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.


About Alan

Alone in a sea of spinifex.
This entry was posted in Life, don't talk to me about life!. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to FROOMB

  1. dayvebutler says:

    Cool with me. No change then…


  2. dayvebutler says:

    Cool; No change then…


  3. Pilgrim33 says:

    “I will not necessarily make it clear exactly which I am doing at any particular time.”
    So what else is new?
    Most private person I know.


  4. Alan, you are complicated man… A very honest complicated man… I like the honesty part a lot because you won’t play games.

    About the talking to yourself… A very wise uncle told me that it is OK to talk to yourself and it is even OK to ask yourself question and answer them… but you do have a problem if you ask yourself to repeat something that you said to yourself… He is also a very funny uncle…


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