and careers for creative and unconventional people. unfortunately both are half read and not really helping me much, especially when they start telling me to write stuff down like happy memories, like three things that made you happy today like 'having a relaxing bath with candles' or something equally boring.
i mean ultimately they are probably good and i suppose they aim to make you change bad habits and think better of yourself, but they are as said, mainly unread. the one about careers is good but still leads you down a garden path and straight back to Sainsbury's checkout.
this blog is really rather hastily becoming a substitute counselor, i clearly am issued-out to the max.
i just had a car ride in the dark first listening to radio 1 mad new music which just makes you feel like you have taken drugs and then classic FM which had mylene class(y) -or so i reckon she wishes-and her sultry tones nearly making me crash my car. i was driving when feeling very thoughtful. or maybe i was feeling depressed.
i guess that's why this is called round and round in circles as i feel like a sodding hamster on a wheel. round and sodding round.
it doesn't help that i have a son on the verge of unadulterated teenage angst. i mean i think i have been arrested developmentally; i am still, i am sure, trapped in the confused and messed up mind of my 14 year onward self; each fucked up year playing intermittently and simultaneously over and over, my insecurities and angstness tripping me up day after day. i mean i still hanker after nirvana and the throes of agonised self fucked up ness.
so how in gods name i am equipped to deal with a real teenager, god only knows.
i am 4 5ths through a bottle of relatively cheap white wine while feeling fairly sober.
on my sunless car ride i thought of how things change and how things stay the same.
i mean i passed the same pub in Blackheath that my uncle would peruse in days gone by.
in those days it would be littered with people smoking and wizenly drinking and laughing and forgetting tomorrow.
the pub is still there but my uncle is miles away in a little box room with vascular dementia.
it was my world he inhabited, my uncle, who drank to much or so they'd say. the pub is still there, he is far away.
or passing the amersham arms, New Cross, me in my car gazing out.
it was surrounded by me's and my old friends, and boys i went to college with; and older guys looking for a young chick. they were all still there, chatting. loud chatting noises signifying nothing. like yesterday i was there outside smoking, unsure, excited,. but i have swapped places. i pass by in my car and watch my ghosts, my friends, our ghosts stand outside and laugh and smoke with the young night.
today i chanced upon kubla khan by SAM Coleridge and i love the bit :
in Xanadu did kubla khan
a stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
i love that sunless sea bit. i kind of hate and love that poem. it is so fantastical, it hurts in its unrealness.
anyway the rest of the poem bores me a bit and reminds me of degree in English literature. but i like the first bit. nuff said.
really, i like the long extended rhythm of that there verse. and i love the penultimute line about massive caverns - somehow this makes it beyond our measure and thus fantastic. but my fave bit is the simple 'down to a sunless sea'
i love that 'a' sunless sea. Coleridge so simply creates an eerie, dark, dangerous and mystical dreamlike sea just by saying sunless and a bit more.
any way, fact is, i love humanity, i love art, i love music, i love the moment. i hate stagnancy, i love being. i like old people cos hey are still here one foot in one foot out. i love stufff. but yet i can't find my place where i got to be.
p.s. i am reading the color purple by Alice walker and i like it very much.
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