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

Modern-Day Mercury

[If this isn’t self-indulgent I don’t know what is.]

So I’m volatile – liquid at room temperature – I’m meant to be a herald of commercial success. Perhaps I am, though not for myself.

I’m a muse – I can inspire writing in anyone and ideas a-plenty. I’ve always seen myself as a muse, but the mercurial thing – well, fits all too glove-like around the extent of my character.

Winged sandals and a penchant for bizarre and spontaneous trips. That’s me.

On the topic of me… [a topic I can’t truncate]

I’m this strange, flawed creature. I have a mercurial streak – but also a heart of gold (not yet robotic). I might not have a silver spoon – but my jaded mind leads to diamond clarity. Copper-wired veins ready to hook up to all and sundry, I can’t help but bleed ruby and blink sapphire. Soul as iridescent as opal.

I’m at least a tapestry of treasures.

I’m trying to be a better person, slowly. I’ll be better. See. Better.

Anyway… back to twitter…

Filed under: Re-Genesis, about me, ergonomic, hopes

the start of things

Chapter One

Re-Genesis

 

 

Reality tearing sounds a little like the extended crashing of cymbals. It had a touch of ‘Revelation’ about it, with great lightening-bolt-like rips running down from the sky in a jagged pattern and, with a rumble of earth, stalactite counterparts reaching up to greet them. Once joined it all looked like a network of veins, or the strands of an epic haphazard web; ink running down a windowpane. The storms, which were a result of the rapid relocation of air, wreaked across the trembling landscape; trees were shaken loose from their roots. Light, too, seemed to change, grew more concentrated in places and in others the sun was eclipsed by the tall pillar-like openings that cast shadows without hems. Where cracks opened and met with the sea, The News showed the water pouring inwards and breaking into vapor that started to glow like embers. Embers that scattered in all directions inside the blackness, until they eventually put themselves out. Anything entering the openings did the same, exploding into a million fireflies that could be seen against the back-drop of black, until they faded out and died. Some cracks were thin, enough that one could circumvent them, like a tree, simply a nuisance to passing; others were as broad as skyscrapers.

 

A country singer, like Captain Wilco, might have described it better. Might just have drawn out a bit more majesty and sang a tune of going home soon, but most other expression pales.

 

Scientists, infinitely less lyrical, spoke like geologists; explaining that our reality had developed cracks along its ‘fault lines’. Announced that these were slowly expanding and that they would make the binding ribbons of our reality increasingly thin. Then they became bakers to explain how, like bread, once the ‘fibers’ of our reality were broken it would be torn apart piece by piece. Last of all they spoke like prophets and philosophers, explaining nothing past apocalyptic rhetoric and idol speculation; about worlds beyond and possible re-genesis on another dimensional plane. In the end it was all just black hole nonsense; nobody sane would believe that there was anything but oblivion on the other side. So, after the first of the ‘jumpers’; who had convinced themselves that what was needed was to ‘break on through to the other side’, most people had the sense not to accelerate their demise.

 

 When civilians saw it there were as many reactions as there were faces. Some wept, some screamed, others began to laugh like maniacs; while Cup Shonee, standing above the little town of Hosannah, just brought the bottle back to his lips and stood expressionless.

 

 fin.

 

 

more to come. 

Filed under: Captain Wilco, Cup, Hosannah, Re-Genesis, Reality, Shonee, books, cracks, hopes, mount, novel, prose, the novel, writing, writing the novel