Friday Time Shift

The beauty with the Internet is that you don’t have to press ‘Publish’ as soon as you have a great idea. There are mechanics in place to allow you to schedule stuff. They’ll also tell you that your posts should have original titles to make it easier for your readership to identify your subject matter. Screw that this early in the game. I’m not here to make this easy :P

When I dived back into this process I had an idea in the back of my mind that writing as therapy really did work. In the end however I realised that the aspect that was helping me wasn’t actually the words per se, but was more to do with setting a realistic time scale to do things.  I’m still really struggling with fitting the domestic into this equation, for instance, but that’s been something I’m now trying to slowly chip a way into with a small measure of success. It’s all baby steps in the end, and then when you screw everything up not allowing yourself to go too many spaces back and undo all the good work you’ve created. So this blog experiment covers the cracks that the other two don’t fill, because sometimes it is about the stuff that occupies your mind with greater significance than that picture of cake or that .gif you can’t stop looking at.

What I’m hoping will happen by giving my brain a place to just exist and not have to work to a format is to free up some of the kinks in my other creative processes. I’ll talk about the other stuff I do here undoubtedly (because I’m not an idiot, I get how everything interleaves) but not with the focus they have in the spaces they belong in. This is for when I kick back and try to actually make myself explain why all this does what it does when it all gets stuck together. That is probably a lot more woolly than it needs to be, but I’ve moved past the point where just describing my days is sufficient. There’s too much in everything to ignore any more.

I want a place to be in where I am the only expectation.

That’s why the two times I’ve advertised this place is all it gets to everyone else in my current spheres. I’m not doing this as an exercise in personal focus. Its about breaking myself apart and having the nerve to talk about what I find, which I can’t now do in the other places I inhabit. It’s the Blogging I should have done a decade ago when I first flirted with what it was I wanted to gain from talking about how I deal with my mental issues. Mostly, I just want to type words and see where they take me, without a structure or a plan, because doing this is a freedom I’ve never felt anywhere else. it is a liberation from the realisation that everything else has a plan now, and actually I like it when I’m not thinking about the next thing to do.

Some days, it just needs to be me and the words.

Friday Time Shift

Thursday Morning

I get an immense amount of satisfaction deleting four plus years of my life where I realise I wasn’t being honest with myself.

I blogged for a very long time out of a sense of misguided obligation. I know this now looking back on what I’ve done and how it panned out: as if you had to sometimes just say something to allow the World to know you existed. Talking into a larger space than your head is important, but not nearly as significant as what you then decide to say. Looking back on the posts that vanished I know this place was a foundation for what I am now becoming; a fully-fledged writer, who is not afraid to be what they are any more. I was scared for a VERY long time, and although I do still have the moments where I want to run away and hide in a corner, I understand that never helps anyone in the end.

The mundane is what you build your foundations upon.

In the last three months I’ve taken some significant steps out of my comfort zone, but the journey is still very fresh and new, and that makes me nervous. However, the only way you make progress is with continuous forward motion. There is a great deal in my private life I still hold very close to my chest, but what I miss in the other places I write in (and I realise this now after six years of dedicating myself pretty much exclusively to one subject matter) is the use of this voice. I speak in different ways, I now grasp. This one is quite separate to the other two I’m using at present (gaming writer, fiction writer) and it actually demands more attention on certain days than others. My problem before was quite simple: I’d assume every part of the process needed to be vocalised, and it doesn’t. You need to pick the right moment and the correct accompaniment.

This is my emotional voice. This is what I am when nobody else is watching.

Therefore it might seem odd to want to let it have a space of its own, but I realise I’ve actually wanted to do that since I started Livejournalling a VERY long time ago. That account I bought back in the day and I suspect, some time in the next month or so, I’ll go back to the site and delete that forever too. I don’t remember a lot of the last decade in glowing terms, and before that even less so, but what I’m not afraid to do now is go back to the places where I was a bad person and admit my failings. Of course, it won’t change a single thing. That’s not the point. I’m not after salvation or validation or anything else. I’m just doing my best to understand what happened to now bring me to this point, and how I can make things better as a result of everything that has passed before. I don’t need redemption, I’m not looking to build bridges or re-establish friendships. If I walk away, it is for a very good reason, and I won’t look back.

If something is worth keeping, I’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure I do.

Having said that, there was one person I’d missed when I cut my chords a while back who, bless his heart, came back and found me. Of everyone I’d spoken to before he was the most decent and honest, and I think deep down the one I related to the most in everything that I am. Nobody had ever come back for me ever and it was his humanity that spurred me on to a great many things I now realise I’d never have had the strength and ability to do otherwise. I look at those who I no longer speak to and think of them all from time to time, and of those that are gone who I have tried to reconnect with, but without success. These were the people I felt I actually had the most in common with. I’m just not sure about anyone else any more and to be honest, I sense that in cases like this if those friendships really did matter people would offer the olive branch. It is hard to tell, sometimes, if you’re being right in your assumptions or if you’re simply being stupid.

Thank you Mike for everything. I sat down this morning and realised I wanted to say that, because of that time in the Turbine Hall, and the morning in Hoxton, and all the random intersections in-between that hold a significant thread of my life very firmly in place. To everyone else? If I matter to you, I’m still here, I never left, but I feel I’ve changed so much in the last four years we might not have anything in common any longer anyway. If it matters to you, I’m still here.

I’m not sure what else to say.

Thursday Morning