Tuesday, 27 October 2009

"Tell me what you've seen, tell me where you've gone, tell me where you've been, tell me what you saw."

I know what Rives was talking about.

I'm ill. Swallowing feels like downing razor blades, my throat feelred and raw and unbelieably previous in it's position of "there". My throat feels like it could topple down at any time, and fall into the pit of my uneasy stomach and stay there. I'm listening to Blonde Redhead to make me feel better (a thought I think I feel is ridiculous, considering).

I can't stop thinking.

I promised myself I'd keep my work at work but I keep thinking about work and thinking about work is counterproductive toward sleep, but I can't help it. I'm thinking about getting told off for losing 3d glasses (we have non-disposable ones) when I next go into work. I'm thinking about how Michael Jackson's This Is It is already one of the highest grossing films of all time, beating Star Wars no less, on presales. I'm thinking about how that's going to be a rough one when it opens on Wednesday. I'm thinking about my twelve hour shift then, and how I'll deal with it. I'm thinking about "Bear Flu" and how awesome a concept that is. Because come on. It is.

My dreams have a narrative tonight. All fevered and disjointed but a narrative none the less. There's a game running in there, something about fighting zombies. But at least I'm not talking in my sleep... that's counterproductive to Life. The concept, not the amazing television show starring Damien Lewis. I'm thinking about DVDs. I'm thinking about sleep.

But I can't.

I found out I'm up for promotion, but so are three, maybe four other people, and they're all stabbing each other and me in the back. I don't know if I want to know who they are to gauge my competition, or to back stab them as well. It's not in my nature to betray, so why would they do it to me? And why would I start making mistakes when I'm up for promotion and people are paying attention to me. What's up with that? I mean, apparently it's good. Healthy. But I don't know. I really don't.

Anyway, it's 4am, and I'm awake. Laptop battery will die soon. So that'll be that. And I'll be here again. Rudderless. Brr.

Tuesday, 20 October 2009

"I Hate This Place, I Hate This Town"

My aim is to have my 100th post be the entirety-- or the first part, depending on how big it ends up being-- of "The Chain", the novel[la] I'm working on. I know if I take a different view at it, a different angle, then it'll come together, but right now I'm struggling somewhat. It's becoming too... unwieldy, and I have to par back or it'll become something I'll never finish. It's a blast to write, duh, else I wouldn't keep doing it, but I want to just get down to the conclusion. I started the final scenes, in fact, but got distracted yet again by work, which is a bummer.

Anyways, I'm off to work now.

Rives - Is 4am The New Midnight?

It makes such perfect sense.

J.J. Abrams - The Mystery Box

I save these things for myself for later. I think you have to. If you find something that opens your eyes and makes you think, then you have to save it, else you might lose that piece of inspiration, and then you're not the better for it. Not one bit.

Rives - Gorgeous

This man is a genius. A poetic genius that I have not seen surpassed.