Catching up

Right. My next project for tonight and before everyone gets home and disturbs me, is to write my blog.

I'm listening to one of the tracks that I'm using for my novel. "Build a Better Garden." That would be a better title for my novel. The track evokes a certain time for me and a different certain time for my characters. Sometimes the two get confused in my head and I have to sit and think clearly for a few minutes.

...Well that was a pointless search. I just spent ten minutes searching for the lyrics to "Build a Better Garden" and couldn't find them anywhere. Hey, does this count as research for my critical rationale? And whilst we're on the subject, is it taking the piss to put down going to the G8 in Germany as research? Even though I would use any material for both my fictional and non fictional wriitng.

However the point remains that presently, my blog is pitiful. I am posting this piece in a concerted effort to catch up. I have two months worth of blog posts stored in my journal which I have not got round to typing. I shall therefore move forwards and backwards through time as need and desire take me. To avoid confusion I shall mark posts as "before" or "after" this piece of writing. Call it an experiment in time.

The moment

I'm cold, thirsty and I need a piss. Else I'm happy. But I know if I go and meet these bodily requirements that I won't be able to get back to this place again and I rather like this place. Although I'm wandering off. Maybe I just need to go and sort these thing out and if I'm able to keep going and come back, then that will be fantastic.

I never did get back - I went downstairs and Jack woke up and I was needed as Mum.

Reflections on a night out

I have tasted a delicate piece of freedom. Yet my need for expression is not fulfilled. I watched the dancers and I wished I could join them. I wished I was still thin. More than anything, I wish I was still thin.Yet I know these insecurities dogged me when I was thin. Although I look back on these times through rose tinted glasses, it was a mess of depression and alcoholism. Paranoia and extreme stress.

I felt lucky tonight. Lucky to have been brought up musically, that I've been given the means to understand some deep subconscious link in music. It is not something I can recreate, although I wish I could. But I can in my mind - the singing of the instruments sends me off on a beautiful journey.There was something in the music tonight that I wanted to capture. I remember wishing I had brought my notebook with me, but thought it was anti social as I was going out with my Mum. I also berated myself for wanting to record an experience when I should have been experiencing the moment, swaying , caught in the wave of music.

Freewriting to music again

I love this song. This song is so regretful. It is nostalgic but contains almost all the elements. Earth, wind and fire. Passion and emotion. I wish I could write like this music with this purity, this clarity, this subtlety. And I've never been subtle, always did favour the big plodding Tank Girl boots, staming down on everything.

Yet this is also broken and weak, vulnerable with almost a sense of pity.

Regret. Wouldn't it be better if we forgot regret? But doesn't it also teach us valuable lessons? Little treasure to never repeat but will always make our ears burn.

Seen the light. I see the light. Halleluiah. Lord be praised. Except there isn't any light except the blinding glare of the search light. Traped in the headlights. Trapped. Entombed. Netted. Apprehended. Arrested. Incarcerated. Always incarcerated.

I haven't thought about my novel in ages - too much else to do, although I know later that I'll be able to concentrate on it if that's still what I want to do. I think it is although I'm not sure about the musical device although I do still like it. I'm just not sure how well it is sustained.

I don't know where Molly is on her journer. I can't feel what's in her head. I can't get inot a place where I feel right although I know I'll get there in the end.

And I've got quite a lot of stuff on my mind at the moment which really doesn't help. I wish I could shift some of it. I'm not feeling the same levels of anxiety which I felt pre medication but there're defiinitely bubbling away under the surface and I'm not sure that I'm not just repressing them and that they're going to jump up and attack me.

Random writing from a few weeks ago

I can't relax because I'm still obsessing over my arrest. Old habits die hard. And I supose it's because I haven't had to deal with theat level of vulnerability for over a year and I think I'd forgotton hom much it takes out of me; that ti still takes it out of me and that the break hasn't helped me deal with anything.

I'm glad I took part in the action. I'm gladI was able to support. And yes I still feel achy and bruised, but I managed to get out of bed and show some resistance and the reality is that the price isn't that big (although I'll remind myself of this in a few months if I'm charged and facing prison!).

I'm feelin glfay and dry and slightly adrift. I want to reign my head in but it feels bloated and won't fit through the gap in the railings. I watched 999 Rescue a few years ago about a young gail who fell whilst climbing some railings and the spike penetrated her cheek and she was stuck there with the railing through her cheek until the emergency services could cut her free. I still see this image.

I punctured my foot on a railing at the Israeli Embassy a few years ago. We were climbing the fence and I hadn't realised how thin my canvas shoes were. I remember trying to hobble away fast enough as the cops drew the batons and luckily made contact with my bag rather than my skull.

Random thoughts

Ok - well this is the random thoughts part of this blog. I'm just going to type this straight into the computer. I have several pages of writing in my notebook which I will try and type up at some point.

That'll learn me for trusting fucking technology. I have a magnetic vice when it comes to laptops and an uncanny ability to delete everything I've written in a instant without going anywhere near a delete key.

There wasn't that much to what I had to say. The basics of it were that I'm worried about what I'll be charged with from the last demo, that I think they want to charge me with organising but I live in Cornwall and am no longer involved in organising anything and what counts as organistion anyway??? But I'm working against their belief in hierarchy, that I'm near the top of the heirarchy even though we don't have one and don't want one.

And I found out yesterady that a 17 year old with no convictions and who pleaded guilty has had her sentencing delayed for reports and the judge is considering community service. This doesn't bode well for people like me who are practically shitting convictions.

Hopefully I'll find out in December. Hopefully then, I'll have something quantifiable. Either I'll be charged with something or everything be dropped. Although, the cops being the slack bastards that they are, they probably won't be ready to proceed and will extend our bail.

Freewriting to "Progidy"

I'm back in the past. Back in the days of drug fuelled nights, back to the jittery years. I feel on uncertain ground. Those days seem so clear but they are also a bit of a blur.

Chewing our faces with nashing jaws, being unable to control the rushes as the music and dancing peaked. Good, good feelings. Fellings of innocence and love, of total compassion. Feelings of being in the right place at the right time. Feeling like I was living in a dream, although in retrospect, what a fucking dream.

It seems so alien now. I can't imagine ever doing all that now. And it's not just because of Jack, it's because of my mental health and I know how fucked up Class As would make me now.

Class As, I like that. Top of the class. A gold star for effort. Or a little white pill will do. Predominately they were little white pills. The quality was declining and I remember being concerned at the pills speckled with brown. Not concerned enough to not thake them. I don't think I've ever turned down a pill. But then I was monster, a proper pill monster, always searching for the next, higher hit. Searching until it got to 6am and I was blacking out and falling to the floor.

Never mind, nothing a spliff and a cup of tea won't sort out.

Cornish Air

The air today is the Cornish air I remember from my youth. A soft but blustering blowing. It takes me back to melanchony teenage walks on costal path starring out to the bright grey sea.

Today I release the clip and let my bright red hair blow freely around my head. I feel like a romantacised Victorian giving myself freedom for the first time as I let my long locks flow. The sea gives a sense of freedom that is beyond compare.

I feel occasional drops of water and I can't work out whether it's beginning to rain or whether it's salt spray. I lick my lips but they are already too salty from the sweat of my walk for me to tell.

The sea's choppy but not overtly so. It moves quickly and the waves are forming a long way out. I live so close to the sea but forget to visit it regularly. It's like being a spoilt child, taking wonders for granted. I forget the carthtic effect that watching the waves has and I vow to come more often although I know I probably won't.

Blogging

I'm supposed to keep a blog. I've always stayed clear of blogs mainly to do with paranoia: I'm edgy about anything that the cops can read especially since they seized my personal diaries a few years ago.

We've also been told that we will be assessed on our blogs, that we can write whatever we want and it's more about proving that we're writing regularly but I find it hard to get rid of the voice in my head telling me this is going to be assessed. I guess, it's like being on Big Brother and waiting for the moment when you forget agout the cameras.

I have called this blog "random thoughts, refelctions and fiction" which covers everything really. I've had lots of ideas about what this blog is going to be about but haven't been able to decide anything so I'm leaving it vague for now and seeing what happens.

I've begun and perhaps this is enough for now and I'll see what comes later.