12 August 2005

is that a tumbleweed I see?

alright guys? Welcome to sparseville, population... fuck knows. I don't really feel the need to justify myself, honest, I just needed a way to start this post and the ol' "sorry about this place being desolation row" routine is always a handy device.

up until a couple of weeks back I've been working on a film, a poem adaptation, based on Soma. It consists of a couple of loose narrative threads that are more visceral than clever or beautiful or even structured. Let's just say that I saw alot of sick and twisted films growing up and they left their mark. It still isn't finished, there are still things left to shoot, and it's all up in the air. The good news (depending on your perspective) is that it will hopefully be going online, and onto a DVD, and the poem will be published in an accompanying book. IF I finish the motherfucker.

Since then I've just been freaking out about moving. I ain't gonna get all psychoanalytical here, but let's just say I had a really shit time the other week and it left me feeling kinda pathetic, self-loathing and self-pitying. Nuff said, k? I've also been without a computer after a viral infection and a hard-drive crashing, and my inability to sort it out may have contributed to forementioned mental state. I've lost all my writing, mp3s and the various other files I've accumulated over the years. I dunno if I'm gonna be able to get them back, but it ain't looking good. I'm just thankful that my porn collection was so small and feeble that that loss didn't contribute to my poor mental health.

Fuck, I lied. That was a little psychoanalytical. Oh well.

Tommorrow I move to Newport. I've packed some stuff, but haven't really been sure what I want to take, what I want to leave here, and what I want to discard. Tommorrow is crunch time. I gotta pack my arse off, as well as do grocery shopping and pick up a DVD player. I'm already arranging a gathering in the evening for alcoholic and cannabis related mischief. It may just be a couple of people, it may turn into a full blown party. Either way I'm gonna be convulsing on cloud 9. This is a big step for me. I'm 22 and have never lived away from the safety of the homestead. I've already started romantisising the abject poverty I'm gonna be living in until my student loan arrives. Having an overactive imagination can be a godsend. On the other hand, it can also picture you being beaten to a pulp by the older brother and crew of the little shithead you beatup for giving you shit WAY before you even meet the fucker. It's a mixed blessing.

The big change that this move will thrust upon my existence is that I'm going to be without an internet connection in my house for the first time in years. This means that posting will become alot more infrequent (no smirking at the back), but that hopefully the articles will be alot longer, as I'm going to have to write them out before I find somewhere to post them from. Expect a number of articles on Newport in all it's shitty post-industrial urban decay. Expect poetry. Expect Vitriol. Expect pseudo-journalism in that classic gonzo/joyride style. Objectivity is dead, baby. Long live subjective reality. MY subjective reality. Damn straight.

I'll see you fuckers on the other side.

( with apologies to Mortimer )

additional:: Tommorrow is now today. Damn, those mornings can sure sneak up you, huh?