Einem Offenen Brief An Patty Dohle

Dearest Patty,
                     Thank-you so much for the last letter. It was nice for it covered a time-span which I was retrospectively influencing...., it's hard when one is so busy to keep it up (ooh er) but you've done me proud you little sherbert; of course with my festive laziness I missed the christmas post; and for some strange reason a feeling of lethargy and insomnia in equal measure have rendered me fat and useless to writing; so here we are at the only obvious conclusion, an open letter.

Now, I have never done one of these sort of things, and I wish I was a subtle person, who could be all clever and let it lie, and then if anyone else comes across this peculiar little blog, would say 'ooh he's written a letter to his friend, because they're pen-friends apparently, but it's public so it's all for us aswell and carries on his usual blog-stuff, isn't that clever, and he hasn't even made a thing of it, because he's so fucking nauseatingly quirky and clever :P' - something like that, ignore the end, it isn't self deprecation, promise!

Well there we are, there we are, it's a little at odds with what private stuff in your letter you may want to have transmitted, so I will again to the nausea; Ich war wirklich schockiert und verärgert an den über-Zahlung Sache, aussprechen aussprechen Fotzen und die Tatsache, dass sie nur auf, dass ohne Vorwarnung es wirklich nur klopft man für sechs! 


I liked the eight-legged santa drawing, most amusing. I did attempt my usual reply to be bundled along with some christmas gifts, but my ability to hold onto a fountain pen for more than five minutes, went wanting, I found the wax seal though, so that crisis is over! PHEW! - But of the paragraph I wrote it was mostly about writers being chronic masturbators so, y'know.

I am having a rather brilliant Christmas with my parents actually, first for everything, eh ;) hehehehe but perhaps some emotional maturity, wake-up calls, epiphena and all that jazz has caused a mellowing in this department. Ich habe eine sehr, sehr dumpfen Schmerz in der Grube meiner Seele über die Rückkehr zur Uni, die Bastarde zu konfrontieren und Konfrontation, positive und sich für mich, aber ich denke ich bin bereit, auch ich habe BEREIT SEIN!

It will be brilliant to see you just before we go back actually, because we can 'role-play' OH HELLO! - Giving one some balls, big fat hairy words! (Balls) - oh dear I am sleep deprived, I assume your drowning in the bath as we speak, as I type :P 


Oh sleepy, ergh, ergh, erm... erm.... oh Christ! - most people here would resort to some amusing videos and a crude drawing of something, dare I? Dare I? No, I shant take the easy route, like the suicide pills they give to spacemen on doomed missions, I'll plough through the wordy asteroid belt and get the Moonpad of 'Yours Sincerely' - oooh that's one of my better analogies. 


'OH JESUS CHRIST' as Edward Woodward would say, oh it's no use! Verdammt mich und meine unersättliche Wunsch zu gefallen Tag der Sonntag, ich wollte bis Montag warten, vielleicht werde ich eine spezielle Geburtstags Blog zu tun, ist, dass traurig, dass egozentrisch, oh Gott, oh golly YA Blocko'S! Nun da sind wir vielleicht ein wenig glanzlos ist, aber ich habe es für euch, und auch da sind wir, und Sie erhalten einen richtigen Brief in der Post zuvor meine Heimsuchung, und ich werde versprechen, es zu schreiben, wenn ich weniger schläfrig und / oder bis zu Tia Maria getankt, oh wann werde ich lernen!
Yours Sincerely
Simon xxxxxxx

P.S Here is the crude drawing and amusing video for good measure :P

Thesmophoriazusae

I think it's all been a bit too personal round these parts the last few weeks. 

"Duh, it's a blog bag of slime-filth!" I hear you cry from behind your packet of sultanas...eh! - Well that's exactly what todays little ramble is about. Well it's about two things, the first is rambliness, and how it can amuse, and secondly it's randomness, a term a loath, but also hold up as an over-simplification of what my 'method' or 'voice' is, if there is such a thing.


(Yes, shush, I shall waffle about this for as long as I like, go and play with your genitals in the corner!) 


I like to assess and self-reflect that my life, and life in general is an arbritary sequence, we have no free-will, just a series of choices, we live, we die, we know why not, we never will, an absurdist mantra if you will. Now, there is a little way to cheat the stalking cuck-eyed existentialist beast, HUMOUR and DRIFTING, if one is jangled, tussled, nudged and occasionally tripped into different spheres and areas of life, without your prior consent, and if you live within your means, or stay with people you can tolerate, your life is made for you without you having to have made it. I like this. This is untrue but I like it.... for the most-part that is... 


This is where it all comes into play; people (friends - believe it or not, although I must be using the wrong term) have levelled

Have to start again. An acquantance of mine recently said 'You don't have to use every single thing you write' tempered with an exhaustive sigh; I put this in the criticism pile along with 'self-indulgent' and 'poor grammar and spelling', but it is true, I am a horder... horder of my own words, ideas, plots and fantasies, as I spend a lot of my waking life immersed in them, they are the sports and hobbies, cooking, love and sex of others, but all the neurons and synapses I have are all devoted to the rotting stream of garbage that leaks from my fingertips.... Oh christ, I am not getting my wind up this blog this evening....

I was going ruminate and expunge on the ideas of my randomly slotting ideas together, and how on first appearence you may not know what the hell I am going on about and think it all madness and jibberish, but as Polonius says 'this be madness, though there is method in it'... there is something behind it, not always considered... a sort of Jackson Pollock of thoughts and ideas... there are more ellipticals than punctuation, more apologies than spelling...

I could let one into my secrets for example MY TITLE - the apparent random title looks pretty and special, but is plucked from random and does not signify anything that follows CRAZY, not so - my whole dead brain-stem was trying to arouse itself through a 'random blog-generator' throwing up subjects, one was ARISTOTLE'S PHILOSOPHY, I read up on old Ari and went on to Socrates then onto Aristohanes, and one of his surviving plays bears the above title.... *gasp*

And the other point I was going to make was on how transient the nature of life is, the whole 'WE RENT THIS WORLD' mentality, but whereas in youth this terrified me, and in adolescences gave a failed hedonism which was simply meagre self-destruction, now in the very first flush of adulthood, barely, I think it may be a positive thing, it creates modesty, throws posterity into the flame, and gives rise to THE MOMENT, my favourite thing, I attain, so rarely, and it's that THE PRESENT MOMENT - which when I write has the same feeling, of churning out the words to suit the mood of the moment, but it is not of the moment.... And that's why I no longer horde my words as much, my ego has shrunk and become realistic...

Muhummed On A Ski-Lift! I must apologize for this evening - normal service will be resumed soon - think of tonights offering as a transcript of scribbled notes from a note-book written whilst in a fit of stupidity .

NIGHT.

**WARNING: MAY NOT TRIGGER**

A large amount of ambivilence comes into writing this blog. It's irrelevent who reads it, why and when, although, it goes with my nature to being a lot more coherent about private ideas when writing, then perhaps if anyone is interested to elucidate further in public. That could be its use. But a blog has no use. A blog is. That is all...

I am hedging slightly, because I am apprehensive about going on about myself, especially, things we all keep very private, we worry about being vulnerable, going on about them. But 3 points in why it's quite nice:

1) I was told that if you are too private - people find this a turn-off, you're called 'hard work', untrustworthy, suspect, and s on....
2) It's a good way of redressing weighty themes - also in activism lending your support through personal experience may serve to demystify said theme.
3) I am getting very bored with my obsessions, anxieties and paradoxical thought problems - in fact I am wholesale abandoning all that grubbish! and setting myself down a new path - to throw myself into the path of new things.

Unfortunately I have an anxious Father, who liked and likes to tell me how dangerous the world is all the time, and for a while I believed him... but perhaps I don't now....

yes, widening life experience is the key.... musical instruments, languages and salsa's need to be learnt, meals varied and scrumful to be cooked, lands to be travelled. Books, films and music of all different varieties need to be devoured....

What it was, that I wanted to share, was of SELF-HARM, in particular my former association in the act of doing it. Now this shant be a woebetold or defense, or even an explanation why, it is more the peculiar stigma it carries.

It seems to those that show the scars or cuts they have about their person may alarm, fascinate or anger the person or persons who see them - some actively seek a response, others forget - but always it is written on the body - and you can quit the addiction of self-injuring and move on, but scars only fade so much, for me they have not.... and even a lingering look can stir a desire to repeat the process - even though I am now a million miles away from the problems theat befell me to carry it out in the first place....

And an endless procession of Long-sleeved shirts.... I don't know where I've really gone with this, I never talk or write on the subject of my self-harm, I, like many other things, feel I should not talk on the subject as I fel I ma not know what I am talking about... and in an odd reverse competitive way, I may not be the uber former-self-harmer....

This serves a little wordy button for friends and acquantances to press - IF ONE IS CURIOUS ABOUT THE SCARS ON MY ARMS, do feel free to question, but the answers shall be brief and uninteresting, as there is little of interest to say on the subject. And I do try to pride myself on saying something vaguely interesting.

Yes, I hope that's afforded you all of a curious nature, to see one can be rather non-descript about it all, but these things need to be dulled and have the shine rubbed off to take them for what they are, that's how I've moved on really. Ditto all the other peculiarities....