Friday 4 March 2011

I always had a repulsive need to be something more than human

First things, first...

I am not expecting people to give a crap about anything I say, write or do.

I am not the owner of the monopoly on fandoms, illness, recovery, bands, songs, shows, people or anything else I write about.

I am not on a mission to enlighten, save or inspire.

I am not on a mission to upset, offend or hurt.

Okay, so, what’s the fucking point? Why am I suddenly talking like a pretentious twat? I don’t actually know to be honest, but a part of me has suddenly decided that spending time writing in a vaguely considered and careful manner about life, the universe and everything is a lot better than sitting around waiting for the poetic muse to descend. Ideally, I would be drinking tea with Oscar Wilde, constantly wasted on absinthe and writing fifty eloquent, insightful poems a day. Unfortunately, I’m a little too late for the tea-drinking, decent absinthe isn’t for sale in Tesco Metro and I average a couple of poems a month, none of which are remotely insightful or eloquent.

I’m incredibly lazy when it comes to ‘creative writing’, I hate forcing it, I hate editing, I hate writing to please other people (mainly because I hate people, but that’s not the point!) and I really hate writing ‘for the sake of it.’ Deep down, I know that I should sit in front of a blank screen for hours, tearing up paper and agonising over commas; but there are DVD box sets to get through and gigs to go to.

I do need to write, though, and I've really enjoyed the occasional writing for awarness weeks/days I've done over the last year, so I have come to the conclusion that if I start to take this whole ‘blogging’ thing a bit more seriously and regularly, and not just off-load/moan, then maybe it will fill my time a little more productively than endless ‘IT Crowd’ marathons and backcombing.

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