Category Archives: my writing

Hitting the void

Each time I sit to write, I hit a point of distraction, I have taken to checking my emails every couple of seconds, tipping things out of baskets to sort them and then putting them back in and drinking copious amounts of orangina.

Today my mission is, better to do than never to finish, blogging about the Manchester Literature festival.  Nearly all the events I attended were completely free and inspiration laden, so  . . .


Market Research

This morning I found myself googling words:

dupuytren’s contracture

an afflicted hand or 20 decadent beers?

I was going to write 3 bottles of vodka

yet that made the idea of consideration too lame

 

hyperplastic palmar aponeurosis

I realised a date with me could be scary

my brain like a hyperactive chickens

as I consider selling my thumb for the money

 

I must have been crazy to consider wishing I was 15 years older

I don’t want to talk about my mobile phone contract at all

yet this morning I found myself googling words

and thanking myself I got bored


Back a bit more spritely and stuffed with Shakespeare

Yesterday, I missed writing for the thought, as I was editing using Shakespeare and drinking Crabbies. The whole image doesn’t really fit it’s like this mathematical equation for which I will use pictures to illustrate

 AT0998RCA3RW7W4CA9JW0YDCAUOB6PCCAYGZBXJCAXFOH34CA9WIUKVCAY3KY3UCAKM7XW6CATIO14BCA75OS8ZCAEYSUQWCA7LPSIVCAYB9G1QCALBIBZRCA9G1M0BCA9L59M9CAG7WUHQCAMZODNB                 + 

  ABST848CA0Y6SRDCAC6VB1PCA3KD02UCACB6O0GCAXT9I2VCACQRZUYCALVTOC8CA6MOROUCAFGERX9CA8KP143CAFKKB88CA1O5WV1CADX5PCKCANYLK2QCA8TGHKYCAEI3REDCAFAY3FJCA659OTK

                  = harking back to the hours and times

                      where lashings of ginger beer

                      makes summer welcome

                      flowed your dearest desire

                      and ham rolls thy beauties

                      were an ever fixed mark


here’s an old poem I’m too tired

Tea Stains

 

These days rain keeps falling

banging breaking skin

unfinished memories stick

replay another digit

 

Often I forget other pieces

these regrets sprawled

jogging cider vinegar

I remember taste

 

Blanket filth accompanies

cradling lukewarm tea

sugar numb pain

drinking mine black

 

The days trickle blank noise

pretence streaks made

disposable people

approach the mirror

 

I stare becoming south

discussions create disgust

introducing cognitive flaws

reality swept windwards

 

Other people ring harsh bells

I chime only deaf noise

tea selection remains static

black no sugar strong


Synchronicity and spelling mistakes

Firstly, I am going to point out that I have just been through all the posts in my blog to fix all of my spelling mistakes, there were loads.

I did mean to put public hair in the Marina Abramovich Presents review, but I have since changed it, due to my embarrassment in sloppy English. I have my pre-uni lecturer and friend to thank for pointing this out to me, good job my degree wasn’t in English.

 Oh damn it was

I’ve been thinking a lot today about history and collective guilt.

Reading Malcolm X writing on white people’s guilt for putting the black people down, has made me start to question race, nationality and think about the “collective unconscious.”

 Now I am not somebody who has ever suffered oppression because of Race or Religion, and I don’t know how to feel about the fact that we are all responsible for society’s actions.

Anyway I’m going to finish reading before I return to this,

It made me start thinking of what I refer to as synchronicity, where I think that something is going to happen and therefore it does.

On Sunday for instance Adam and I thought we were going to run into people we knew, but did not know so well and we both did.  Is this an instance of synchronicity I ask myself? Baring in mind we were in Manchester on Sunday.

ADMPPQ2CAK1JB8ACAN54WI9CAL5T197CA55T9R5CAA4ZHTGCAHAHHXBCA11AILPCABCG73TCAC8YXVFCASVVKB0CAVFKI4TCAS6M8VWCAUT0CUQCAA8Y40QCASWNOWFCA1MFF4CCAR0ZQS0CA7N27TJ

Doing very little research for fun: here is what I have found

Events are synchronous because cause and effect work together, so when you think about something it transfers into reality.  

An event not causally related, but related through their occurrence in time, such as thinking about the phone ringing and it ringing.

Jung refers to this as a meaningful coincidence

Jung used the evidence of synchronicity to suggest that the collective unconscious exists;

I then learned of apophenia(would be a good band title) this is when connections are assumed when there isn’t any.

Like a book falling to the floor meaning the library is closing.  Or me thinking that apophenia would be a good name for a band and there turning out to be a band with that name and saying “how strange is that?”

Apophenia is controversial!! It may be a sign of a mental disorder

I thought I’d see if there were any funny or lovely stories of synchronous events and I found this

Amazing picture of a bat who hitchhiked a ride on a shuttle into space – mirror.co.uk

imagesfunny but not really synchronous


computer glaze

I’m suffering from it, that hazy feeling that comes about when too much time has been spent in one spot staring at words.

My world is now a blurry dizzy one due to the well known phenomenon.

I am judging time in a lapsy dasical way my doctors trip takes 20 minutes by bike, so I can only excuse my lateness on computer glaze, I left at 8.40 appointment 8.50, hmmm

Similarly I am still sat here writing and I need to be in East Didsbury for 7.30, my plans of going to Morissons have been scuppered at least

I may write again later but  think I am going to need the clarity of mind that unfortunately only a bitter shandy can give me as I’m driving.


Severe lack of inspiration

I hate it when people say this, but I think I’ve forgotten how to write.

I’ve tried to start a short story, so that I have something to read out at the writer’s group I’m going to go to on Tuesday next week and I just don’t seem to be able to think of a single idea in the world.

 I have gone back to two old pieces with the first few lines started, and have failed. Closing both and saying no to do you want to save your changes?

I feel miserable, where is the world of words?

 I have to write about this here because I signed up for nablopomo, which isn’t as my friend Kei thought access to a porn website, but is a blog a day incentive.

I need an idea if you have any give them me for free – please.


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