Today has been all about characteristics. I have a lot of character, I guess that’s how I could be summed up. I hope you appreciate that. I’m not an easy person to know, I’ll admit that freely. I hope you appreciate that too.
I woke up with a headache and various conflicting moods. For reasons of privacy, I shall not be revealing details of the latter. The headache eased by late morning. The moods? I’ll let you know.
My suspicions were raised by a large black van parked outside. If this had been a television crime drama, I would have started peering out of the window every now and then, wondering if I should call the police to inform them that the occupants of the van appeared to be behaving strangely. Maybe it was a bomb plot, an abduction or a robbery? I didn’t call the police, but I did peer out of the window every now and then. Just to be sure. Regrettably or fortunately, depending on your perspective (or your perspective on my perspective), it was just a man collecting some boxes. Everyone noticed him though, I’m sure of it — one tends to notice a large black van in the drive, particularly if it knocks over the “no parking” sign when it, er, parks. I am possibly too suspicious. Must work on that.
I conversed with myself, just a little. Not too much, because that way lies madness (apparently). And it was more in my head than verbally, you’ll no doubt be relieved to hear. It did clarify a couple of points, which was all I could have asked of this short period of me-on-me conversation (me-on-me being the next logical step backwards after one-on-one, presumably).
Words are precious to me. That should be obvious to you by now (and if it’s not, I would respectfully enquire as to why the hell you’re still here). Yet these same words can be too precious. I don’t want to waste them. In a sense, however, this site — this weblog, to use a phrase with which everyone is familiar but that I increasingly loathe with a passion — is a waste of words. A complete waste. Five days on this page, then gone. It’s very foolish of me to squander my words in this way, I suppose.
Suddenly, this afternoon, I had a revelation. I remembered that to flagrantly and carelessly waste words can be good too. It can be refreshing and exhilarating. So I carried out an exercise I hadn’t done since my last year at university, and wasted words and words and words. Streams of rapid fire vocabulary just pouring out of me into textual form. Wonderful. Don’t think, just type. Forget about punctuation, meaning, grammar and relevance (particularly forget about relevance) and just bash away at the keyboard. Possessed? Maybe, though I wouldn’t like to use such a pejorative term. But emptying the mind of all those words produces some startling results. Try it for yourself, and don’t over-analyse whatever warped and obscure language spills out on to the page in front of you.
The phone rang. I checked the number. I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to talk today. Anyway, when the call came I was immersed in strange voices, singers like no other. Songs that whispered and shouted, voices that were harsh and rough or as soft as feathers. I don’t admire good voices; I admire memorable voices. Sing it like you mean it, damn it, or just keep quiet for eternity.
Where was I? I remember. Today has been all about characteristics, as I said, and I thought that you might like to know about it. You probably didn’t. Or if you did, you’re probably reading all kinds of things into what I’ve just written. However, to be fair, I did warn you that I’m not an easy person to know. I’m hard work, but I’m worth it. At least, I think I am.
The problem with having more than one website is that sometimes I end up posting my words to the more inappropriate location. On this occasion, I may have selected the wrong site. Never mind. Just think of this as a temporary aberration; a tantalising and probably entirely confusing glimpse of the other side.