Yay, it's April! Well, OK, in my room it's April...
I probably shouldn't have bought a Dali calendar.
OK, fine - I only just turned it over from March.
Seriously, I don't 'get' calendars. I mean, the pictures do really brighten up the place - of course they do - except... then there all those ugly numbers hanging off the end of them. Which, I suppose, would be fine, if I'd ever been able to find much use for them.
Should probably just buy more posters...
It just occurred to me how mad scriptwriting is. Essentially, I've spent the best part of the last two days arguing with myself whilst pretending to be about twelve different people, one of whom is God. That can't be good for a person. I'm just glad there's a bloc meeting tomorrow. It might mean lots of tedious faffing over commas and such like, but at least I'll finally be able to talk to someone who isn't fictional, again. Or who isn't me.
Wait, does that mean I'm fictional?
Oh, never mind. I doubt I could tell the difference right now anyway.
Now back to that script...
Random philosophical poser: If you're talking to yourself, and there's no-one there to hear it, does that mean you don't exist?
Following on from my comments below about writing having most probably had quite a significant role in keeping me on the write* side of sanity - i.e. because it was in writing that I actually got to see and express my true self, and see it as having any real substance - I was reminded of certain writing exercises I undertook earlier this year, ones in which I was doing quite the opposite of all that self-expression stuff I just said. In other words:
See! I told you Resnick was bad for my mental health!
And let that be the last time that name ever appears on this blog.
In other news: four days :)
*That does seem the most accurate way of putting it.
I've been feeling happy. For two days in succession. No, wait, come back, you haven't got the wrong blog...
Are you still there?
OK, then.
Anyway, it's good, isn't it?
Um, that was all :)
UPDATE: Listening to this rather a lot today (still Thursday). Erm, looking at the lyrics (freedom, bold new world, etc.), I wonder if Nina Simone might have been thinking more about the recent(ish) passing of the 1964 Civil Rights Act as she sung that chorus...? But anyway.
Hmm...
Happy songs? Singing? What's wrong with me?
Oh yeah: suddenly, nothing much :)
[Contented sigh...]
[LOUDLY, AS IF IN SUDDEN REALISATION] "Yeah, Yan's mum might want me to have one lopsided boob."
I was thinking about procrastination earlier*.
Not 4'33" was pure procrastination. I started it when I'd taken a few days off (five, if you include the weekend) to get something together to send off with my application for the MA. I did nothing; I just wrote the blog. Then I ended up including a link to it as part of the application. Why not, I thought, people seemed to like it.
Once I'd been on the course for a few weeks, I was told that the blog had clinched my acceptance onto the course.
[Sighs] And I wonder why I have a procrastination problem...
*Meta-procrastination?
Seeing as I seem to have absolutely no ideas or inspiration at the moment, I thought I'd write a blogpost ([sighs] well, that could have been better phrased for a start...). Perhaps that'll get the creative juices flowing (oh, and now we have cliché - this is really going well).
So what to write about?
Erm, I could find out what's going on in the world, I suppose...
[Briefly goes a-googling]
Well, that was mostly depressing. Still, if you're a machete wielding thug, now might be a good time to head to Nigeria to stock up on supplies. Erm, you probably aren't, though, are you, so never mind [Note to self: install that Statcounter thingy].
OK, having entirely comprehensively (and there we have tautology...) covered what is going on in the world, I guess I could write about what's not going on in the world...
Well, I don't think anywhere a feather is being scraped across the strings of a violin, at just this moment, in anticipation of the most pleasing musical note ever to be experienced by the human ear perhaps being sounded. Or for that matter, with any similar intention, a violin being scraped across a feather. Now, violas, on the other hand...
No, it's no good, I just can't write today. I mean, violins and feathers! So that's contrived wackiness I can add to the list of reasons why this blogpost is rubbish... And, now I think about it, it wasn't even well contrived. I mean, there's a certain sense to something beautiful like a feather being used in an attempt to emit a beautiful sound. Still, I suppose at least I didn't resort to ukuleles. Whatever that means...
[Argues with self for a while...]
Hello, this is the winner of the aforementioned argument. I haven't really got anything useful to say either. I just happened to be slightly bigger. Which is, perhaps, why I've never had to think of anything useful to say before... Ooh, moment of horrible self-realisation - I've basically just spent my life imposing my will on others through the exercise of sheer brute force, haven't I? That wasn't nice. Erm, the moment of self-realisation, not the beating people. I mean, it involved thinking. I didn't become bigger than other people so I'd have to think, Godammit!
Oh, but wait, I am a thought... [disappears in a puff of paradox].
Ah, good, has he gone?
Oh, wait, that leaves me to write the rest of this nonsense.
Tum-te-tum...
Erm, yep.
Right, then.
[Sighs] You know, I think I might just go to bed...
