Feeling so shit lately, man. Writing feels hard and pointless. Maybe because I don’t have a reader. But the machine can just do it all, can’t it? The whole system that we plug into that isn’t real that swallows up human endeavour and experience.
feelin no defeat cos we were ready to ignite the sky it was the first time that I had the time of my life
Embrace the chaos and just write. Maybe that’s what we need to do and just write write write write write write. I haven’t done a fucking thing on my website in ages. When was the last published piece? 7 October. So a couple of weeks. Incredible how time passes so quickly. I’ve got some stuff I could push now, I guess. Will need to review it first thought.
Yeah nah looking at what I’ve done I don’t think I will be posting both of those two other things I’ve written in the intervening weeks. One was just whining but the one where I was sitting on the couch playing chess might be fine for public consumption.
So there we go, this one plus the one from a couple of days ago makes two blog posts. Not too shabby. Now what? I guess I could get on with filling out the publication tracker. Maybe submit a few more of them. Might need to also make sure I’m keeping those receipts for submission because in theory at least its meant to be about earning income somewhere along the way.
there is still something kind of magical about words, even if I feel like writing serves no purpose.
Two examples: the law and computer code.
Listening to the new Amyl and the Sniffers album Cartoon Darkness. Tops start to it with ‘Jerkin’’: You’re a dumb cunt, you’re an arsehole. This is great. Proper punk. Fully articulate and angry. Relentless, uncomplicated riff.
Fuck I heaps don’t want to have to do work though. I just want to while away the time but I can’t. I have to like function and stuff.