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13 Apr 2012
Post 343: Oldskool and trying hard but hopefully not an old-fashioned try hard
Another week where I’m not too sure what on earth to write about, it’s small wonder I’m not achieving ‘internet’ style growth in visitor numbers
, well I’m not really trying to, the hope is to get a core readership who I hope are ‘my friends’, not the disturbing practice of genuinely believing that people you’ve never met before but have interacted with on the internet are your ‘actual friends’.
I hope that these people don’t get too bored of the dross I write here because I hope they’re genuinely a little bit interested in what I have to say and in how I’m doing. Any increase in visitor numbers either comes from people who either just happen across it, a bit like the way you step in dogsh*t, or more disturbingly there are people out there who actually look for dogsh*t, you know who you are!
Anyway, enough of the hilarious doggydoo metaphor. I just want to make it clear how hard you have to try when your brain has categorically and catastrophically let you down. This is the only way I’m ever going to see it I’m afraid –even though I’ve met people I wouldn’t have otherwise met, no-one is worth being disabled for life for, seriously, ask yourself that question – I’d sooner give my life for someone I really cared about (ie I’d die for them) than be like this, yep, I’m 100% positive about that. Things were fine and I had no reason to think this would or could happen. Next week, assuming I survive this procedure on Tuesday, although I assume nothing these days because you know what they say about assumption and f*ck-ups, blah, blah.
I think the week after, I’m going to have a go at a writing course again. This time rather than it being a banal internet writing course it is class based and seems to involve real people, and is possible because my Carer Gary can actually drive me to it when it’s on(it’s down the road in Esher). I figure that sitting in a classroom, surrounded by real people listening to a real person will focus the mind more than sitting in front of a computer screen and typing into a word document, ok, so it is somewhat ironic that maybe that’s the long term plan but right now I have neither the energy, inspiration or motivation which I’ll obviously be awash with after a couple of classes on this course! Oh me of too much faith! That’s not an expression I thought I’d ever use...
So I guess this blog should be about reacting to things that have happened in the last week either to me or in the world? Something you would have thought I’d know by now, I’ve only been writing this f*cking thing for four years. I draw your attention to my earlier comment about assumption and f*ck ups. I do try and keep profanity to a minimum but don’t always succeed.
Perhaps try is the wrong word. Perhaps I shouldn’t write this but the world treats me like a loser and this ties in with my last post on entitlement, even though I don’t feel like the world owes me anything, I FEEL ENTITLED NOT TO BE TREATED LIKE A LOSER. I believe passionately in reward for effort (one of the few things I believe in passionately, because people who say they’re passionate about things often turn out to be nutters), someone who’s definitely not a nutter and isn’t treating me like a loser hermit is my old college mate Sally, who popped in with her kids last week.
People who make time for me like this make me feel like a proper person, if people didn’t do this I’d feel worse than I already do. I hate to feel like I’m ‘guilting’ people out here but sick people have been doing this sh*t for years and I’m no exception!
Apart from refreshing honesty, I’m pretty mainstream these days because I have to be, ie the types of venues I have to go to for everything from lunch to the latest concerts to what I watch on TV –not that I was ever quirky. To be quirky takes energy, which I don’t have, and even when I had energy I didn’t believe in wasting it on things I didn’t really believe in plus Quirkyness is the first step to weirdness, and even though difference is a good thing, people who try to be different for the sake of being different are c*nts. I’ve often gone on about how I’ve no time for weirdness, which is ironic considering I’m a weird looking and sounding person now. I remember many years ago, for a bit of a laugh going to the torture garden
at a dreadful place in Brixton called Mass. A bizarre converted church,
It was frankly a scary experience – not once would I question people’s right to do that but after I saw a guy about my dad’s age walking around in a chainmail jockstrap and nothing else asking people to spank him I decided, there’s difference and there’s weirdness, one is ok, and I’m not into the other. As humans, we like things at the edge of our senses and abilities, it’s why we drink too much, stay up late, love being in love, love making love, laugh maniacally, like making people happy – it’s why I go to concerts, it’s why I organise get-togethers. This is my attempt at having some sort of life and refusing to ‘go quietly’, it’s why I loved going to see Orbital
on Tuesday at the Albert Hall which doesn’t really make sense. How a pioneering 80s electronic music outfit apparently named after the fact that the M25 was the London ‘Orbital’,
ie the road where all the original ‘raves in fields’ were, that these clowns should now be playing at possibly the most mainstream venue on the planet was strange in itself, but it was pretty full too, full of plenty of casualties from those raves, people whom the worst thing that has happened has been to lose some hair. It was verging on a spiritual experience, in this beautiful room with my mate Oli who has made a lot of my post stroke concert going possible (he took this video)), and my mate Dom, who I’ve known for 25 years.
Dom told me the best gag ' must be odd for them not playing a gig in a field that wasn't announced until 30 minutes before starting with two hours of power problems'. Genius! I’ve booked this morning to go to their Brixton Academy gig on the 14th December. I hope there are takers?