Wednesday 25 July 2012

We Sleep On Rooftops - Chapter 1-Part 2 - The Writing People

We Sleep On Rooftops - Chapter 1-Part 2 - The Writing People

Thursday 12 July 2012

The Question is...

For those of you who have missed the emotional crap, here it is, for those of you who haven't - look away now...

Do you know why the main character in my Badly Drawn series always frowns/looks sad/clueless? Some people, I know how odd this might sound, but some people have told me that it's due to the artists inner self being expressed in an outward way - and here I was just drawing the unfortunate events of a person who just so happens to be based on me. He's my juxtaposition, my doppelganger, as it were.

Well yes, that's true, in a sense, but I've been thinking lately, perhaps a little too much. I always get told off for over-thinking and over-complicating things, but that's just how I think. It's weird, I know, just like when I sniff something (and you know, if you know me, that I do that a lot) it just seems like the natural thing to do, to try and define something without touching it/having to touch it. 

It's odd, and I'm over complicating this so, let's see if I can start again...

I suppose the main reason for not posting so many of these 'emotional' blogs is time, but that's always a stupid excuse. No, the reason for this is because for a very long time (in my terms anyway) I was pleasantly emotionally stable. I was in a comfortable situation, I even, on occasion, conned myself into believing that I had something I had mainly always wanted. 

It's strange when people always seemed to tell you that something is yours, you never believe them until you see it for yourself, and then everyone else changes their tune. It's quite a confusing situation. Some people even expected as much. I don't know how I feel about any of that.

I just know that where I am at the moment, I feel like I am in, dare I say it, love.

I have thought I've been in love before - well perhaps not all were love - I perhaps thought maybe one other was love, but I liked the others, like boys like girls - it's just natural. But there's a difference between this love, and that one. 

This love hurts.

I'd always heard it said, but I, I don't know, it never seemed right - but I think I know what the songs mean. Perhaps I should become a Poet - it might be more profitable than my currant enterprise (ha! - that would be a stupid thing to do wouldn't it?)

I feel like everyone around me, not the people directly involved, don't quite get what I'm trying to achieve, even though I'm achieving it. And they say to me, 'but how do you make money out of it?' and I always reply with these ideas, that have always sounded good, but seem to fall on deaf ears. 

But anyway, where was I?

Love hurts, I remember. It's odd, when anyone now talks about getting boyfriends, moving out, or even people telling me that I'm in a bad situation and I need to burn all bridges to reconcile anything and everything, to fall back on the very foundations of this four-year relationship, and blow everything up and start from the beginning - I get this horrible feeling.

It's not quite like holding back tears, but it is similar. And this is the point I'm trying to get across - everything feels different. You feel like something so right is perfect, and how could it not be something, when clearly there's something there - and then you get told that that one thing, the one thing that you think is magically connected to you somehow, isn't yours, and the whole idea is a massive waste of your time, and you should quit now, and try and piece together something else instead. It makes you want to fight for that one thing, it makes you want to not change, and try to hold on to it, even though you should let go. 

It's also really hard to write something like this and make sense, so I hope you understand me, if you read this. If anyone still does - it's always good to store your thoughts somewhere (well I think it is, in a very public forum, where no body wanders - the perfect place to hide them - like crying into the night, or something less poetic). 

Sorry for rambling, I'm sure I'll get round to tell you about my brief stint in employment at a local Newagents, but until then you should probably head on over to www.wearethewritingpeople.co.uk and check out everything I seem to do on a daily basis - unless I'm not doing it, in which case, ignore that last bit. 

Carpe diem, until next time bloggers...