Wednesday, 27 May 2009

Hope for

I had determined not to love. Do you know why? Because everything I loved, I felt I lost. It fell away. I was rejected A LOT. So why care? We all die anyway? What's the point of tears? Who hears them? Unless.. you assume the case of a God. I do.. or did. Hmm , yes, but then... I felt rejected. So.. who cares? Not me, or... yes, actually, I do. I care a flipping lot ACTUALLY. As Freddy Mercury said " too much love WILL kill you everytime"- so why care? What's the point, unless we assume there is something to hope for? As the Bible says " Hope does not dissappoint". It is the hopeless that are empty of their dreams and ambitions. Think of The Neverending Story, where it states " people who have lost their dreams are easy to control". So,... who is your hope?

Tuesday, 26 May 2009


OK, I just deleted the last post, by accident. I don't really work on command or by sticking a camera in front of me so that I start singing ( YouTube). I like to mean something, which is why I make strange jokes most of the time, so that I don't have to!

I was just thinking about when I was at University and I joined a writer's workshop. We would have a word and then have several minutes to write whatever we wanted to as long as we got the word in ( if my memory does me right). I enjoyed it....

This is going to be completely random ( well not completely because there is always some reason in the universe), anyway....

I've really not got to care that you'll make fun of soft, sensitive me. Yes, I am. And in case you are wondering I'm the grumpy person who comes to the till, when shopping. Anyway...

EXERCISE 1: Random word, sitting on Paul's desk


There was a fight club on the corner. I'd never been in there but I had some pent up aggression that I thought was worth exfoliating on a willing victim. Hmmm... who could I ask? Maybe Patrick he was my golden retriever..hmmm, but I didn't think that they let in dogs. Anyway, so I decided to venture inside the building, a semi detached house, in Houndslow- ou excitement. Ben ( that was his name, he had a name tag- said it all, really). He was smiling too, with a relaxed expression. It was at this point that I wondered if all the people inside were on drugs. Oh yeah!-Fighting that's a drug.
" Heya..."
"Hello... I'm just looking around"
" That's cool, have a look...", Ben smiled and walked off. Yes, I thought, I have been left alone to wonder, I don't tend to be left alone in some shops to browse, and then they wonder why they have no customers. Hmm... people like to have a choice. Ok, so people are actually here because they want to be. I may want to be. Let's have a look. Hmm... there's a girl in black leggings, with dark, straight hair and a fit body in the corner kicking a punch bag. Hmmm, not for me then, I'm a bit smaller and less attractive. I don't want that sort of competition. Ben was quite fit, ah yes, probably married. I should have checked.



Curtains are for hiding windows, portals, to the soul. To withold from the audience what the author is really thinking. A story is like this, it cloaks itself, tied away from the constrants of the audience's minds, it finds true expression, in a medium that is not truly in itself well known or accomplished, until the curtain parts the seas, the stage, and the revealing commences. It is still in this sense a disguise and a diversion, a metaphor for thoughts that can only be expressed in the imagination.