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Chrissie

How to Fail

Two weeks and no entries! Well, yeah. Nothing has really changed in the last fortnight. I guess I’m stuck with a genuine tendency towards persistence, i.e. I persist in spite of no break from my angst and having major trouble generally. Being blasé is the best policy, but I never got the hang of that. I think my life has always been one of belief and integrity, insofar as that’s possible, but experience tells me it’s not a recipe for success. Not giving much of a fuck about anything is probably the path to success. But if I could be like that, I’d be someone else. Convenient personality changes aren’t part of my repertoire, unfortunately.
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I am the Weakest Link!

Irregular blog entries = strong indication of continuing lack of enthusiasm.

How do I feel at the moment? Good and bad, in an odd sort of way. At times, I think I have a shitload of things to say here but my mind often goes blank when it comes to putting them down—quite often, it’s fleeting observations on some television programme I watched, etc., so nothing too exciting.

On the telly theme, it bothers me a bit that I sit and watch Who Wants to be a Millionaire and The Weakest Link, not with detached boredom but almost a genuine level of interest! Am I turning into a middle-aged couch potato? Even worse, the ‘Who Shot Phil?’ palaver on EastEnders had me fairly gripped. I should be ashamed of myself.
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Isolated

I’ve had a few really quite supportive e-mails in the last couple of weeks. I’m sure I come across as ungrateful sometimes, which is unfortunate,… Read More »Isolated

Loneliness

Nothing much to say still. It’s been a fairly miserable week—mom’s been ill with some bad bout of flu or somesuch, which has knocked her down pretty badly. The atmosphere has been low key and depressing.
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Bugs from Outer Space!

So… there might have been life on Mars after all. Okay, only bugs, but what’s wrong with bugs? At least bugs aren’t prone to the kind of senseless, cretinous behaviour some of us supposedly civilised, intelligent human beings are capable of. Yeah. I think we should officially nominate bugs as supremely cool creatures.

Silliness aside, I guess I do find the idea of real alien life kinda fascinating and exciting, even if it is only bugs. The evidence is being disputed already, so it could still be a bogus lead. But it’s an intriguing possibility.
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Angst Equals Great Art?

On the creative front: I’m asking myself about how and why one can derive creativity from angst or annoyance. This is interesting. I used to be able to channel any number of frustrations into creative work—I think it’s still possible, to an extent, but since my life, while still needing a lot of work, is broadly more tolerable than it was, say, two years ago, I find myself less creatively inclined toward using negative feelings in this way.

I wonder if that’s a good or bad thing? I suppose it’s good in most ways. Whereas when my life was truly down the toilet I could have used even a minor annoyance as a reason to write some dark, brooding, ponderous chunk of bile, I somehow don’t feel that need anymore.
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