Today, genius, genus, influences, men, other people's lives, poem, poet, published, tom lowe taylor, tribute, undervalued, writing , genius, genus, influences, men, poem, tom lowe taylor, tribute, writing

one and other anyone?

I’m going up on The Fourth Plinth for One and Other (oneandother.co.uk)

This is my official coming out.

I’m going to get the train down on the Morning of October 3rd and go up at 7pm till 8pm. It will be night time and I’ll be lit up.

I’ll be couchsurfing whilst I’m down there.

I’m yet to get confirmed officially by the charity that I want to go and support, but that looks set.

Once it is done, I have a tent and a bit of stuff ready for my walk back.

Yes, my ‘walk’ back from London. To survive by my wits.

I have decided to walk along from London to Oxford and then up the Welsh border back to The Wirral and then finish in Liverpool.

I can’t wait.

Other than that.

I get my new glasses on Thursday. I can’t wait because they are going to make me look sexy. I need the confidence boost.

I’m loving the fact that I’m meeting more people in Liverpool at the moment.

Filed under: Competition, Day-to-day, Family, Future, Happy, Reality, Travel, Youth, about me, hopes, solitary , 4th plinth, art, desire for change, one and other, oneandother, walking

apologies

Okay. So after putting it off for a lifetime I’ve sent the last letter of apology out to my exes. I’ve already gotten two replies before now. One is NOW MARRIED! Another is getting married.



Even women I have just known casually are getting married!

How are those for updates. Nevermind. Anyway.

It is part of putting things to rest, but it is also genuinely about being sorry. Also though, there is curiosity behind it.

I like the fact that lives keep going without me and I can catch up with people later on down their road.

I’ve also meditated quite a bit on the things they have given. Some have really impacted me, not least one who is pretty much an inspiration.



The thing is, a lot of the problems I have with others comes from the fact I don’t deal with envy well.

I get really annoyed when they are able to fullfill dreams and ambition and I’ve not got the guts to do it.



Which is why these last few months have been so fantastic. I’ve gotten a chance to make money from art and live for myself and my ambition.



So they are letters, written in 10mins, that say thank you and sorry.



Now we’ll see how many of them get really pissed at me for getting in touch.

Filed under: Future, Girls, Women, about me, anxiety, connection , desire for change, writing

not happier but doing something

Today is just the same as yesterday in terms of mood, but something happened last night.

I know it is a tired fact that I start a new novel every week, but this one isn’t new.

This one has taken shape in my mind over the last three years. This one I have lived.

So everyone who has known me over the last three years, you might feature in my new novel.

I’ll not be posting anything up. It is far too sordid to do in anything but a clean surgical incision.

Publication is the aim. I have written the outline already (I usually never have a plan).

The first line is a gem. It isn’t making me happier to write it, but it is at least something to do.

Filed under: Depression, Lonely, Reality, about me, nightmare, prose, published, the novel, undervalued, writing, writing the novel , desire for change, escape, idea, prose, writing