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Right, after a four month break I've decided to give this another go. I won't be away much this month (at least not abroad), so I should manage to keep it up.
So, hello again! Am looking forward to reading everyone's updates. Why do I always feel the need to write an introductory entry? Probably cuz I can't think of a "proper" one right now.
I'm developing RSI from constant Ctrl-C and Ctrl-V at work. Do you know how difficult it is to switch to right-clicking? Very difficult. Though pain should be enough of a motivator, really.
I am green. Green trousers, green T-shirt, green make up and green finger nails. I don't own green shoes I'm afraid - well, not this shade of green anyway.
It's sunny out and I have a slight sunburn from sitting on my roof earlier. There is nothing like it!
Up next? A train up to London, and then Janet Jackson at the Royal Albert Hall. I think I've decided to spend the night and laze about at my friend's tomorrow.
In conclusion you could say that life is pretty good, all things considered. I do need to moisturise my hands though.
Your father always used to say, "Life ain't no joke, but you still gotta laugh!" He's been gone 14 years now and let me tell you, I ain't had many laughs since, what with three mouths to feed on a waitress's paycheck and his old mother to look after.
I swear to God, I have no clue how I did it sometimes. But I know one thing, Michael, and don't you ever forget it: your father wanted you to have a good life, and I busted my ass to make sure that would happen.
So you ain't marrying that hussy!
I was only five years old
On your first late night visit.
The night the gripping fear got hold
Of me - still not gone, is it.
"You let me play, or I will be
so mad, and see your sister!"
And five, six, seven year old me
Complied, and you just kissed her.
I feel no hate, tho God knows how -
Dad, do you know what trust is?
But I will pull the trigger now
And claim poetic justice.
Bit grim, isn't it. I wanted to write about poetic justice. Starting to hate it now so must quickly hit post!
"See? Told you!" My brother looked at me smugly as he designated the wide expanse of water in front of us.
We had walked 12 days since leaving our village. It had all started as a stupid bet: my brother had heard, through a friend of a friend, whose grandfather had travelled "as far as his feet could carry him", that if you walked long enough, you would reach the end of the world. I had said that was ridiculous, and my brother had predictably challenged me.
But I wasn't convinced. It was only water! I wondered what lay beyond.
Imagine what your life would be like if you knew when you died. Strictly speaking it's possible, if you end your own life. Of course something else could always happen in the meantime.
Suicide is really the only way of taking control of your own death. I'm pro-suicide, though I know the pain of being left behind. And I've wavered, opining that your life is not always your own, especially if you have a family.
But ultimately it is. It's the most personal thing you'll ever own. So you should be allowed to do with it as you please.
I used to be quite fascinated by the RAF. The Red Army Fraction, not the Royal Air Force. Then I grew older and more moderate, and distanced myself from them.
The anger and powerlessness I feel right now in light of the News of the World / News International scandal, which implicates the press, the ruling class and the executive, has reminded me of them again.
When you feel that "The System" is so corrupt that it truly becomes the embodiment of Evil, then suddenly violence becomes perfectly justifiable. What other way is there to strike fear into those in power?
"I am writing to give you notice of my intent to leave employment with $cumbag Employer. Having secured a position at another company, my last day of employment at $cumbag Employer would be the 1st January 2011. Due to my unspent annual leave entitlement of 8.8 days as well as three days flexi time, this will make my last full day in the office the 13th December 2010."
Just found this in my Gmail. YAY! Still makes me feel all fuzzy inside. Two weeks notice. SERVED THEM RIGHT for taking me for granted and treating me like crap. Ha!
I had a very cultured day yesterday (well, today, considering I should be writing this entry on the day). I went to the Big Town aka London, saw an exhibition at the British Library (and spent £16 on postcards in their shop), had a wander around Tate Modern's permanent collection, and went to see Much Ado About Nothing.
I also went to M&Ms world on Leicester Square and
bought a huge bag of green M&Ms!!!
It was the highlight of my day! No, actually, the play was, it was very funny. Even tho I generally can't stand Shakespeare.
My mind could not be blanker.
No, that's not true of course, my mind is never blank - I wish it were, I'd love to know what it feels like to not have 100 thoughts and worries swirling around my head.
What I meant was that it currently does not contain anything I could usefully jot down here to create a story. I swear I tried though!
Instead: fun exercise! Remove one letter in a word to create another word:
blink - link
place - pace
pain - pin
linked - liked
tick - tic
The removed letters create
word: BLANK! Ta-da!
is a great German word that can't adequately be translated. Suggested equivalents are "bleak" and "desolate", but that's not quite it. Bleak is a freezing winter's night, trostlos an empty playground on a drizzly October afternoon.
Literally, trostlos translates as "without comfort", but that too doesn't do it justice. The sound of the word conveys its melancholy, the two dark "O"s shaping the mouth into an expression of disappointed bewilderment.
Trostlos is subjective though. Here are some things I find trostlos:
faded garden fences
neatly cleaned street drains
the daily lives of 75% of, well, everyone.
Polka dots! Stripes! Rainbows! Brightness!
EVERYTHING IS AMAZING!!!
These days I live my life mainly with headphones on. It's pretty weird cuz I am more or less isolated from what's going on around me. I'd hear a fire alarm, but little else. Thunderstorms? Phonecalls? My neighbour knocking on my door to tell me to STOP WITH THE BAD SINGING ALREADY?! Nada.
She's only got herself to blame though. Serves her right for complaining about my music. That may have been louder than my singing, but at least it was in tune!
And I can hear her on the phone too.
"I want you to sit completely still, close your eyes and tell me what you feel. What do you hear? How does the ground feel? Look inside yourself. Is there an emotion? Describe it. Find me a noun! A colour! A temperature!"
My shrink had decided this weekend workshop would be good for me. To get in touch with myself. I spend too much time in my head you see. I must be fixed. This is why I am currently sitting on a beach with 20 people, trying to describe how I feel as a colour.
What can I say?
I'm afraid I don't have time to write anything of substance in here as I have just spent seven hours fighting fantasy creatures.
You see, I work for a company that makes MMOs, online computer games. I don't usually much care for computer games, nor MMOs or their games in particular... except I have just started massively (geddit?) obsessing over one of them. I played 90mins the first day... three hours yesterday... and nearly seven hours today. *sigh*
I hope I'll get bored of it soon cuz it's SUCH AN UNBELIEVABLE TIMESUCK! And so unproductive and uncreative.
BUT SO FUN!
I am cheating! I am writing this entry after I wrote the one that follows. For no particular reason except that I can do what I want! So this is Friday's entry and today is Sunday. Friday I still had the weekend ahead of me and now I don't. I'll never get that Friday back. Isn't the linearity of time a weird thing? I can walk somewhere and walk back, but I can never go back in time. Some believe the concept of time is a human construct. What isn't? If I close my eyes is the world still there?
Feel feel feel. Get a feel for the word feel. It's a sneaky word, a slimy word, a can't-hold-on-it's-slipping-out-of-my-grasp word. How can I ever win this battle?
Feel without thinking. As soon as you start putting it into words it is too late, the sensation is gone and the conceptualising begins. Everything becomes fake. Overthought. Overwrought.
Layers upon layers upon layers of words, like thick and viscous onion skin. Whether there is still an actual feeling underneath all those thoughts I cannot say, I haven't been down there in years.
Ding dong, the witch is dead. The phone hacking scandal in the UK is evolving beyond my wildest dreams!
- Andy Coulson arrested.
- The News of the World shut down.
- BSkyB bid withdrawn by News International.
- Rebekah Brooks (finally!) resigned.
- Public (if insincere) apology from Rupert Murdoch.
- Rebekah Brooks arrested (woo-hoo!).
- Met chief resigns.
What's next? Here is my wishlist:
- Cameron resigns (fat chance I know, but I didn't dare to hope for Brooks' arrest either).
- Legal action against NewsCorp in the US - oh yes!
- Rupert Murdoch
sprouts horns and a tail - now THAT would be fun!
Oh dear oh dear. I feel like the White Rabbit, I'm late, I'm laaaate, three entries behind, what ever shall I do? I turned one of my previous entries into a longer (albeit still incomplete) text though, which ia nice. I think.
It's cold again. I've turned the heating on. I don't care if it's July. Give me warmth!
I flooded my kitchen last week. And that of my downstairs neighbour too. Well, some small damp patches. Embarrassing enough anyway. Especially as she thought she had a burst pipe and turned her water off for a whole day. Oh dear.
Oh dear. The month is almost over and I am lagging. Well, five days behind now so really, on here I'm only half-way through.
Have I taken the opportunity to wax lyrical about Freddie Mercury yet? He was one of my first great loves, when I was around 15 or so. He'd only just died then. Hard to believe it'll be 20 years in November. *sigh*
At any rate, I am currently rather obsessed with him again. It's nice... so familiar. And God, what an amazing man he was. With an incredible voice! And sooo pretty! *swoon*
I could use one of these to complain about BT. British Telecom for you non-brits. Though I am already exhausted for all the complaining I have done. At any rate, they are utter, complete fuckers.
Long story short: I switched to O2 Broadband in May, and I noticed now that BT are still charging me too. I contacted them, and they said "according to our records you are still with us, so you prove otherwise."
There is absolutely NO attempt at any sort of customer
, their department should be renamed customer-fuckery. But oh well. Have written complaint.
This I write on a sad day of goodbyes. Words are the only tool I have at my disposal, at least for this, right now. You can't express sadness with a screwdriver (though you
express anger with a hammer).
I draw pictures sometimes, but never to express sadness. It just comes out all mangled and meaningless. Words though, they can help. Mostly.
I have been known to express my emotions through other means. Bad means. There is a reason why I have a tattoo on my wrist that says "Protect me from what I want".
I got my first sewing machine this week. I'm surprised to find I actually manage to use it, I used to have some sort of phobia and was convinced I couldn't sew straight. Turns out it's not really that hard at all.
Currently trying to finish a soft toy laptop I started (by hand) years ago. Am kinda stuck on sewing the bottom on, may have to return to doing that by hand.
My attempts at knitting aren't going so well though, I'm so incredibly clumsy and slow. I need to keep practising, but by God I lack the patience.
Amy Winehouse's death pains me greatly, though it is hardly surprising. Just last month after the Belgrade incident I wrote to a friend "I wonder how much longer [she] will make it" and that I hoped she'd make it through her wild years intact. She did not. :(
I'm really quite upset about this, though I was never that invested in her. But I know her demons and can imagine her struggles - it was so painful to watch, and it's so tragic it ended this way. A waste of a talent, certainly, but also a waste of a sad, young life.
Midnight. Do you remember being scared of it as a kid? I do. It was so rare that I'd be awake that late, I'd always be extra worried.
I also used to think the devil would get me if I didn't make it up the stairs quick enough. So weird. The devil! I didn't even believe in God anymore then, but apparently his boogeyman could still strike fear in me. I don't remember when that stopped.
Even now though, sometimes at night, very rarely, I suddenly think "oh God, what if I open the curtains and there's a monster outside?"
I think I'm in love with my character. I play an MMO you see. Oh, I've already said that. Well, the character I play is very pretty. Obviously I would say that, since I created her. She has green skin and red hair. Great choice! She also has the cutest ponytails, but you can't see those right now cuz she's wearing a hood.
I should be sewing though instead of playing. Or designing fish to paint on my bathroom wall. Or writing postcards. There are lots of things I could be doing that are more productive than playing an MMO.
I decided a rainbow would be a better choice for my bathroom wall than fish. I like rainbows. My bathroom rainbow is currenly drying. Orange, green and violet need a 2nd coat before it will be finished. Rainbows make everything better.
My grief about Amy Winehouse is currently turning into anger and resentment. Did she really have to go and fuck it all up? How dare she just DIE? The bloody cheek of taking the easy way out, etc. I know it's not terribly rational, but I can't help it.
I worked 8.5 hours today so need to sleep.
Tomorrow is our (compulsory) office summerparty. It involves bowling and winetasting. I
wait. Bowling is dreadfully boring, and winetasting is off limits (and frankly, a pretty disrespectful choice, if you ask me. Sure, choose a venue that offers alcohol if that's the office culture, but something that de facto excludes teetotalers? How lame!).
My colleague and I have already decided we will disappear into a corner with our knitting gear. Let the socialites socialise, as long as they leave the introverts in peace. I hate that it always seems like you have to apologise for not enjoying big gatherings.
I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you. Because I am a super-secret double agent, I've even forgotten myself who I owe allegiance to. So I'd kill you, whoever you are, just to be sure. I need everyone to be on edge. Whoever they are. If I don't kill them, they'll kill me. At least I think so. I've sort of lost track. Does it matter? Better be on the safe side. I'll be the last man standing! Or is it woman? Oh dear. This really is becoming a bit too much for me. I'm getting old.
3am, awake because a short nap earlier turned into six hours. I don't mind, it's the weekend and I can do whatever I please. I survived an exhausting day putting on my sociable face, pretty much hating every minute of it. My cute team lead told me she was proud of me though.
She's two years younger than me. Should that bother me? I don't know. Presumably unlike me she's not defective. Do I let my defectiveness define me? I have insufficient drive to try and overcome that which holds me back. Or am I being too hard on myself?
It is hot, but I am not allowed to complain because I complain copiously when it is not hot. SO! I'm enjoying the heat! So are tons of other people clogging up the town.
I hate dust. It gets everywhere. I thoroughly dusted my whole flat just three weeks ago, and it's basically the same as before. Why even bother? Just let it accumulate.
Alright. Now I need a third point to talk about but I can't think of one. I have much to do this weekend: writing letters and postcards, sewing, knitting, watching two films and visiting my friend.
Last day of the month and so far it's been a good one. Does that have any significance? The rest of the month will be the same as the last day?
Oh, right, that's pretty useless, and also demonstrably wrong because weather-wise at least, the rest of July has been fairly crappy.
I should be outside enjoying the sun. I could do with a nap. Naps are amazing. We're in a mini-heatwave apparently, or at least that's what our local paper says. Two days of mid-twenties passes as a heatwave here. Shows you how desperate we've become.
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