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Creativity

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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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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Hair Raising

Did I mention I’m thinking of having some blonde added to the front of my hair? Time for something different. Maybe on my one non-bad hair day this year! Anyway, it’s a look I like, unless my friendly neighbourhood stylist talks me out of it!

I finally booked the moving of the rest of my stuff into the flat for Thursday the 22nd. It’s costing £40, so a tenner less than it might’ve been.
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This and That

A bit of retail therapy today, in anticipation of being skint very soon (said therapy pretty much guarantees that!). Most importantly, I bought a new jacket for while the weather is still a bit bobbins: I won’t describe the horror that was my only other coat suited to the weather, but suffice it to say this was a necessary purchase.

I’ve been trying to track down someone who would move the rest of my stuff into the flat for less than £50. This is an uncertain situation at the moment, but even if it does cost £50, it’s being done next Thursday or Friday. I hope I can get it cheaper, but enough’s enough.

I decided to re-read some H.P. Lovecraft recently. I realised it’d been about ten years at least since I’d read any of his stuff—I have a three-volume set of his work I bought eons ago.
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Contemplation

Hmmm… only three days to go for the Big Event now. I feel an overload of humbugs coming on already.

Still, I have New Year’s to look forward to?! I want to spend the ‘cabbage time’ until then contemplating how I go about sorting my life out. Must be constructive. Depression and despair leads to nowhere. Someone recently told me that focusing on good things is important—not always an easy feat, but sound advice. It’s all too easy to consider yourself a total failure, but doing something about it… that’s a challenge.
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