Earlier this year there was a period when I considered facebook my main creative outlet. Now I feel uncomfortable and pretentious using the term ‘main creative outlet’ but this blog is probably it. Why? Partly because of read Selected Unpublished Blog Posts Of A Mexican Panda Express Employee and Nothing. Partly because this is what I need at the moment to translate my life into something conceivable. I need to read more David Markson. I need to understand what I’m trying to do.
I wish I worked on the three books that I keep thinking about as much as I work on this blog. Maybe their time will come. Maybe it will not.
Today as I was leaving the house my sister asked me what I was reading. I said ‘Nothing’ and showed her this book and she laughed.
As I was walking reading this book and old man coming the other way up the street said ‘Boo’ and startled me and I felt concerned for a disproportionate amount of time.
Just outside the library a person who asks people to sign up for donations said to me ‘Is that book about nothing?’ and I said ‘Yes’ and kept walking before she could say anything else.
My favourite spot in the library is taken so I am sitting here instead.
As I was walking to this spot I saw this book on a shelf. It interested me but I cannot get it out because I set myself the rule of only two things borrowed from the library at a time. Is these rules useful? Sometimes reading one page is an achievement. Sometimes it is a joy. Is it better to force myself to read a book I know I want to read and already know so much about or to open something new? A balance is probably best. I need to find the correct ratio. But a ratio needs to be monitored and regulated and that is more rules.
I was hoping to maybe write some of some other things while I was here but I don’t have time. It is time for me to go to my dad’s school and work with children. Work with children could mean that I am doing the same work as the children. Afterwards I will come back here. Maybe I will work on writing things that I want to write, or maybe I will find Project X on the shelf again and read it and read it and read it
I am writing these words on my return to the library:
Late to my second shift in a row and I have only worked two shifts but an hour and a half isn’t a shift and it isn’t really work, isn’t even really volunteering, they are doing me a favour letting me come in. Today I did get to help the kids with reading. I tried to make clever/funny comments on the text to impress them. I learnt that lions cannot chew and have to swallow their food whole. There is a boy named Caesar who is intelligent but easily distracted and I am trying to help him focus. Next week I think I will go for longer. I will lead Caesar by example in focussing.
I swam in the rain. I had a medium pace lane to myself and I enjoyed the privacy for my selfprescribed 30 length but then was chased off by two colourful swimcapped men. I showered and in the changing room saw old men’s penises. There were bikinied girls in the spa.
Here I am. With Nothing on one side of me and Project X on the other and instead of choosing between them I will probably try to make them complement each other. Typing into this documented called fdsasgvvsad. This post is too glossy and not honest enough but I cannot censor my lies. This blog has rules and one of them is that there are no rules.
I have decided I am buying books for Christmas presents. I am supporting good literature and not giving a fuck what my friends and family actually want.
There is an election three days. I still haven’t researched the various parties policies. I am aware of my ignorance. Is that an oxymoron? My sister is working at a poll booth if that’s what they’re called. She will give people their ballots if that’s what they’re called. See how I am ignorant?
And now I have run out of words that will fit here and I will try to fit words into other places
I am adding these last words as I lie in bed:
I read two and a half pages of Nothing, unable to fully hold the words in my mind. But that’s okay because that is similar what Blake is describing.
I read one and a bit pages of Project X, which wasn’t enough to figure out what it is. But that’s okay because I can return to it tomorrow.
I walked on tight calves as my stomach swallowed itself. When I arrived home the leftover lasagne I had expected had disappeared and I began berating myself for not buying a meal in town but then my mum swooped in and piled me with pita and hummus and bread and beans. I drank water and ate a nashi pear
I'm tired
