writings
hey, right. yes i did do these myself
You can run away from anything except anti-matter pirates. bastards.
here is my blog, nothing much here yet but it's a start i guess.
i began a blog a year or two ago, on my old site OnTheVerge, have a read.
i wrote the start to my dictionary, some words i use that were made up. yes you can tell. ah well, i'll get over it in time.
this is kind of a dictionary in itself, all my old gestures and phrases. don't ask me where they came from or where they went. or even when they will return. but they will return. they always do.
harold bishop. he stars quite a lot, always a bit of a freak imho, but heres harolds antics anyway.
peter and kevigulas: the jedi archives. the beginnings to a library to be filled throughout the rest of time by pointless rambling and mumblings.
a story: the journey. and another: story of stones. well the story of stones isn't really a story, more an elongated story based poem. so i guess it is kind of a story then really but kind of not at the same time. i know what i mean. just read it.
sometimes i think too much, so why don't you think about it as well?
i get the feeling that my university hates me. i can't figure out why though.
i wrote Secret Track 1, Secret Track 2, Secret Track 3, and Secret Track 3a as part of something i can't remember for the life of me. yes they are random and yes they did mean something at the time.
before i quit drinking, sometimes i'd get into a bit of a Drunken Stupor.
it was a song about a bag called orinoco. but it was nothing to do with him. and there was no music. and it wasnt a song. and it didn't really rhyme very well. on any account, the Womble Song is ingenious in that it fulfills none of the promises of the title but still makes me chuckle. and it's not even funny. i should maybe have titled it: the womble song, a brief oxymoron in depth.
i write quite a lot. lots of it means things when i write it. i mean i actually read it back and think, shit, did i write that? surely not. sometimes this impresses me. the bad thing is sometimes i can't remember what i was actually on about in the first place, the stoner song for example. i mean really, what was i on about? it sounds good. i know what some of it is.
occasionally i get really messed up. i don't intend to, i don't like it, and i'm always more than grateful to feel how i do right now. in all fairness i feel better right now than i can remember feeling in more than a long time. but i did find this funny when i wrote it at the time. a little poem maybe?
there once were two lads she taught
who were very sexually distraught
they took her to bed
and made her all red
even with the vaseline she bought
i am also really really trying to get together ideas for a film.
i have written down loads of stuff. some of it i like, some of it i dont. what i'm really struggling with is a plot. i have ideas for scenes, i have morals to fit in, i have some ideas of the music. i have had a few ideas for most parts of it. my good friend mister big scary steve has given me a hand tryin to get things together in my mind, but i'm still stuck with a main storyline. the basis is balance. both equal amounts of love and hate.
but how to fit them together? and what to write about exactly? people always say, write about what you know best, so i can take things from my perspective and change enough to make in film-ish i guess. but i really need some ideas.
this is what i have so far: these are some ideas on balance and how to present certain elements i want to see in the script. i wrote down some scene progressions, not necessarily containing any really important points in the story, but which give some form of atmosphere or whatever you want to call it. read the scenes to see what i mean. all the film stuff is written as train of thought. what i think of goes down on the page, regardless of whether or not it fits with what i mentioned directly before.
change of subject: how about a timeline? written several years ago while i was at college i think. like i'm gonna remember when i wrote it. it doesn't really matter. it's not a bad little read. quite childish, but that's what i do best sometimes.
my oldest younger sister once came to me with a problem. her biology teacher had asked her to write a poem about plant-sex or whatever its really called. so i gave her a hand. because i'm nice like that. apparently it went down quite well in the lesson it was read out in...
sometimes i feel like a dolphin. sometimes mind you. dolphins like to follow me around. they make me laugh and make me go all mushy inside. it's kinda hard to explain. so here's a little story with my dolphin friends in
on a tangent. but only a slight complete tangent. sometimes i sit and write because i think i have an idea. i dont know what it is or where its going, but i sit and write whatever it is down. then i save it, and forget about it. sometimes i wake up the next day and think "i wrote something. i wonder what it was. i wonder if it was any good.". now when i write something, i usually remember if i at least thought it was a good idea at the time. and 99% of the actual time i can't even remember that. it's both incredibly amusing and excruciatingly annoying at the same time. but at least when i read some of them back at some point i can think to myself: "who wrote this? was this guy on crack?", and when i realise it was me, and no i wasn't, aren't and don't ever intend to be. ever. i think, "hey. go me". then i dance a little dance. smile a little smile. and share the inside wall to my head with an ususpecting world. i am so, so sorry. now that we are over it, here it is. whatever that turns out to be. this time it's, well, erm... something and, well, at some point i guess there'll be something else.
apparently, jesus didn't have a barber.
here is something called the diary of twattedness. now i have no idea what most of it means, and i will make no apologies for the bad grammar, punctuation, spelling, and general presentation of it. however, i found it the other day, and i don't know why but it made me chuckle. you'll probably hate it, but have a read anyway. if you're wondering why it's all mixed up and confusing, it's because i was all mixed up and confused at the time. that's the nicest way to say it. lets just leave it at that. it has been edited slightly, as there were bits which were just too incomprehensible and unecessary even for me. :)