rioting and my thoughts

Because it is pertinent, I wish to muse slightly on the thoughts I’ve been having on the riots around the UK.

Whilst the majority of daily mail readers have been claiming that a breakdown of family values is to blame and the majority of guardian readers have been blaming runaway consumerism/poverty (which I was fully behind until I started thinking), I had a good long think this morning about it and came up with this.

The events of the last few days are really down to the concept of justice.

The rioters themselves, whilst perhaps not thinking this consciously, are enacting their own idea of justice. Flawed though it is, it is a retaliation to the injustice observed in authoritative bodies enacting power over them; be that the government, media, police or other less than ethical group. To the rioters the idea of taking things isn’t seen as a balanced equation, they are aware it is wrong but view ‘wrong’ as something which is corrected by the authorities and whilst the authorities are doing ‘wrong’, they think that their own ‘wrong’ is less wrong than the ‘wrong’ enacted by those higher in society. Besides, they are stupid enough to ignore the fact that something remains wrong if they are caught or not. A lot are self-justifying their actions. I shouldn’t wonder if this is an attempt to circumvent the guilt that they would be exposed to if they were to think about the people they have actually hurt (members of their own community and the next generation who will grow up with even less freedom).

Those in the media and those swallowing it are observing the events of the last few days and thinking about nothing except the present injustice. They are ignoring the fact that Cameron is a hypocrite who has himself enacted random acts of criminal damage in his own childhood. They are also ignoring the fact that there is an injustice at the heart of all this which, should one consider the issues, will uncover the real issue that society must face.

The idea of Liberty.

I am a person who is free to live my life as I see fit. My liberty is secure on condition that I do not impose force over another person and disrupt their liberty. It is ethically wrong to murder, enslave or steal from anther human being because these acts disrupt their liberty. It is ethically wrong to use force on anyone; whether is is by trickery, unfair transaction or by using violence. (*)

So now we come to government. I am at liberty to choose a leader. Those around me can choose to follow that same leader. In our country we have democracy, which isn’t perfect but it avoids a conflict of leadership amongst those in government. So leading from the idea of democracy, those that we choose to represent us are subject to the same rules as a single person. They are not above anyone, they are just chosen to do the job of protecting and providing a service to us.

They do not have the right to enact force against anyone in our name. (Lets ignore my thoughts on war in general, otherwise we will be here all day). So now we come to the crux of things.

People are calling for violence against those who are rioting and whilst we have the right to request others to defend us, we do not have the right to use violence done to us as an excuse to perpetrate the violence against another person/s.

People have lost sight of the purpose of the government and our own responsibilties as a society to ensure that the least of us are protected in every sense. We have a responsibility to walk through life with our eyes open.

So whatever the NUMEROUS causes for the riots (there will be as many reasons as there are rioters), let’s remember that we ignore philosophical issues at our peril and the longer we ignore justice and ethics the worse things will decline.

I’ve been thinking about a lot more, but I need a break from typing.

(*) I believe that the media tricks us and fools the masses on a daily basis, that the government steals from us in the form of taxes (more through the misuse of those funds to wage war and bail out bankers – actual schemes like the police (when acting ethically) and social care are a fair transaction), our employers are under the false assumption that they pay for our lives and not just our time and lastly that violence is perpetrated in our name on a moment by moment basis because we subscribe to an unregulated authority which does not consult us (though this is partly due to the shortcoming/failure of democracy.)

a feeling not as fickle as love.

-

I know that I write so that I can make a living, some day. But now I’m worried about my characters. Even if they are real.

God.

Most of the people I write about are real. So when they die, that is that. So I need to write about them, to capture them (if I can).

Most of the time I do that, in my journals. I write people as they are, no shields up, no gimmicks.

Without a single declaration of love, there is no one I won’t try to save the way I save people. Even the people I hate, I save.

Right, back to the work.

I do love you.

You know who ‘you’ are.

I love you, but I can’t say it to your face and will never allow myself that close to another living being. So in the absence of calling it ‘love’, I cannot live without you. Even if you are far from me, there will always be the show of affection. There will always be the place in my heart. A feeling not as fickle as love.

how to be free

.

The book I’m reading ‘How to be Free, by Tom Hodgkinson is without doubt the best novel I have come across since reading Jay Griffiths ‘Pip, Pip’ and ‘Wild: An Elemental Journey’ – it’s packed to the brim with useful facts that do what all good books should: open the mind.
His ideas are recycled and collated, rather than being original, but that doesn’t make them unworthy. I would not have known half the information that he has presented without this tomb. So I give thanks for his care and passion in writing it.

Rather than a self-help book aimed at fixing a broken life, he instead demonstrates that there is an innate wholeness within everyone and that we need to overcome certain modern obstacles in order to access our inbuilt fullness. Obstacles like TV and working life. Like newspapers and the adverts that infect our world. Hurdles like bills and the need to outsource in order to fix our problems. He’s not a crank, not some preacher. He’s well aware of his own limitations.

What he presents is an example of the things we can do to better our position in life. By tuning out the TV’s attempt to entertain and rely instead on our own creativity; whatever that may be. Picking up an instrument, learning a language, learning a craft. We can exercise our mind and souls and come out the other side without the faintest hint of boredom.

He knows that our modern world holds a great deal of pleasures, not least of all: drink, sex, music, film, tobacco, dance, photography. However we are often at the mercy of our jobs and cannot devote the time needed to truly extract joy from life.

How, in a nine-to-five profession, can we do anything but wake, work, eat and sleep. We complain about not having enough hours in the day. His answer, do less. It’ll turn out that you’re actually doing more. We consume out of lethargy. So why not use our idleness to our advantage. Rather than going to the effort of toiling away at a job, why don’t we just spent a couple of hours a day making something we can trade or sell.

TV is just a wind-down before sleep overtakes us again anyway. Nowadays, music is something we buy, rather than something we create. Ask any musician what they would rather be doing, working or playing music and there’s an obvious response. We needn’t have to buy music to enjoy it, instead we should venture into the streets and listen to buskers and go to gigs. We should drink and be merry and bring back the tavern. We need to turn our creative out-put into a means of permitting an ongoing lifestyle. We need to start producing rather than consuming. Self-sufficiency becomes the staple, the ideal, the tool to keep the wolf from the door. The wolves of tax inspectors, debt collectors and all other deplorable types.

What I have taken, though not what was detailed, is that instead of ‘my’ pack of cigarettes it is rather ‘our’ pack. Instead of ‘my’ money, it is ‘our’ money. Money that changes hands as quickly as we eat, travel, play and read. If I make something it is only ‘mine’ for the fact that someone else hasn’t made it first. What sort of idea is that? That the food I am eating was grown on land that actually belongs to all of us, not some private force. So I’m learning the harmonica, I’m not doing that to only play for myself. So I can use that to enrich other people’s lives and they will in turn enrich my own.

So from today, if someone asks me for a cigarette I will say – “sure, you can have one of our cigarettes.”

I will work to chip away my debt and learn a new way of earning money after that. It might be hard, but it’ll be a damn-sight more enriching than working in some crummy retail space for less money than my life is worth.

Anyway, the book is a joy. It is enlightening. Go read it!

.

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.

Lessons Learnt

Lessons Learnt

When I came to this land of sandstone and moody weather. This dockside city and this peninsula. When I came to this new backdrop, I had no clue what lay in store for me. I had little knowledge of who I would meet. I had still less idea what I might do to make a living. I had a small collection of belongings and a small collection of clothes.

Almost six months have passed and I still have no clue what to do to earn a living. Then again, I’m in no hurry to. However, I have met a good stock of irregular people who now form a very integral part of my existence.

Not least of those I have met one who has made a very clear impression on me.

I come to the six month stage reflectively. I met the challenge of collating my lessons and describing myself in two senses. The former self and the fresh self.

Former.

I was selfish, a liar and a coward.

Fresh.

I am selfish (though less so) and cowardly. Though I no longer lie to anyone, not at all to myself.

Former.

I drank and ate in order to sate my boredom, lethargy and to comfort a troubled heart. I was self-destructive.

Fresh.

I have used self-destructive energy to create things. Jewelry, gadgets, art, writing, video, photographs. I drink only socially. I eat only when I am hungry. I have awakened myself to the need for challenge in my daily life and my troubled heart is therefore somewhat eased.

I should not consider myself truly a better person. Merely a different one. I do think that I am better equipt for life. The previous me was a lot more giving (but recklessly so) and that secured a wider social circle. In the short term I am not spreading myself so thinly that I cannot cope with the number of people who require my attention.

With all of this thinking, comes a review of my future and how I see myself moving forward.

I’m still awaiting appointments. I’ve set up many contacts with people regarding photography and reviewing and also in the realm of music. I have a keen desire to get more involved in the visual art scene in and around Liverpool. So that is certainly a goal.

I’m still in the process of refining my ideas for the near-future. I’m organizing my focus. More will follow.

Other News.

So I’ve clearly been inspired recently to be more energetic and to that end I have started to make a list of all my books and DVDs. The hope is that I can post the complete list online and have people request things from me, in exchange for other things in return. I am aiming to be less materialistic. So the idea is that I give away one thing to get some title/book in return that I will watch/read and then I will return said title/book to the person. If they like my book, I may well let them keep it. See how much I myself like the book.

I will post later with more details.

Photography is going well. Very well indeed with my camera phone, I’ve caught some wonderful images with it. Will continue to post them to jensensnaps and hope that you will comment on a few, tell me what you think.

I’m working on making my way over to a few gigs in Liverpool in the next few days. I’m thinking it will be both a chance to take some snaps and also an opportunity to do some reviewing. See if I’ve kept my ability in that sense.

Writing.

Writing is going wonderfully. Really working hard and hope to make a writing blog shortly, until then I will continue to use the excerpts section on here.

Reading.

I’m reading Quest for Adventure: Ultimate Feats of Modern Exploration (Hardcover) by Chris Bonington’ http://amzn.com/0792279530 – which is about…

‘There is a special breed of person who thrives on risk, for whom an unconquered mountain or an unexplored ocean represents an irresistible challenge. Some are world-famous — Hillary, Heyerdahl, Chichester — while others are known only to a tightknit group of their peers, but all share certain hallmark qualities: a fierce desire to be first and best; a deep commitment to their goals; and most important of all, a kind of determination and endurance that is even more spiritual than physical.

Chris Bonington understands the powerful allure of adventure, and in this enthralling book he chronicles a generous selection of the most remarkable and daring exploits of the past half-century. A record-setting mountaineer, he’s the perfect guide to some, of the world’s most remote, forbidding, and dangerous places, from the blazing sands of the Sahara to the frigid Antarctic ice cap, from the blinding white of a Himalayan blizzard to the pitch-black depths of an underground river. Along with the first-person story of his own pioneering ascent of Annupurna’s treacherous South Face, Bonington presents vivid accounts of 16 other epics — on land, on water, and in the air.

We voyage across the Pacific with Thor Heyerdahl’s crew on the primitive balsa raft called Kon-Tiki and ride the jet stream around the world in the gondola of the ultra-modern Breitling Orbiter 3 balloon. We free-climb the vertiginous face of El Capitan and follow the footsteps of solo climbers into the Death Zone of Karakoram peaks. We cling alone and desperate to a tiny, dismasted sailboat in an Antarctic ocean gale, fight gun battles with murderous bandits during the first boat descent of the rapid-strewn Blue Nile, cave-dive hundreds of feet beneath the English hills, and much more.

This book isn’t just a lively narrative of 17 great adventures; its also an expert overview of the history, lore, and techniques of aeronautics, ocean sailing, mountaineering, and polar trekking, to name just four, as well as a wonderful portrait gallery of scores of colorful figures, familiar names, and unsung heroes alike. Finally, it’s a fascinating analysis of the wide variety of styles and personalities drawn to adventuring, observed with the keen eye of an experienced insider.

Highlighted by more than 125 photographs, illustrations, and maps, these truly suspenseful tales of triumph — and often tragedy — offer a wonderful panorama of adventuring and its all-or-nothing champions, the extraordinary men and women who feel most alive when they are on the very edge of a perilous unknown.’

Also reading some other books, but going slowly on them because they are what I call ‘food books’ rather than ‘reading books’. So some digestion is required and notes are taken to tear the things into smaller ‘bite-size’ pieces.

songs about me

So I’m still not feeling fulfilled.

I have a great life. No need to work. No deadlines. No stress. But I still don’t feel like I actually can be bothered breathing.

That isn’t anyone’s fault. I’m very happy at a lot of things in my life. Great relationships with people, great deal of success already with my projects.

I’ve taken to making jewellery and that is going really well.

I can now juggle. I can make my funky art. I can write (i’m really producing some amazing work). I can make clothes. Upholster chairs. Sail the family boat. Travel when i like.

I have a 32inch hd tv in my room. Surround sound. Dvd player. Laptop. Camera. Camcorder. Guitar. Typewriter. Sewing Machine. Mountains of books and dvds. I have material things to make one tear your own material to pieces in lamentation.

I’ve taken up photography and that is going really really well – as i’ve been offered a fair few opportunities of late to take photos of all sorts of events etc.

Just to touch on writing again. I’ve written the most exciting pieces of fiction ever recently!

I’ve not gotten drunk in weeks and weeks and weeks. So i know i’m not an alcoholic. I’m just a bit of twat when it comes to knowing my limit. So i learnt that lesson! lol – (On the flip side, due to not drinking i’ve picked up on inherent social anxiety, so i think that is why i drank a lot – to lubricate the old personality and push away the fact i get scared in big groups. I draw a lot of energy from people, but crowds really upset me and get me timid. Hence many times leaving parties and street festivals and declining to go on trips off to outdoor festivals too..  when i then lied and came up with some lame excuse. Least now i’m honest enough to admit i’m just a pussy when it comes to large groups.)

But it all amounts to a hill of beans when even on these bloody pills I still can’t seem the conjure up a will to live.

I had a song written about me a while back and the idea of it was – that Much came “to realise that it is life that you (I) despise.“

I’m sure that isn’t true, as much as it is too strong a thing for me to feel toward life. I’m not crying out for help, nor even really making much of an assertion past the simple honest truth.

I don’t care.

I really couldn’t care less.

With that is freedom and oblivion – but i really have no opinion on the matter of life and its vice and virtue.

The last relationship fell on a sword of my uncaring. I’d given up hiding behind a mask made of smiles. Showed a little too much of what it means to live near me. That there is very little that can stir up a case of genuine joy.

Maybe pills are making me apathetic and i’m looking back on life through these eyes, but i think i’ve pretty much always had this outlook.

She goes on to ask why I “must be so blue.” – It used to be up on last.fm, but it has been taken off now – but it is still a damn good song, despite the personal nature of it.

I really don’t try to be. I’m the life and soul. I’m happy and moving like a blur and i still can’t seem to shake this apathy.

Perhaps it is to give me a little wall between my mind and the worry of death? I used to worry about that a lot as a kid. Death became a sort of monster to me, stalking the land, killing indiscriminately, no proof of hereafter, of continuation. I feared a lack of a thereafter more than anything else. Here i am, several years later – not caring.

Perhaps i got bored of the question.

Unsolved questions will drive you mad – unless you temper it with some disinterest.

I’m quite able to hold myself out of the top floor window in my house and not fear the fall. Is that scary? Should i have vertigo to prove i mean to continue?

I’m not sure. I just get the sense that all these wonderful opportunities and skills and talents etc… are just wasted on me. I’m too ambivalent about them all.

Or maybe that isn’t true, maybe what i mean to say is that i can’t hold on to the joy of it for long? I have short bursts of intense happiness and then bam, nothing.

I don’t know, fuck it. At the end of the day it isn’t important. Except i do ache for a little purpose. I’m considering making up a god and just following that blindly. I’ve already taken up Buddhist meditation. That is too much the absence of God, but it meets with the fact i don’t care a stitch for all this junk in my room.

p.s. I’m still pretty lonely and need to meet more people to keep me entertained and motivated.

digging in and out of holes…

Friday night was dinner in The Egg – as usual, I didn’t eat a meal. I did have fun though, was sat there just loving every min of being with people who are lovely and entertaining, but also inspiring too!

This will be another sparse blog entry, because I can’t really focus. Also, I didn’t take my own camera, so I can’t share the photos unless you follow my friends on twitter.

We stayed in The Egg. Nightingale and I shared chocolate cake, she got her awards for the end of the contest and then Bluebird read out a poem she had written for the occasion.

Then we all moved on to a bar to get trashed. Except, Nightingale and I don’t drink. So a good night was had, watching everyone else get hammered.

After an energetic end to scriptfrenzy, the next day brought with it a certain level nature of feeling. I was still in Liverpool (crashing at Robin’s) so I woke up and headed out to a cafe to get some more writing done. Novel is well on the way! (Again)

I feel like the time-limit of the frenzy really helped me focus and, of course, a little competition takes you a fair amount of the way as well.

Another wonderful start to an amazing month. Still no need to stress or worry – everything just works like it does. No need to feel sad, no reason to hurry either.

Happy happy.

Tomorrow Nightingale is coming to The Wirral so I get to show her around.

Oh, and for the last two days I’ve been… digging a new pond. My parents bought a boat. My living room had a new fireplace fitted. I’ve started work on a song using the keyboard in my dad’s studio. Loads really.

Any questions?

hole.

mountain

20mins isn’t enough…

Yesterday was a great day. Starting at 6am when I woke up, after a lovely dream about flying, I got myself groomed and then my mother took me to the church offices.

It was back in 2004 that I last walked in there – when I worked doing transcription and general admin stuff – it was a strange feeling, because the whole place looked the same. Nothing had changed.

Its an old folks home, so there are an array of wrinkly people walking around. There is a massive grand staircase. The place used to be a hospital, before it was converted by the church. Since then its been 35 years or something and they’ve now moved over to the church opposite, so this building is now just a retirement home and a children’s day nursery. Oh, and our offices out back.

I was asked to just trawl the interweb to look for funding options. We’re sorting out an intergenerational project for local people. Two tasks. Find funding for a mobile football cage. Find funding to implement a day caring scheme where young people interact with the old ones to get some connectivity.

Cue the research that says that the break down of the family unit has meant a shift in peoples attitude to age ranges and now we’re sticking with our own age group – rather than getting a more rounded example of humanity – colour me a contradiction. I don’t conform, I love older people.

I got to leave at 2pm, after picking up some more paint for the living room.

Reaching Liverpool I was maybe 10mins waiting for Eagle to arrive, which gave me plenty to whip out my script and have a scribble.

We walked about, got some wool, headed to Waterstones, then on to 3345 (which I adored).

We did some script readings. Some people read (not out-loud though) my script and hopefully they were sincere in their professed love of it.

We read some more. TurtleDove arrived. The write-in began. I just sat and nattered to people, rather than put anything productive in motion. Before long it was time to move on. We left Bluebird to finish her wine and took flight to FACT.

In FACT my mind couldn’t focus on anything but Nightingale. Its really strange how preoccupied I’ve gotten. Smitten is how I’d describe it. I can’t call it more apt than itself. I’m not blinded by obsession. I just really like her and its lovely how honest that emotion is. After a long time having the upper hand in everything its a good feeling to let things play out as she pleases. It smacks against all the advice I’ve ever given.

MEN: – You should hold on to a certain level of dignity.

Well, this isn’t too dignified, its out and out enjoyment of a wonderful feeling. I’m awkward, my mouth goes dry around her, I get nervous. What I mean is… that doesn’t happen usually! I’m in command of myself around people, I can calculate their feelings and fake my feeling to the harmony of it. With Nightingale, we’re in harmony without me reading her.

I’ll try to be a little clearer… I’m not aware that either of us is acting out our feelings, rather than feeling them. So that’s messy, not refined and tidied-up to fit the idea of what romance should be. Its sushi-romance – raw but tasty.

After leaving FACT I thought I’d chance asking her where she was. Out with some people it turned out, but able to steal herself away to see me for 20mins.

For the first 5 I just looked at her in passing and kept trying to work out where she was. I couldn’t read her, I saw no sign that might indicate a feeling. I wanted so badly to grab her and kiss her, but then… courage failed me. ME, the walking ego. ME! I was dry mouthed and timid as a mouse.

I’m not sure I can make it clear enough that this is a great feeling and that I’m not nuts. You will read this and think ‘oh IS, he’s gone all mushy over a girl’ – I’m still me, I’ve got my doubts, reservations, etc.. But this time – I think she’s holding back more than me. Its a reversal of roles. So if it goes wrong – if she turns around and ends things because I’m not what she wants – maybe that is karma working its magic on me.

THEN… In a dramatic moment of ease… she grabbed me! And then I’m certain -holding her close – that she’s in the same place, just as cautious… just as eager to have things go well, rather than badly.

We shared what will be marked as our first kiss. We were both nervous. It was wonderful. I want many, many more of them.

I’m not going to write all the things I was thinking, many of which were filth – others of which might get me the label of ‘softy’. Instead, I’ll say that I had a great 20mins but it wasn’t enough.

The thing is – if 20mins isn’t enough. That in itself is a truth worth paying attention to. If 20mins isn’t enough and I can recognize that, then its got to be more than a passing fancy. With anyone else it’ll be 5mins and I’ll already be thinking about what I could be writing, or doing, or where I could be. When I’m around her, I’m caught in a temporal distortion. There is no way of knowing how long its been and there is no compulsion to check.

So, if I’d like nothing more than to steal her away forever, hole her up in a cave of sheets and talk about poetry (without the frank want and need of libido becoming too loud and ruining a good thing), well – might that prove its worth reaching for? If only to roll with the new experience of infatuation as opposed to careful litigation.

You see, to me, just it being different means its something worth seeing through, whatever happens. After all, this might well be what books and movies have been talking about. We will see.

a water-balloon meets a bee

So, knowing – as you do – that my girlfriend and I broke up on the 26th of last month. Well… where to from there?

I came home and took up the task of mending myself. I’ve something, which I suspect can best be described as manic depression, though i wont jump the gun too much until the fact is settled.

I was having a depressive episode about a week before my relationship collapsed. In fact, I think it was a major element that swung my ex-girlfriend’s mind in favor of separation.

20th of Jan and I’m flat-lining on one of the worst depressions in my most recent history and so I ask her to stay around for me (in the sense that she stick in the house to keep my spirits up) – she goes out, which is fine (i figure she’ll be back) – she’s gone for pretty much the entire week – under the banner of band rehearsals. Which I guess was just her way of saying ‘i’m not really feeling the whole caring thing right now!’.

I’m not saying that I’m that sick I need a carer, but I was pretty sick and I just needed someone to watch dumb movies with and eat junk to keep me high on sugar. The Great Distracto!

I’m a sad little muffin – such a pathetic creature – regardless I held it together like a water balloon meeting a bee for the first time.

I hit rock bottom and she had a talk with me – I figured there was no point fighting it (i was beyond the capacity to want to save myself or any part of my life) – so I let her go and GOD do I feel better for that.

I do. No word of a lie, its done me good. I’m certain that the feelings I had for her wasn’t real love – just a deep caring and I know that that will change shape shortly. It’ll go the way of so many past loves, there are stages that I wont go into detail about.

So a few calls later and I’m back in Liverpool (the Wirral to be exact, i have no scouse accent [in fact none at all]). I’m pretty even right now – level as a spirit, you could say. Or maybe not.

I still get these ups and downs that last maybe an hour tops – just little blips before I lose the thread of them and wander off to distract myself with something new and shiny.

For the most part the pills are working and I should be referred over to see someone more specialistic soon.

Until then, I’ve written quite a bit of stuff that I’m going to post up here. That line between genius and madness is pretty thin after all.

p.s. I ask ya, who wants normal anywho – I’m so much more fun nuts than i am on these bloody pills – *yawn!*

Floating in the vacuum of space

 

Whatever falls in my path I have fun with it. I’m still not sure what to do with my life, but soon I will need a job. I will again return to the pits. Prepare myself for some personal agony, personal anxiety, and get hook up with a healthy dose of personal apathy to get me through each day.

 

Personally, I think it is rather cheeky to request eight hours of my time a day for the five out of seven, and only give me near-on one thousand pounds for the privilege each month. Then again, I’ve not met anyone willing to pay more, so I guess I have to put up. Cruel and unfair, this world, but there is nowhere else to go.

 

Pause for a moment thinking of the young Jensen floating in the vacuum of space with an ever-increasing bank balance.

 

I see a lot of people ahead of me, not altogether fairly either. I look at their work and scoff and turn cheek. That’s the luck of the draw though, someone must like that tripe, otherwise why would the author have had it published.

 

This week I trust in publisher’s and their amazing knowledge of great literature… or not.

 

Regardless, I have the distinct feeling everyone undervalues. Taken for granted, rather than picked for Granta.

 

I need to focus on writing these bloody stories I have in my head.

 

Continue with The Coconut Stopwatch, Trip, The Pack, The Boy Who Entered Dreamtime and The Formicary. The problem is picking just one to really focus on. I love them all like children and love the pace I’m going at. I have more ideas that I want to start on as well!

 

Too many ideas and not enough time to write them all.

 

I think I’m going to focus on The Coconut Stopwatch, as it is a collection of short stories, which means there is at least fourteen opportunities at accomplishment before the grand accomplishment of finishing the compilation.

 

I have my computer hooked up to the printer, a big yellow folder to hold the drafts, little bulldog clips, a new ergonomic pen. Now I mean business. I’m going to write the epics out. Place sections on here.