Some things you never wanted to know about me.

I am lazy.

I always follow my dreams.

I can’t and won’t iron.

I like chocolate.

I cry at almost everything.

I always remember the bad stuff.

I never remember the good stuff.

I like cheese.

I won’t refuse a glass of wine.

I prefer to listen to the conversation and then imagine what i would say in my head.

If i have something to say, i’ll say it.

I’ll stand up when i think something is wrong, even if it means i get attacked.

I always feel awkward with people i don’t know.

I think people think i’m strange.

I know i’m good at something even if no one else can see it.

I can talk and talk to the right person.

I like to cook.

I am always right.

I think i deserve to be loved.

I don’t think i deserve to be loved.

I can spend hours looking out of the window.

I love to dream and sometimes look forward to nighttime just so i can go to sleep.

I like to read.

I will be obsessed with something for five minutes and then grow bored.

In my head i’m beautiful and popular and always know the right thing to say.

I’m not beautiful or popular and i never know the right thing to say.

I always say the wrong thing.

I google random people for fun.

I don’t like exercise.

I am always angry with myself.

I judge people on how they look.

I’ll be friends with them anyway.

I dream about winning the lottery and am counting on the fact that one day i will.

I like material things.

I like sitting out in the sun reading a book.

I’ve never heard someone say ‘I love you’ to me.

I am insecure.

I lack confidence.

I don’t show it.

I fail at everything i do.

I miss being young when anything was possible.

I will defend you.

I can be superficial.

I always know what i want.

I’ll listen if you want to talk.

Motivation, or lack thereof

At the moment the only thing I am motivated to do is to procrastinate, a lot, in any single way I can find to do it that doesn’t involve actually doing the work I am meant to be doing right now. That’s why I’m writing this, this is nothing more than some more procrastination, though there is a purpose behind this bit.

Right now I’m going through one of those awful slumps. I have no motivation to do the work I need to do and I can’t seem to see my way out of it. So here’s the thing; why not write about it? Then maybe I might get a handle on what’s blocking me right now and get on past it.

I’m in that strange place where I’ll either find my motivation and be successful, or I’ll hit rock bottom and end up working in a shop for the rest of my life. I could burst out in tears just thinking about the latter option but even that thought hasn’t been enough to motivate me out of this slump.

The slump comes after a series of setbacks, every opportunity I’ve applied for has turned out to be a non-opportunity. I’ve lost count of the amount of rejections I’ve had since I graduated at the beginning of July and it’s only the beginning of September. It’s not as if I’ve sat back and said, ‘the work will come to me!’ It hasn’t and it won’t. I’ve worked really hard on application after application and all that hard work comes back to me in the form on an email or letter that says, ‘we have taken the time to consider your application and regret to inform you, you have not been successful on this occasion.’

Now all I can think is, ‘when will I be successful?’ I’m not even expecting offers to flood though my door, just an interview would be enough to show that I’m not just a complete failure.

All that rejection has left me feeling lonely and depressed. Nobody wants me to work for them, nobody even wants to give me a chance to show that actually I can be quite good. All this must mean I am a complete failure.

Now this is not unique to me. Right now there are probably thousands of people in my position; recent graduates who can’t get a break, workers who have been made redundant and are trying to get back into work. It isn’t easy for any of us but it is easy to fall into the trap of thinking you’re the only one. I look about me and it seems all my friends are doing so much better than me. Whether it’s perception or truth, it’s leaving me feeling isolated.

In less than six months’ time I’ll be 30 and that really isn’t helping. Here am I, having just graduated and trying to start at the bottom of a career ladder once again and I’m almost 30. It really doesn’t help when I hear of my friends’ new houses, impending marriages or new babies. All that seems as far off to me right now as it did to us all when we were just 21 and they were just graduating.

And so I come back to that question; ‘how do I get myself out of this slump?’ I start working, I create my own opportunities, I stand straight back up every time I get knocked back down. I have no choice but to sound like a cheesy self-help book, I gave up what could have been a brilliant career for this, there is no way I’m backing down now.

It’s all a bit easier said than done through and it certainly doesn’t help that my mother keeps telling me not to worry because, ‘you can always move back home when it all fails.’ No really, thanks for the support.

Now all that’s left for me is to try again, to send out more applications and proposals and introductory letters. I just have to hope that I never get to the rejection that will completely break me.

A long time coming

Wow it’s been a long time since i was last here. I suppose i should have known that i’m not the best at keeping things like this up.

Ever one for a challenge though, i think i’m going to try again!

An unblocking

I don’t like this getting dark early thing, but it seems to be a good excuse to drink hot chocolate while i work. And the lights look pretty from my window. I don’t feel like i’ve been very productive today but i don’t know what else i could have done, apart from get up earlier that i did. I deserve a lie in on Saturday.

I’m still thinking about imagined conversations and did some sound recording today. I hope it works ok. I need more material though and have hit a block, so i’m typing here instead of writing in my notebook, trying to unblock something.

Block is not something i get often, even if i don’t know what to write i’m quite good at just getting myself to write anything, no matter how badly written it is and i find that takes me on and helps me to write. Perhaps the problem this time is i don’t know what i am meant to be writing. More accurately i haven’t decided. Well i have a theme imagined conversations now i just need to find the form and write a text that is interesting and exciting. A text to be spoken out loud against other text that has nothing to do with imagined conversations. Only a small thing. It shouldn’t be too hard. It doesn’t even have to be that long, only a couple of minutes worth. I could even write about writing it. I guess any subject can be interesting and exciting if it’s written well. I might go back to what i’ve written before and just copy myself, make it easy. Whatever i do i know it will work because it has to.

So much to do, so little time.

What is really here?

If it had worked, there would be a photo here.

It’s a photo taken on my phone.

It shows a factory, a power station i think, with a chimney sending smoke high into the air. If front of the chimney is a Victorian factory building and then some new (70′s?) red-brick flats with trees at the front. Next to the chimney is a rainbow, bright and big shooting off into the sky.

Hopefully sometime soon my computer will actually work and the photo will be here.

A conversation that never was

I intended to make another post before now, but i’ve been busy and haven’t been well. A headache that lasts for days is not the best time to stare at a computer screen.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about imagined conversations and different voices. I’m working on something that works only in imagination. If that can be done. I have imagined conversations all the time.

With someone famous.

When i read something i disagree with.

When i read something i agree with.

During  an actual conversation. Someone says something and instead of speaking i imagine what i would say next and before i know it a whole conversation has been happening inside my head and the real conversation has moved on without me.

These are the conversations i want to have. Not conversations with myself, that i think is something different.

My first conversation is going to be with an old lady i saw sitting at a cafe table outside BHS. I didn’t have a conversation with her. But what would have happened if i had. I wouldn’t have cheated at something i was meant to be doing in the first place. But the imagined conversation might be far more interesting than anything that really happened that day. I can make it say whatever i want to.

I need two more conversations as well and a host of people to record the voices for me. And a way of making it all work might help to.

This could be interesting, it could not. It’s only a start. I hope it goes somewhere good. It would be nice for this to move on without me and actually be a conversation. Maybe i’m not very good at those and that’s why the imagined conversation is something i am looking at rather than the real one. I think i exist inside my head too much. Usually its a lovely place where i am happy and have everything i want. Right now it isn’t because the world inside my head thinks along situations i don’t like. Things that i can’t change, even in my own little world.

Finally the sun in shining?

I wanted to write this blog, and i wanted to keep writing it.

To stick to something and to see what might come out of it. Often there are rules. For example, i have set a timer for 10 minutes and that is how long i will write for today.

When i set this blog up i didn’t want to use my name, i didn’t want to tell my friends. This invisibleness might help me to be more truthful in what i say. I also wanted to see if people would find me and want to read me blog.

People have found me, but no one has stayed or commented. I wonder why. What’s it like to write something to be read that isn’t being read?

Well, i just hold up hope that someone someday will like what i write.

Also this is not just about my blog and my thoughts being read. It’s about me. Having somewhere to write them, and keeping up a practice of writing and keeping this blog.

I want to keep writing and this is a good way of doing it.

I can’t write in it everyday. Well actually, that’s a lie. I could if i got up earlier some days, or went to bed later. But somehow i don’t think i’ll do that. I like my sleep.

This blog isn’t about a theme or written by someone well known. Perhaps the secret to a successful blog. My other blog gets looked at a lot, but then it is my professional blog and other’s that i know and have asked to take a look follow it. This is more of a diary that someone could read if they wanted but most people won’t bother.

It has made me realise what a diary could be though. It doesn’t have to be exactly what i’ve done each day. Perhaps that’s why my diary keeping has failed in the past.

I like the electronic version as people can see it anytime. But notebooks hold something special for me. I love them. They are interesting and exciting and could hold anything. I keep thinking that maybe i would prefer to handwrite this in a notebook and then read them in years to come.

I keep repeating it, but i should be working right now. I need to update my professional blog.

And that’s 10 minutes up.

A day in the life

I got confused by the time today. I suddenly realised i have forgotten to change the time on my watch. Strange how it’s taken me until Wednesday to notice. Do i want to talk about me? Probably not. Why would anyone care. It’s about not being sentimental and self-indulgent. And it would be if i did talk about myself. What’s so wrong with me that no one will love me? What have i done? Why won’t he speak to me?

I don’t want to talk about that.

I’d rather watch the telly.

I am not that interesting or exciting. Nothing amazing has happened to me. You wouldn’t make a film out of my life. You wouldn’t enjoy the book written about me.

It would just be nice to have someone who cares about me. That asks me who i am and listens and wants to know, doesn’t just ask the question because it’s convention to say “Hi, how are you?”

I should be working. I think i keep repeating that. But i should. It would take my mind of things.

Maybe continued…

Maybe he does really love me.

Maybe he doesn’t.

Maybe it will all turn out ok.

Maybe i will be successful.

Maybe i won’t be lonely.

Maybe i will write a bestseller.

Maybe i will buy that dream house.

Maybe i will get to travel round the world.

Maybe i will own a Z3.

Maybe someone will think i am pretty.

Maybe someone will respect me.

Maybe i will find my voice.

Maybe i will achieve everything i want to.

Maybe i will get to grow old.

Maybe i will learn another language.

Maybe i won’t always be so lazy.

Maybe i will stick at something.

Maybe i will have a family.

Maybe i will have time to do everything i have to.

Maybe i will be rich.

Maybe i will move on.

Maybe the time has come.

Maybe i should cut my losses and leave.

Maybe i should try harder.

Maybe i should know when to stop.

Maybe the rain will continue to fall.

Maybe my friends will always be there for me.

Maybe i will finish what i’ve started.

Maybe i won’t always blame myself.

Maybe i will never be cold.

Maybe i don’t like the word Maybe.

Maybe i should stop using that word and focus on what is.

Maybe…

Maybe i’ll just wait and not do anything.

Maybe i’ll crack and say something.

Maybe this isn’t what i think it is.

Maybe it is.

I’m alone and it’s a raining day. The weather always makes you feel worse. The weather fits my mood quite successfully.

I don’t want to cry.

I don’t want not to know.

I don’t want to hurt.

It doesn’t really work like that though. I don’t have a choice. You made sure of that.

I should be working but i can’t concentrate. I have things to do. It will take my mind away to somewhere else. Maybe i need another cup of tea. Yes, i think that’s exactly what i need. There isn’t anything have can’t be solved by a good cup of tea. With one sugar in it i think this morning. That will be my third tea this morning, but only my first with sugar in it. That’s good, that’s an improvement. Wouldn’t the bottle of wine help more? Quite possibly but then i really wouldn’t get any work done and its way to early for that anyway. Tea it will have to be. It could even be tea in another place. I haven’t been to the tea shop down the road in a very long time. I  could go and have some exotic tea and some food and sit with people who don’t know me. I can pretend i’m happy and sit and write. Or i could venture further afield and go to the pub/bar/cafe i’ve been meaning to go back to. It won’t be tea there but hot chocolate. But the hot chocolate there has memories attached to it, that was the last time i was there and right now i don’t think i could stand that.

Maybe i’ll just stay here and make myself endless cups of tea and convince myself to do some work. There is so much to do. I don’t really know where to start. I don’t really want to start, which isn’t quite like me.

It’s the weather. I am better than sitting and mopping anyway. And it will be you that regrets what you did.

These years are marked. They were meant to be one thing and they turned into another. I want them to turn back but i don’t know how to.