Oh, I have no rhythm. No story, no morning glory unless you like swear words in the morning.
I've started writing again. It's so easy. You don't even need an extra milky super chocolatey hot chocolate. You just need a very simple idea: a girl grieving, a girl running, dead people coming back to life. I used to think my stories were boring but they do work with the right style. I've written 200 words for my story so far, and they're all nice simple words, but they're only the beginning of the web. This is how I make stories. I see as a simple gob of unspecified sticky stuff and I swish my hands around and suddenly I have a complicated, yet specifically beautiful web, complete with drops of dew, weighing it down emotionally. That's my perfect story, and its incredibly weird to get. You have to forget everything you're doing and just try really hard to just do it...
Now thats out of the way, I want to show this link. It might cheer yous up on this dank Tuesday morning, now that most peeps have to go back to work - it's an Guardian article on funny accidents. Can you imagine being bitten by a centipede? But Americans have the stranger ones; something to do with around 45,000 Americans being injured in public toilets in a year - by the toilets themselves. And from this site here (comment at your will) it shows that that chance of dying at the hands of weapons of mass destruction are the same as pigs mutating and sprouting wings: 1 in 6 million. It's nice to think pigs might fly one day and kill off a phrase, just like that. Whats wrong with pigs anyway? Sure, they love their poo, but they seem like a happy bunch. They are given quite a lot of respect for a farm animal, they're smart, they were given a pivotal role in George Orwell's Animal Farm (which you must read, its brilliant) and they seem to have this overriding self confidence that makes me blush. Apart from the slaughter thing, I'd love to a be a pig in the next life. If there is such a contraption.Okay, I have more. Homosexual necrophiliac ducks. It's the future, and just plain strange. I used to think ducks were such innocent beings. Oh and pigeons do it too. Whats up with necrophilia? I only wanted to be more informed of the news so I could act all intelligent and have really interesting dinner parties. I doubt anyone is going to want to listen to me now. Sorry for all of the hyperlinks, I got overexcited, but they're all quite decent. Go on, have a look, read the luscious writings of the guardian online.
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