Wednesday 14 September 2011

The start of a prayer

Think boy think! Try to figure it out the pattern of shoutings and possible incidents that come with the rain. Before was completely silent, and as they clatter and row, with lights on and off are actually taking the piss. For sure it is paranoia, but it interesting to observe when it is only a passing phase. Witnessing your own egotistical issues from both inside and out. Hopefully this can help lead to a situation and try, oh please help me try, to be a decent, honest and reasonable human being; as close as ideal as possible, whilst satisfying basic human existence needs, passing on genes and experience, enjoying life and hurting no-one...

Shit shit shit. There I go again. At least it's not gossip. Certifiable maniac? Sorry again, mind sometimes seems to go into trips far too fast for my humble typewriting speed. A friend was the son of a famous UK poet (one that my poor education never made me aware of until after meeting them, and being told, thought I'd better do some research!). Anyway, digression over, his father used to sketch his work in pencil, crossing bits out and so forth (missing out the troublesome and frankly rather unsatisfying full-stop after etc.). Ha! What's this shit about writing about grammar that makes one need to use it so carefully? Can one grammatically correctly reproduce a tome-length monologue whilst keeping perfectly verbal with emphasis and stress without suddenly becoming a lo-fi gaudy magazine?

Funnily that puts me in frame of work. Good thing... I do have a lot to do and a lot to consider in the next few months. "I'll judge but I'm not getting involved".

Boots on, weapon in pocket, I'm off to take a look.

Ciao for now.

Right back from that little episode. Car's not here, excursion in building, yet more time to consider existence before jumping to the keyboard - to be frank, there is other work I must do, but the safety-inspection was kind of work, and all this must come out. Surely anyway, it's all practising communication. (Spell-check goes when thinking as I write). What can I say to her? And off we digress.....

Slurp of the vodka & orange and we'll call it a new paragraph. Or chapter. Or book. I guess each time a blog auto-saves it creates another possible image somewhere of a work part-completed. Which is where I was trying to go with the Sassoon opener so far ago. I wasn't trying to name-drop, honest.

Name-dropping... now there a whole kettle-of-fish. It's kind of fun, harmless bragging if you like, but also can have hidden purposes. Continuous bullshit name-dropping is horrendously boring - a trait the egotistical paranoiac in me horrendously recognises. I have exaggerated often, but never to the point of bullshit. You would be surprised how many people in strange places have experienced first-hand corroboration of anecdotes widely-reported to be outright fantasy. I do however try to keep it under control, and never use it to take the piss. Taking the piss is always light-hearted with no injury dreamt.

Think I may have fucked something very special up. Still getting such mixed signals. No not even going there with this, my un-read, partially secret blog. Can one really put one's inner thoughts about love and relationships on something that could be discovered by anybody? I have fucked something very special up.

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