* Themes
random funny shit
Stuff I did
Stuff I think
|
more words with other words with occasional sentences
Hello big blank blind eye of the internet, who sees everything, knows nothing but believes very strongly in its own correctness and the relevance of hitler and kittens.
To recap; I am attempting to regain the habit of writing. baby steps are beyond me, more like a blind kitten scrabbling for a drooping teat on the sore, swollen belly of the overbred pedigree bitch in one of those terrifying alleyways off Elephant and castle with the sad signs promising 'kitens' and 'puppys'. I don't know which is the sadder option; that unwilling animals are having babies forced out of them until their dugs scrape the ground the few times they're allowed to stand, or the signs are a lie to tempt in poor kids desperate for a dog only to find themselves robbed and running for their lives. at best. It's probably some kind of unhealthy combination.
yes to overblown metaphors and rants! that's a good hundred words there. ok, not good. but it is words, or they are words. fuck.
Avatar is excellent, you (oh unblinking one) should see it. I actually saw the point of the 3D. I felt the indulgent first half hour or so and skeleton plot were favourable aspects. The violence was fun but the real joy is in the exploration of a frankly beautiful alien world. It did seem to have the beautiful strange world cliches; opulent bioluminescence, gravity flux producing floating mountains, small dragon-like things to ride. All of which are common in my own little fantastical creations. I think since reading more Alan Moore and watching more Dr Who my little fantasy worlds have become smaller, more human and, frankly, cheaper to depict. This was a wake-up call, which is nice.
|
|
|
o hai
Once more I have slipped from The Way into the warm froth of lazy habits known variously as the slough of despond, unemployment, or plain laziness and have to get back in the habit of putting one word after another; painstakingly and -hopefully- without a superfluity of cliches. Urgh, even that opener is despicable. No rhythm, no structure, no originality and no regard for the most basic of rules; say the one of three, for example.
OK, so major problem facing me right now is that I can make startling sci-fi worlds, scenarios, characters, at the drop of a helmet, yet I can't get plots. or not good ones, anyway. so mayhap I'll try collecting and rewriting fairytales again. heck, it's what shakespeare did, so there's no shame in it.
nice talking to you, cold cruel world. We will speak again shortly, I swear it by booze and chips.
|
|
|
|
so, finding a new layout of this thing has proved to be a procrastination excercise of oceanic proportions. If making tea is a tuna and checking webcomics is an ungainly porpoise, and if a whole night activity like poker or a pub visit are represented as Sperm whales, then I would say with some confidence that looking and laughing at the "layout dealer" section (basically Goth kids let loose with HTML) was probably a Orca, or possibly a right whale.
So, I have exams in seven days. THis time next week I'll be in exam schools answering (or rather- failing to answer) a question on literary theory. Doesn't sound so bad? Well, I hate that topic with a passion as both a concept and in actuality. It's so pointless, self-indulgent and easy. But easy in a 'anyone could do it' rather than a satisfying way. And of course it means the markign is entirely subjective and doing horrifically badly is a real possibility.
meh.
in other news, I have a livejournal. I don't read or use it, preferring, as I do, the structured and anonymous nature of 20six. Livejournal is all about community. Sorry- what? I went online to AVOID people. Why are you making me interact with them?
In activity terms, things are cool. I've worked a little bit in the last few days. Not much, but a bit. I will pass these exams, possibly (ie, if I work like a bitch) with flying colours, possibly (ie if I continue in the current vein) with limp, crappy colours like 'off-white' and 'maroon.
I really want these exams to be over, not because I'm scared but because i want time for fun things. The long vac will be drawn out and empty, but if I get my arse in gear also peppered intermittently wiht interesting projects. And a job. maybe.
|
|
|
On being dumped, life, and active happiness
Hey there, chaps and chapesses
(btw, that’s an OULES reference you’ll get if you come to my
play in Oxford,
Wadham college, Moser theatre, 7.30 on Tuesday 7th March)
I would like to rather belatedly discuss the three topics
above. I say belatedly, coz it’s a good three weeks since I got dumped. A
summary of that, then, is that Rob is a wonderful guy, but crap as a boyfriend
and succeeded in making me utterly miserable for the last 3 weeks of the
relationship before I had the conversation all my mates kept telling me to have
with him. I told him to stop being a bastard or sod off and he decide, in
short, to sod off. I’ll be honest, I cried. I was devastated for ten minutes, but
then went out and had one the best night’s I’d had for a month, with hugs from
multiple mates, a visit to a board-game party, a trip to the all-night
ice-cream place, and a chat till three am on racism in America. It doesn’t
sound like much, but it was awesome to see how many people genuinely cared
about me, how people liked spending time with me, I could cheer up people who
felt worse than me and how life could actually be so much fun. Wonderful, in fact.
So, skipping straight to my third topic, I have realised
that, if only for a short time perhaps (though maybe forever- let’s hope) all
those things which I saw as the great horrors of life; the migraines, the fear
of the return of the ten-year migraine, the swings into bleak depression, the
sneaking suspicion my whole life that I’m really quite dull to hang around
with, end up turning into a pretty damn good feeling. I wake up every morning
and think “I’m not in any pain, I’m not wallowing in irrational despair, I’m
not alone” and smile. And that smile stays with me all day. Perhap’s it’s true-
one only appreciates stuff when one has gone without it. To a very small
extent, considering the pain suffered by many in the world, I’ve known a share
of pain, despair and rejection (and no, I don’t really count being dumped by
some boy I dated for 3 months a great rejection. There were other things, they
are long stories.) It all means I’m appreciating what I’ve got now. It’s almost
made better by the knowledge that it won’t last and I’ll swing into depression
in a few months time. The occasional recurrence of biting self-loathing simply
makes me happier at other times.
It’s so good. One is only supposed to recognise happiness in
retrospect, but now it’s right there in front of me. :-D
This feeling is all the more ridiculous when I think
heck, I’m not doing that well in my course, my tutor’s disappointed in me, I’m
not managing to cope with all my responsibilities in the various positions I’ve
taken up and the last two boys I’ve showed interest in have rejected me rather
coldly. But you know what, it doesn’t matter. Coz I’ve achieved what I never
thought I could. I’m happy in my own skin and I’m doing the best I can at
everything I try, and for the first time in my entire life I’m sleeping well.
|
|
|
Rage.
mm. yes. me. I who so rarely feel or show any emotion particularly vehemently am at this moment so filled with anger that the next person who walks into this room, if they do not recieve the punch in their big fat fucking face directly, will at least get a big one right on jaw in my mind.
GAH! fucking phone companies who fucking well say they'll only send your nice new phone to your invoice address, meaning I won't get it for another fucking week. I actually want to scream.
On a different topic, what a satisfying swear word 'fucking' is. bloody, damn, bastard just don't do the same thing. calling orange a fucking pernicious waste of fucking space who I wish could get fucked up just like they've fucked me over is such a better representation of my feelings towards them than say, calling them a 'bunch of bloody bastards' though it's alliterative and rhythemic values are much higher. How odd. perhaps it's because it's got those lovely fricative sounds, with the nice clucking 'g' sounds which take advantage of the angry speaker's tense jaw.
but yes. I am angry. this is a strange new feeling, and especially strange in that it comes in relation to something I had always thought I wasn't concerned about- namely material possesions in general and mobile phones in particular.
How revelatory.
Lydia
|
|
|
|
I think this entry will end up being short. ((edit- my mistake ;-D )
To be honest Im getting a
little nervous that 20six will close my account if I leave too large a
gap between postings. I shouldn't be typing this at all, since Im
actually into minus time with my vac work now. (I have two days to read
200 pages of Portrait of a Lady, write 3,000 words in an essay on
Ulysses-which I still haven't finished reading- and translate another
10 lines of Old English). One would assume that I put it all off to the
last minute. but I damn well didn't. I've been working since the
holiday began. Im just inefficient and slow.
Anyway. The point of writing this when there is so much more stuff I
should be doing. (aside from the work I need to send off sponsorship
letters for money for going to Africa, and learning lines for a
call-back), is that I have realised what is the root of all my
character flaws.
I am such a fucking coward.
I know it doesn't sound much. but goddamn. Im scared of everything.
getting beaten up, sure- normal, spiders- picked that up a few years
ago and trying to get over it but still normal, authority-well it's the
moralistic, straight, christian upbringing that'll do that to you. But
those aren't the biggies. Them, I can handle. The life altering one is
the fear of failure.
I've realised from a large number of recent conversations what a big
deal this is for older siblings. If you're stereotyped into 'the
talented one' or 'the bright one' early on, you develop this enormous,
soul-gnawing terror of failure. If a normal person fails, that's a kick
in the teeth. if one of us-Im assuming there's a group of headcases
like me out there- fails we loose our entire identity. I'm determined
to get over this, coz it triggers these miserable angsty episodes that
are the thing I most hate about myself. All my mates know I can't
handle idleness, well. same root. That's all coz I'm failing to do
anything amazing.
Most recent example of this was just this morning. You see, Ed (thats
my little brother I dont mention much) has picked up a guitar and is
learning to play. This development is but a day old, so don't expect
him to be knocking out Satisfaction any time soon, but still. It's
something I'd wanted to vaguely do, and never did, and now he's doing
it. So- I got scared. My insecurity was such that had to nick it
and learn a chord in the 2 minutes he popped out to make a sandwich.
But Im not beyond redemption. I realised what I was doing, (trying to
prove to myself I could have been better than him if I'd tried) and
when he came back, made a big show of not being able to do it, and made
him chuckle. he has a lovely chuckle :-) I've realised that I'm too insecure/lazy to start most of the
things I want to do, but just coz other people are managing it, I
shouldnt get hysterically insecure and stop them.
mm. I spose the problem is I see the big picture and get terrified. you
know. by the size of the picture. It's big. neccessarily so. but once
you notice that, it gets scary. you think "It'll take years to watch
all the great films, so I won't bother trying to watch a couple" or
"there are hundreds of guitar chords, so why bother learning one?" or
"this poem will take weeks to perfect, why bother starting?" and of
course "eventually all relationships fizzle out. why bother sticking
with any particular one?" I can manage plays, cos they have a
definitive end. I can manage books, coz they also have that end point.
But I'll never learn an instrument or write a play/poem/novel. too much
of a coward.
I spose the oxford thing is an exception there though. coz I read like
a bitch to get up to my idea of "the proper standard" I took a risk
there...and I spose it paid off. Maybe one day I'll manage another one.
there's always hope :-)
|
|
|
life in foreign parts
Oxford is very busy. business is not condusive to blogging, thus I have not blogged.
urm... in very, very, very short. I am coping with the work, I'm having
a easonable amount of fun. as in, enough to be happy, but not too much
so I collapse with the sleep-lack. people here are generally pretty
fun. I like my course, but don't love it. my tutors are cool. as in,
one is very cool and one is terrible, but it averages out.
Things that may be relevant. hmm. Had a conversation with Mark yesterday
(twas his birthday) about people changing when they came here, people
changing since we've been here( feels like a lifetime and an instant at
once) and about working out how to be the real, old you in a group of
totally new people. More surrealness came when I got a film developed
that I had found knocking about my room when I popped back to London
(no, sorry people, was for a funeral, and had not a single spare minute
for visits). turned out to be of Reading. it was weird seeing people
again. how much difference a month makes. especially when more happens
in each of the days than in three or four normal ones. for instance, by
10 am today, I'd done 2 hours rowing, had a shower, a very interesting
gossip, attended a lecture and made an appointment for dinner
with chums. Back home I'd still be in bed by that time. And I know for
a fact I'll be up until at least 2 tonight. so much more may occur.
As for contacting me, if only to assure yourself that knowing me
wasn't just a memory, I know I havn't been on messenger, but I reply to
emails very
quickly. This place runs on it. honestly, they'll send you an email at
6 telling you to meet at 6.30 and be pissed off if you don't turn up.
So, if I have a free second, I may reply within minutes. otherwise I
may put it off for a geological age until I have a
spare moment (HAH!) from work, rehearsals, rowing, and reminding other
people around
here of my existence. it's a risk you're going to have to take. If you
don't have my address, email me through this site, I've changed it so
it'll send stuff to my new email addy.
Sorry this can't be long or tell you anything very much, but I won't
let it become a serious procrastination exercise. I am actually going
to do some work now. Ok, thats kinda a lie. but I will open word, and
maybe even write a title. though in all honesty, thats probably
stretching it a bit.
Miss y'all.
Lyds
p.s. feel free to pop up here any day from thursday til monday. tuesday
to thursday midday are my desperatly trying to do essays days.
particularly fun days are thursday, friday, saturday and most sundays.
|
|
|
[next page]
|
