The New Life
My highly pretentious new life went very well for a very long time, I think it’s still going well, but it’s had a tiny slip.
A tiny stressful trip to Asda was to blame, an egg that missed the pan and splatted on the hob and then an eggshell that caught fire (who knew eggshells could burn so energetically?), followed by a few people being pricks.
I’ve developed some kind of allergy to something, which is pissing me off right now. In the space of a few hours huge blood-filled lumps are forming on my neck, and in the space of a few minutes bleeding profusely, and suddenly stopping and going away completely. Dark red blood. Bizarre. Ringing doctors tomorrow - fucking slackers.
I’m streamlined my life in a very anal way with the use of tiny little bags. My life now consists of bags each containing a daily activity. One with skincare, haircare, pills, sewing apparatus, individual-course related stuff, etc. That seems to be working.
I didn’t win £87million which knocked me back for a little while, but my mam won £24.20 so that was a little pick-up, tbh.
Ramble, ramble, ramble…
But yeah, I’ve got a decent sleeping pattern, a decent eating pattern, an exercise schedule, and I’m actually excited about writing my next essay.
Taking a new approach on this next one. I’m tired of the generic sexuality study approach, with a feminist bearing on each text claiming that men are bastards, women are amazing, so I’m doing it differently. I’m looking at castration anxiety, penis envy, fear of puberty, (etc) in Romanticism, and relating it to Gothic literature about beastiality, and may stretch back to Medieval incest literature.
I’m also entering a writing competition in Vogue.
And this year I will stop fannying around and just finish my anthology, so I can finally move onto the next thing. My next collection will be much more focused. I’ve got a new approach that doesn’t take a topic and dissect it, which is very immature, but takes a situation and applies (often subverted/troubled) theory to it. It seems to be working better. It’s more academically acceptable/flashy/fashionable anyway.
You don’t get very far in this life trying to be ‘different’.
You get far pretending to be trying to be different, but following carefully etched pathways of difference (that relate wholly to normativity, anyway).
Misanthropy needn’t be a limiting thing. Utilise it. Milk everything for everything you can get. Negativity reaps it’s rewards, too. No-one ever got very far wearing rose-tinted speccies.
Off to see an old film today at the Cornerhouse. It’s Sunday, day of rest (thankyou God for some respite) and I plan to rest.
I’ve took rest to a new level and skipped shaving.
REBEL.
