That rain’s not easing up you know…..

…it’s bloody not. I have many things to do today, this is not going to plan. It’s as dark as twilight, the rain and wind are intertwining themselves in some uninviting looking dance mid air, there’s a grumbling thunder, yet the breeze coming through the doors is a pleasant one. A necessary one, to eradicate the heavy odour that hangs around the room this morning, a mixture of alcohol and food and stale smoke. Tasty.

I think that, whilst I was on a rather strict regime of mental self improvement recently, I have slacked just a little of late. It is probably to do with the fact that I am returning to college in two weeks and will be spending the majority of the summer in full time education whilst waiting tables at night and trying to write a masterpiece in the meantime. Hah! I accept your challenge; I will also flaunt any predisposed narration guidelines and continue to jabber in this fragmented manner.

As anyone who reads my nonsense with any regularity will know, I do occasionally shift drastically from consideration of personal situations, to random stories and thinly veiled opinions on various media output. Blog’s are supposed to be our generation’s diaries. Well, that’s kind of a load of bollocks really, because blogs are nothing like diaries, in that you are composing them with the direct intention of having someone else read them. It would be like keeping a large, leather bound book with a massive opened padlock on the front, leaving it discarded upon tables in and around café’s and whatever other formal or informal meeting places normal people go to and declaring in a loud voice; “Oh dear, I have just left my diary here, I do hope that while I am away for the next few moments, that nobody reads my innermost thoughts, desires and secrets.”

If you did this, you would be a contrived prick. Now, please don’t misinterpret my words and take this as an attack on those sensitive souls who pour their heart, soul and tears into their online musings. One just needs to remember that no matter how candid one may get whilst writing in this manner, subconsciously, at some level, you know bloody rightly that you’re writing this for someone else to read. By that rationale, you are not being truly honest, because you are going to be manipulating the way in which the words are formed to draw emotion from whomever should read it; be it sympathy, appreciation, understanding, empathy, hatred or just simply attention. Everyone writes these things for a reason.

I have finally, started a proper journal. Any previous efforts were written and destroyed a long time ago. Maybe the option of having a selective narrative to post occasionally has reignited some form of literary confidence, more importantly, an honesty. For, maybe in the last few years, I have become more confident in vocalizing a fraction of the things that plague my mind constantly. I am obsessed with society, with human behaviour and interaction, with how drastically we have changed as people in such a short space of time and the effects of all this. This will come as no shock to anyone; I have pondered these ideas before and will do again. My main point being, that whilst there is not a complete level of honesty present in the domain of blogs and internet writing, I feel that even having the option of that selective output is a wonderful thing. As we all decline in to a mass pit of stupidity and drooling, any way to evoke thought amongst that is a powerful tool. It has most certainly given me more options to categorise my thoughts, to unload some of the incessant jargon that spins through my mind and free up some space for legitimate contemplation.

If I do write less about myself directly from now on, you will know why. I am not stating that I wish to depersonalize my writing in any way, just that I may write less on the direct subject of self. To do so would seem both arrogant and fickle. The world may share ideals opinions and interests with you, but that does not mean that they want to hear about every bad day that you have or every time you’re feeling a little peaked. It confuses the boundaries and dilutes the integrity of the work.

I am greatly aware that I have started down several paths of thought on this subject and have not concluded on any, this is intentional in that, there is no real conclusion to draw, this is merely opinion, one man’s idea’s and thoughts put down for the world to share. Put down, with the intention of sharing. Personal thoughts, yes. Thoughts, however that have been notated to be shared and therefore will have gone through some form of internal censorship.

Any thoughts?

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