Post Whatever You Are Thinking At This Very Moment

can you write an essay about why that is so important to you? if you cant then you shouldnt be writing a memoir.
 
My walking partner said he would read my book
Actually he said he would "give it a look"
I wasn't too impressed and accidentally walked into the dirt
I should try to be more alert
My new shoes are ruined and my ankles hurt
He works his ass off
He'll pay keen attention when it's time
He's listened to my singing
Gave me praise so fine
Noticed my lyrics and vocals both
I hit my stride
 
May as well post the rest of the 5 songs some guy called Rob made with my lyrics and vocals.
 
everything hasnt changed though! i havent changed!! i mean, i have in the sense i think that i feel less alive, less filled up with emotion all the time (which is why im sort of enjoying this little lachrymose spell i've been having. it feels good to have emotion). but other than that im pretty much the same as i was at 20 (with the one difference that i have developed the morrissey attitude to life, where you expect the worst ahead of time and when it happens are smugly satisfied that you have been confirmed in your hard-won wisdom, an ingenius little way of responding to life if you ask me). so i dont know why things have to change. im not into that "life as a journey" bullshit. it's so condescending. you'd have to have very limited knowledge and not be objective at all to pretend that life is actually a journey. forgive me but there just ARENT that many mysteries. if you're objective even in the slightest than you can already see the outcomes of everything in advance and so have no need to actually live any of it. therefore i cant sing the praises of change. change is for people who cant see past the end of their noses.

but i was so fond of myself as a young person, i cant even tell you. i was exactly my type of girl, which is to say, nobody elses type of girl. i remember a few years ago when my sisters cat died (was it in august i wonder?) i experienced a similar sadness as im experiencing now, not because of the cat (although there is something particularly sad about cats dying, im not sure what it is) but because it brought up with great immediacy memories of myself when i was younger, when it was a kitten and it would sit and knead on my $300 gianfranco ferre sweater (which at the time i was really proud of because it was the most expensive item i had bought with my own money and the knit was so fine and silky and i felt it was VERY cosmopolitan) while i made scrapbooks. it was the memory of me that i was mourning! i dont think the snapshots in your head are useless at all. as viktor frankl said "having been is a kind of being and perhaps the surest kind". it's just so sad that you cant become more of yourself over time, a concentration of yourself, full of all the things you've incorporated into your being through love of those things, but instead have to watch yourself erode and everything you built up inside of you lose it's value. it's just such a bad f***ing set up. if i could sell my soul to the devil to stay young forever i would (do you hear that devil?!?! im making you an offer!!)

i dont think this covid stuff feels historic, i think it feels like tedious bullshit. and i dont think ill ever put my nostalgic yearnings to rest. i know what you mean though, i do the same thing. sometimes i walk down streets here where i used to walk when i was a teenager and absorb the feeling, but it makes me feel like one of those ghosts in harry potter who cant actually eat food but if they pass through it they can get a sense for what it must taste like. anyway, that's interesting that you did that, pep. i think it's human nature especially if you're a writer, to want to see how things turned out, what course they took in life. i kind of feel the need to see how jason turned out. i think im going to incorporate him in my memoir, which is not going to be just about being too sophisticated for my life, but also it's going to touch on themes of nostalgia, memory, identity, aging, living a meaningless/meaningful life, etc. and it's going to take place over the course of three weeks in august during covid-19 (that is, now), and it's going to begin with my dream which then sets off all these ruminations and meditations and anecdotes on these various themes (it's still going to be massively funny, i promise). i wonder if jason will meet me if i tell him that he's a character in my book and for that i need to see how he's turned out in life? i mean, it would be research, which is entirely within my purview as a writer, is it not? of course i have to have a huge chunk of my book written before i do that so that ill have the muse behind me and it wont just seem like a desperate ploy to meet and ogle him (which it isnt).
Yeah, that's sort of what I was saying about change, but badly, I think! I'm no fan of it either, but the little bastard marches on with its agenda whether we like it or not. I didn't mean to contradict your experience, just that I found the yearning took me somewhere I didn't expect. I could still yearn for England if I thought about it - I just try not to, too much. Sorry it's making you so sad.

Hmm... not sure why, but my Trouble Radar is going, 'Nooooo! Don't message him! Don't go there!' But I suppose sometimes the only way to soothe the curiosity itch is to scratch it.

Books sounds like it's taking shape!
 
oh haha, i see. i would never feel like i have to go out for dinner with my work colleagues and be sociable. the way i see it, if i want to see people from work (and i dont), ill go to work.

"some silent, hairy greek bloke on the go" :lbf:
Don't you do that over there? Have a 'works Christmas do'? No-one really wants to go, but everybody feels obliged. Perhaps it's just the obliged part which is British.
 
I'm in a good mood today. No more weepy bunny (at least for now). I hope my literary muse doesn't go away. It was in full attendance when I was in the grip of emotional Sturm und drang.

Actually now that I think about it, I'm kind of sad my sadness went away--it was really good!! I hope it comes back.
Glad you're feeling happier (I think).
 
you might as well call your book "a catalogue of all the ways in which i am a victim" because that's what it's reading like. it doesnt have much meat.
I think a guy I once danced with in Montreal when I was 12 or 13 will like my memoir.
 
How frick does one write a memoir? It's turning out to be puzzling.
It depends whether you want other people to read it, or whether it's just for your own benefit. If you want to be read, there has to be some element of entertainment. Otherwise it's just a shopping list of misery. There needs to be some structure with a proper story arc - ie you end up somewhere different from where you start, and there's a point to it all - as Rifke says, some learned insight or revelation. It also has to be believable.

Have you read Angela's Ashes? It's a masterclass in memoir writing. The events he describes are about as grim as anything you'll read, but there's a powerful narrative pulling you along, and the most magical, twinkly sense of humour - because most people don't want to wallow in misery for its own sake.
 
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