If I can keep you stimulated constantly, either by writing my words or winding wee world castles round your heads or as a street based clown, digesting and conduiting banal reality and creating comedy out of it then I am essentially defensively distracting you and myself.
You know what stumps me? I don't know what from.
I know it's anxiety based but also I recognise within it lies the only peace I've ever known.
You can't go through life as a professional 11 foot disgruntled dancing panto without admitting to yourself a certain grandiose precocious childishness.
When all that dissolves I remind myself that I'm alone, I am entirely poor. I have had no funds at all the last 2 months of my life and I should be dead.
It kinda puts a searingly unavoidable magnifying lense on the question we all ask from time to time.
"Why am I here?"
My pat answer was always "I'm a stodgy potato of a man constantly asking myself 'Am I realised?' "
Well the answer is . "I'm not."
I'm not realised. I have no idea really.
I'm funny but a lot of people are funny. I know funny, a lot less people know funny but there's still quite a few of us.
I'm just thinking aloud here.
Should I produce collective funny? Should I corral all the beautiful flawed folk who create the funny and focus them so that laughter is produced, on the streets, in hospitals, schools and hospices over a set period of time regularly?
I wonder, if I let go, could it work?
Perhaps I could acknowledge that living for free [so far] in a drug rehabilitation farm overlooking the sea is some sort of circumstantial gift perhaps even divine in it's own way .
I lost my mind and this place caught me and gently gifted me a footing.
I accept I have nothing more to lose. I'm not suicidal so I suppose I have no choice. What's to be done of me seems out of my hands. It frankly terrifies me.
3 comments:
If you have nothing more to lose I guess you will just have to go forward.
I had a thought come to me earlier today that might be helpful. Not sure why or in what context. There was nothing really profound going on. I was just doing laundry at the time. It was: Do what you can with what you have.
That's all I got, except for sending positive thoughts your way.
I just backtracked and found out you are an editor.
Boy do I need one.
I've sent my, 'as best I could' 26 stories to about 5 friends, none of them editors and have had some feedback and the obvious howlers pointed out but someone who has a handle on editing would be, oh I don't know...a godsend.
i have one lit qualified friend still to get back to me. I have alternatives. as you say, do what I can. I take it that incorporates asking for help.
I have taken a class in editing, but I wouldn't really call myself an editor. I was working on a degree in Tech writing but had to drop out. Not sure I would be of much help to you. While I am out of school am working on my own novel. Viki Gonia (Babbles) would be the the one to contact. Didn't you meet her at a Vinemeet?
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