New Look.

I have finally got round to changing the look of the blog. It isn't a massive change, but a change nonetheless. In the interest of getting to know you all better I have also added my email and skype to the bar at the right. Use it wisely if you wish.

How I Spend My Days Part 1.

I can't speak for all writers; I can't speak for all people, let alone the important ones, the writers. Artists of any kind are the only people I care to know about and they are not the people you get to hear about on a daily basis. The news isn't filled with stories about how between a wank and a sandwich the writer wrote his best sentence yet. There is no thought given to these unique moments because we are led to believe that people dying in war is newsworthy. I guess it is, but I find it hard to care. Someone being killed in a fight of some sort is nowhere near as surprising as the creation of something from the unique mind of a free thinking human not limited by nonsensical constraints. This is clear by the never ending fiction being fucked into your brain by the intrusive and metaphorical cock of the mainstream media.

But all this is unimportant. All this is just the beliefs of someone with no real care about the spreading of democracy; no real care for the paradoxical holy war that is being fought with our money, no real care for the status of oil rich countries I'll never visit for the various reasons my Government has imposed on us. But all this is unimportant.

So I spend my days writing; figuring out how to put it down best, hating the entire world until it makes some kind of sense and then all is right with the world, at least in my immediate surroundings. I wake up late & I drink coffee and smoke cigarettes; I eat, I masturbate, ignore my financial woes in favour of writing about whatever comes up, I shower, moisturise and go out into a world I often hate just to end up back in front of my computer because only then does my day start to make sense. You can be anything you want to be, take on anything you want to, but you have no control over it really. If I had control over it I would probably not have chosen to be a writer, I would have chosen to be a multimillionaire playboy with little or no brain function, I would while away my time between the legs of the type of girl who only sleeps with rich playboys with loads of stuff and things that impress that type of creature. I would be oblivious to everything that pains me, but also everything that pleases me. That would be the price to pay. I wouldn't know the buzz of being published on some website or in some paper, but I also wouldn't know the anguish of the story to begin with.

All this is unimportant. What you do for a living is unimportant, what you do for enjoyment is all that matters. My vague political beliefs dictate that I can never have a job working for a big, faceless corporation. It isn't even political in nature; my reasoning, because politics is nonsense that too many people think is important, but it is just nonsense created to make us feel like we are involved. But my reasons are just, I think big corporations should die and I would never be part of it. Good luck to you if that is how you make your money, but it isn't for me. Integrity is a poor man's affliction after all.

I rarely consider posting these things. This kind of rambling isn't fit for publication, but recently I have learned to care less about that. If you have something to say then you should say it. I'm working towards gaining some kind of self belief so that I won't take things too personally now that I am pitching my biggest project to date. The last thing any publishers need is me walking into their office with a bat and breaking someone's legs because they rejected my book. I don't take criticism well from strangers & I don't think I should be expected to. What I need is to be able to ignore it, but sometimes that is an impossibility. Sometimes all that we have at our disposal is the threat of very real, very violent repercussions. I learned that from the manager of a band called The Subways who I met on tour with Sucio some years ago. He told me that after a scathing review from the wanky music press he went and threatened to kick the writer's teeth in. Some may see that as an over-reaction, others may see it as completely justified. Indeed, after a series of death threats I received from an American soldier I emailed him and told him to follow me on twitter so he knew when I would be in the States, then we could have a fight. I am no hardman, I have been battered more times than I would care to remember, but if someone threatens you there is only one response; attack, jump in teeth first. More often than not the threat will be enough to put your adversary off. But keep in mind that sometimes you will catch a really bad beating.

But you have to learn how to take a beating. How much can you possibly know about yourself if you've never taken a beating?