Where to Next?
I sit at the laptop just typing away and allowing the sound and rhythm of the keys formulate some sense of my random thoughts with regards to this fucking blog. I use that expletive because I’m getting frustrated at myself and trying to find a valid reason to keep on churning out the excrement on these pages. Every piece of writing whether it’s blogging, novels, journalism or whatever else people set their language skills to needs to find a harmony between the person writing and the world that person occupies.
I’ve been reading my posts recently not out of some narcissistic thrill ride but wondering whether its sheer randomness of content is positive or a pile of sun dried turds. A huge blot on the cyber-landscape. I look at the books on my shelf, On Chesil Beach, The Works of Oscar Wilde, Psychogeography blah blah blah. These are things that I’ve enjoyed reading and all connected to me in one way or another. In simple terms, they all made sense.
I’ve always considered writing as something that I would always do whatever my circumstances. Reading and scribbling were always things I did as a child and still do as an adult. The problem is that it has never gone beyond scribbling. I’m still a child when it comes to writing. The blog was supposed to be a way of focusing my writing energies into something tangible and something worthwhile but ultimately they’re still scribbles. Lame, retarded scribbles.
So what now little man? I’m going to try and mould the content of the blog into something that actually will make sense not only to me but also to the few random people out there who read it (a huge thank you to those individuals who spend time looking at this site. It can’t be easy for you).
It will mean a lot screaming and throwing of things while I create something tangible out of this site so that it isn’t just a playground ride that I jump on to occasionally because I’m bored. “Writing is pain” I once read somewhere (I can’t recall where) and if this blog has any future then I need to commit to it full hearted and experience a bit of pain.
When you said “Writing is pain” I immediately thought of the intro to FAME where Lydia would say
“You’ve got big dreams? You want fame? Well, fame costs. And right here is where you start paying … in sweat.”
Of course, that’s maybe because I secretly want to see you in a leotard infront of a big mirror
That’s where I got my inspiration. I loved Leroy. I actually wrote that blog entry whilst wearing a leotard.
“Starmakeerrrr…dream breaker.”