This is the first post since my first week at college/school/uni/class whatever you might call it. As such it is rather stunted and jumpy, the words are not pouring out my fingers like liquid through spouts, my head it not connected to them. It's thinking too much about the words, about what I'm saying, about what I intend, and what I must sound like. It was the same when I was recording the diaries, and I caught myself up, recording things I said yesterday , knowing whatever I wrote now would be recorded tonight. The reality catches up and you don't know what to say. The evidence and proof of your greatness is right HERE, a step ahead of each word, laying out a red carpet for the talent to walk out on...
This post isn't saying anything. I am tired. I will write tomorrow with more to say. I should perhaps make it a bit more regular. Maybe regularity isn't right, as once a year is still regular. I just didn't want the blog to be a catharsis, to be similar to the diaries, introverted and letting pessimistic thoughts stopping optimistic things happening. I wanted it to be about commenting on things, musing on things that I think and see. A way of words. But closes are difficult, work stops my head, stops new thought, makes everything chronic. Latte today latte tomorrow, still just a fucking latte. No invention. Not one interesting thing happened at work today except my lunch. The chicken stock just made it glisten. That dinner was multi-generational, pretty cool. But it's a sad day when the best thing about it was your lunch.
I need to stay cool, and remember what makes me me, why I am unique, why I am not a cliche. It's been difficult as I've always been outside a group, then all of a sudden I am amongst haircuts and glasses on bikes and I'm living the trend. I guess you just have to make sure you're on the wave rather than trailing it. Difficult. To be individual, but also be stimulated by things that are ever-so-close to you, a degree away. You can't have any fun in a vacuum, but in a room full of people like yourself where would the excitement be? You wouldn't speak, just communicate my winks and osmosis. (I think I'm tired). So I'm worrying now that until I do a bad post (take this one for instance) I'll forever be thinking, 'oh this one is gonna let me down). So now I've done a crap one I can prove it's ok and doesn't mean anything. It reminds me of a sign I saw in a barbers in Soho that said
"You're only as good as your last haircut."