Travel journalism.
User generated material!
I'm so bored. His voice makes me more sleepy. I don't care. Who cares about spa towns of Britain? Who cares how they evoke the past?
Spain is nice. I like it. I wish I could still speak fluently. Why does he have to like spain though? Spain is my country. Russia too. And Norway. I am the world. It is mine. My oyster.
So much left to do, but when can I do it all? Can I do it all? I want to do it all but what if I can't do it all? Fear. Scared. Worry. Anxiety.
Too much anxiety. Unable to sit still. Unable to concentrate.
He's reading a story. A story about his travels in Spain. I DON'T CARE.
The back of my neck hurts. I've been awake too long. Tiredness bleeds behind eyes.
Raspberries are tasty. Grey sky. Mongrel dogs? Who cares?!
I wish I had more Malteasers. These chairs are not comfy.
I wish I was better at creative writing – better poet.
There's a boy who I like but he is not here.
Vodka. Want.
Russia is my country. I want to go, know, see, learn, speak.
Hideous place. Not there, but here.
Flowers pretty springtime. Where do sunflowers grow?!
Is he talking about travel writing or the history of pesticide and drugs?
Bubbles bursting. Race riots.
Ability to entertain and bring in serious issues. I am not entertained.
My serious issue is me. I am an issue. Anxiety worry depression boredom lack of concentration need a drink metallic mouth insomnia fidget. I can't sit still
Food and travel. I like food. Malteasers, cheesecake, bananas, blueberry muffin b b b b
My appetite escapes. I want food but I don't want food.
He says he travels a lot. Lucky him. No need to rub it in. give me money – I will travel. Travel the world. My world. My oyster. To the moon and back. Man on the moon. Neil Armstrong. Strong arms. I have weak arms. Drained and exhausted.
Audio and video for mainstream media websites. Business travel.
New York! New York! The big apple. Is it red or green? Royal gala or golden delicious?
He's STILL talking. I must keep writing thinking doing. If I stop, I could pass out.
He's trying to kill me. Vendetta. He knows I don't care and he is talking (taking?) his revenge.
Revenge. A dish best served cold. How cold? Frozen
Is stream of consciousness good? Virginia Woolf Richard Hill Rosalind Hill.
Write think think write
Good for the soul. Let it all out.
I'm scared. The future. Its painful. I can feel the pain. Feel the pain of people I care about.
Lies. Lies disguised as honesty.
Honesty is the best policy. The best? Ignorance is bliss. Bliss?
Honesty hurts. Ignorance hurts. Lies hurt.
Everest – snow conditions bad.
Could I climb Everest? How long would it take? I don't even know where it is. THAT is ignorance. Not bliss.
The Guardian.
A guardian would be nice. To be looked after cared for protected.
I wish I didn't care. Maybe too much care. Care is painful too. And drugs. My mind is messy.
Messy metaphor munching mind matter and making matters more messy than metaphorical madness. Mmm mmm mmm mmm m m m m m
Madness.
Diary of a Madman (madwoman?)
Gogol Dostoevsky Stevenson Jekyll and Hyde Doppelganger Double split personality schizophrenic
Child inside wins.
Elevated music. Low rent occupation.
What is he saying?
Africa in the new century. Heart of Darkness. My heart of darkness. Black dark heart struggling to beat.
Heart attack aorta ventricle vein capillary artery
Art
Artful voyeur? Seamus Heaney Billie Holiday Good Morning Heartache
Good afternoon
Travel writing can be a lonely experience and can lead to drink.
Experience of both
Loneliness and the consuming alcohol
Consume consume consume and DESTROY
Travels in Russia and Siberia.
Jealousy. It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds upon.
Change.
I keep being promised a change. I can't believe anymore. I doubt fear worry.
13.40pm there's still 20 mins left of torture
Soviet bureaucracy
Communism socialism Marxism
Dogmatic corruption – rife, universal, encompassing
Communism fascism nationalism Catholicism, any ism. Idealism. Democracy-ism. Journalism.
Is there a point anymore? This career tortures me I want to write but they give me rules to follow. Why do I have to follow the rules?
Rules and regulation generate corruption and boredom.
Bored bored bored bored bored I want to live but I am being bored to death
Need for escape
There's silence in the room. Have I died? Or just sleeping?
Oh sleep! Precious precious sleep – how it is missed!
I think this is the most notes I've ever taken in a lecture.
The creative stimulation of BOREDOM.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Rosalind,
Great stream of consciousness. Don't you find little gems in which you can use in other writing? Did you find any in that piece?
Write on!
Jamie
http://thecrux-mentalimage.blogspot.com/
The above gave me the image of how one would speak when under the influence of cocaine, but I think my mind works like that sometimes. Under the surface I just think random thoughts compulsively that are linked together by the smallest concepts, but they expand and bloom.
English Ivy is a pest where I live. As is Stinky Bob. They're plants, of course, but I like the idea that the common names of those plants can describe people as well.
Post a Comment