I have been introspective lately. Not sure if that is a symptom or a sickness. Can’t tell if I have been depressed or bipolar. Why not both? I am in two minds about it. Also I may have been somewhat obsessive compulsive and I talk to myself. The latter behaviour is not new. It is a habit of the very intelligent. They talk to the smartest person in the room. This is not an idle boast. In any room with me in it there is a 99 point undisclosed decimal percent statistical probability that I am the smartest person present. Not that my life’s achievements so far offer any proof of the veracity of this claim. I still have somewhere my membership card for MENSA. I never really participated in MENSA activities. Soon after I passed their little exam and was then advised of the decile MENSA-within-MENSA for the roolly clever, I realised what a bunch of shit-heads most of them were. Pretentious up-themselves gits. I am not one of those. So I baled.
Perhaps I am just a bit non compos mentis now and then and i can be a bit patronising without intending it, but look, I am going to assume you understand me, and where I am coming from, OK?
Non sequitur: I have just realised that Vincent and I have a lot in common, apart from the fact that I cut my ear while shaving once (I have hirsute ears). He only sold one painting in his lifetime, other than to his own brother. So did I, though i never sold any at all to my brother. I bet you didn’t know I sold one of my paintings once. This is the kind of thing you will learn if you stick with reading this blog. It is probably on a rubbish heap now. I made a copy of it for myself, and found it in the garage last year. I threw it out.
But I digress.
Anyway, the point is I am feeling better now. Not cured, just better at being introspective. I can handle it.
This blog was started with three purposes in mind:
To be a journal of my daily life and a record of my feelings.
To be the forum in which I practised and developed my writing skills.
And for something else that I forget right now.
So if you have been confused lately, take heart. So have I. For a long time I censored myself. I did not always write what I would have liked because I was concerned it might offend or upset someone. I am realising I am free of that constraint. Those whom I might upset don’t matter and those who matter will understand and, I trust and hope, forgive me if I transgress their comfort zone. Because everything I write will be either truth, fiction, or opinion, or something else, or not.
So here is the deal. I plan to write at least three nights a week to practise my skills. This time next year I shall have something, (not necessarily anything I have put up in the blog) to submit to a publisher of the sort that kills trees.
I shall write autobiographically (THAT was the third thing!)
I shall write my thoughts and observations on my daily existence, if something occurs that I want to share (or record for my alzheimic old self).
I shall philosophise.
I shall tell jokes and reminisce.
I shall write fiction
And I will not necessarily make it clear exactly which I am doing at any particular time.