It’s just a blank wall to some.
But I see angels and demons.
I see what is inside of me.
If at any time, I couldn’t get in touch with how I felt, I always knew that I could just stare at a wall. If I saw smiles then I was happy and if I saw frowns then I was sad. It was as straightforward as that.
And in that simplistic way we have of searching for explanations after the event, I find a snippet from an old psychology class that tells me that we project what we feel (onto blank walls).
I wrote those words because I am stuck. Wheels spinning. Mud flying.
The thing is – I’m in a strange place with my writing.
At a crossroads.
Kinda.
Another simplistic explanation anyone?
Okay – I blame it on the Open University Creative Nonfiction module I’m trying to engage with. You see – it involves telling the truth.
It’s not that I have any particular problem with telling the truth. No. It’s more that I prefer to embellish the truth a little. I like to add things on like a man might apply polish to his boots, or a woman might like to add earrings, a necklace, bangles, a belt and a handbag to her outfit.
I like to feel that I’m free to land alien spaceships on my front garden at a time of my choosing. But to write about this would be false.
That, and I’ve been eating too much sugar and chocolate. It’s left me a bit demotivated.
So there you have it – a picture of me right now.
In words.
You probably could do aliens landing on your lawn cor cnf… as a dream diary…
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I did it already – it was the first piece of fiction I wrote since school. June 2013. I’ve been writing ever since. Still don’t make it true, though. 😉
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Don’t all good storytellers embellish the truth in one way or another? On the flip side, when certain details of a story are skipped because they’re irrelevant and/or boring, we could say that the storyteller omitted parts of the truth, couldn’t we? What’s true or not isn’t always that simple.
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Storytellers. Hmm. Some are liars and some are entertainers. Fine line I would imagine. Even the storyteller may not know the truth due to the unreliability of memory. Food for thought for sure. 🙂
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The unreliability of memory is a fascinating concept. I recently saw a movie called Embers, which is about a neurological epidemic affecting most of the world’s population, erasing their memories.
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Just watched the trailer for Embers – that looks like the kind of movie that I really like. I’ll watch out for that and watch it asap. Thanks. 🙂
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It’s a tad depressing.
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Dystopian fiction tends to be like that. Do you prefer Utopian?
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Nope, dystopian all the way please.
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… which leads to the assertion that you like to be depressed?
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I wouldn’t say I like being depressed. Depression is just familiar.
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Gotcha. I understand depression. I eat chocolate.
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I love chocolate, but that just doesn’t cut it for me. Running helps me a lot more.
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It’s the oxygen (and other chemicals) that you like. I like both. Running is better for shifting weight, and chocolate is worserer.
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Endorphins, please. ☺
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I heartily approve. Lean and mean – a running machine.
Is it appropriate yet for me to ask you why you like anonymity? That is – are you ready to answer the question?
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I was leaner before resuming office work again, as I was running every morning and doing a type of fasting – eat within a 6-hour period and fast for 18 hours. Most people would still call me lean, but they don’t see what I see. 😉
I prefer semi-anonymity because I don’t want people from my past (and I’m not just referring to ex-partners) to find me. Not because I would be in danger, but because I want…hmm…what do I want? I have to think about that.
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Sounds like me asking that question has made you look with fresh eyes. Hope it comes out good for you.
That fasting business sounds … useful. I understand that leaner people live longer and I plan to reach 120 problem free. Let’s see how that goes. 🙂
Tell me what you are. You’re aware, if course, that it’s possible to have … there’s a proper phrase for it – something like body dyspepsia – when you don’t see what is. Not that I’m saying you have it – but still – these things are out there, stalking the unwary. Much like you … 😁 😀
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I’ve thought more about your question about anonymity and discovered the main reason I don’t want to reveal my identity. It’s not a ‘pretty’ reason, but here it comes: I don’t like my background. That’s all I will say about that for now.
I’m no different to other women when it comes to the perception of my body. I’m bulgy around my hips, bum and thighs, even though most people around me wouldn’t think so.
Hey, that was a low blow. 😜
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Interesting reason. I shall not press you. Feel free to say more as and when you wish. 🙂
I once saved a young woman’s life (I tell myself) by accepting the shape she had developed as a woman. She was a skinny teen – straight up, straight down and extraordinarily pretty. As she matured a little more she got more shapely around the hips, bum and thighs. She stopped eating and stopped going out. Wanted to get back to her childish shape. Not going to happen. She claimed to her parents that she had no appetite and there was something wrong with her and blamed not eating on this. They took her to the doctors and they could find nothing wrong but she insisted and still didn’t eat. Maybe she really believed that there was something genuinely wrong. I was doing a psychology course at the time (and by coincidence, so was she – different venues). She told me not to psychoanalyse her (which, of course, means that she wanted me to). I was subtle about it though. In the end I only did two (well, maybe three) things. I told her that appetite is in the mind – it just comes around at the time of day when the body is usually given food (fact) and this was why she had no appetite. She had trained the body not to expect food at any time of the day. The second thing I did was to totally accept her the way she was. I flirted with her, chatted her up, made her feel attractive. In truth, she was attractive. She had a lovely personality – light, loving, friendly, caring, compassionate – all of that. The only other thing I did was keep on visiting her – always as a friend, even thought she made it clear that she would have liked more from me. I never put her down or turned her down, though – I was always light and subtle. Like I say, I just kept going round and kept going round to her house until one day she announced that she had a boy and that she was going to go out with him. Out, into the big, wild world – just like she did when I first met her. She was happy. She’d accepted herself. She saw herself as I saw her – an attractive, vivacious young woman. Hey, maybe I didn’t really save her life – but I made a difference, right?
Background, schmackground – I accept you for who you are, my friend. 😉
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You have a loving heart, Robert. 😊
I almost made myself anaemic when I was 14. I ate so little that I would shake uncontrollably from time to time, and my fingers would turn purple (like you, I can be colourful too 😉). I learned my lesson back then.
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Anaemic is not so good. I hope the scars in your heart healed. Actually – skip that – they have. 🙂
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How do you know?
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I don’t really. I just have the evidence that you seem to be functioning. 🙂
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Come to think of it, I like movies with happy endings too.
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Hmm – a complicated person, huh.
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Aren’t we all, to one degree or another? Did you finish your assignment last night? I’ll write more later…I’m walking and typing in -16°C, and feel the urgent need to put my gloves back on. ☺
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Yeah, put your gloves on without bothering to look at your phone would be my advice in -16°C!!
Finished the story – now writing the commentary. Looking good.
Anyhoo – back to the grind. Be good. 🙂
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Wise advice. 😉 I’m back in the warmth now. Just put on a pot of coffee for me and my colleagues (I never have more than one, and only at work in the morning).
Could I read it after you’re done?
I’m always good. 😊
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One cup of coffee per day. Nice rationing system. What happens if you break the rules?
It’s interesting to see light and scenery appearing around you. As you tell me more about the office etc. the backdrop changes from black to white to shades of grey to coloured swatches to movement to sound to smells to conversation to laughter to enjoyment to … reality.
You are not allowed to read it until the piece has been marked. If I get a good mark, I may show you. If not – it may never be seen again. Ever!
Good to know you are always good. Morality?
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If I drink more than one cup of coffee a day, or drink one in the afternoon, I sometimes get acid reflux. To tackle the so-called afternoon slump, I go for a 15-minute walk instead of drinking another coffee. I would love to have an adjustable desk so that I could alternate between sitting and standing.
Do you see me in your vision of the office? ☺
I certainly hope you get a good mark! Then, I may be granted the privilege of reading it. 😉
As for morality, I live by Dalai Lama’s sage advice: “If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do them no harm.”
Is your profile picture of you in your younger days? (My not-so-hidden agenda: to find out how old you are without telling you how old I am.)
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Ah come now – you have already seen my Christmas message in your perambulations around my blog so you know that the profile picture is an older one. 🙂 I am 52. I don’t mind what age your body is because I only know your mind, and that is ageless and timeless.
Sounds like a good morality. Runs into trouble when one has agendas.
Privilege? Surely you jest. It’s already on my blog (in draft one form) anyway. I’ve just finished draft three, but the essence remains.
Actually, it would be quite cool to have an adjustable desk – one that I can take outside on a nice, sunny day.
No – I can’t see you. I have no description of your physicality yet. I can only (vaguely) see the things around you, and a lot of that is extrapolated from my own experience.
Acid reflux, huh – that’s grim. If you want the same buzz, just take 20 (or so) deep breaths. Don’t do it when you’re standing on the stairs. 😀
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You got me. I swallowed the canary. 🙊
Why are you using such an old profile pic?
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I like the shot. It’s not actually that old – maybe 5 years or so?
What does ‘swallowed the canary’ mean? I could look it up, but why do that when I can get it straight from the horse’s mouth – assuming you’ve done chewing and swallowing. 🙂
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I like the picture too. You just started going grey in the last few years?
I was referring to myself as the cat that swallowed the canary, otherwise expressed as caught red-handed.
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I guess it’s only in the last half decade or so that I’ve been progressively grey. That is – for avoidance of doubt – my hair has been grey. The rest of me is a variety of colours – pink, brown, blue (when cold), green (when sick) and even white (on my bum). I revel in colour. 🙂
Ah-ha – red handed stalking! 😀
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Better to have grey hair than be bald, right? On your head, at least. 😜 You don’t feel the urge to colour it? Not that I think you should or anything. ☺
What about white on your teeth? Or are they more yellow?
I’m embarrassed about the stalking.
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Hey, hey – nothing to be embarrassed about! When you’re as popular and handsome as I as you got to expect a little interest. 😉
Yeah – totally ironic.
No – never fancied colouring everything. Maybe I could change my toothpaste, though. Suggestions?
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Red nail polish! Got any tattoos?
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Just checked my teeth out – they are white enough – no red nail polish necessary. 🙂
No. Never been into self-harm. No tats and no piercings.
Tell me what you pierced and why.
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No tattoos?! I don’t perceive it as self-harm. Getting inked is no more painful than epilation (hair removal).
I have only one tattoo.
Naah, I don’t have any weird piercings. Only three in each earlobe. I’ve never felt inclined to pierce anything else.
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Yeah, six (extra) holes in your body is enough. 😉
Send me a photo of your tattoo. 🙂
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How would I do that? No emails allowed, remember?
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Yes, I remember. Apologies. Inappropriate.
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No apologies necessary.
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I got the tattoo in the UK!
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Oh, then it’s prolly the letters ‘I love’ under the hair of one eyebrow and ‘the uk’ under the hair of the other – in tiny little letters so that when the hair grew back it did not offend the people back home. 😀
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Nope, not even close. Why would I get a tattoo on my face (no matter how small) for the whole world to see?
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Tattoos are intimate things. An intimate subject. Talking of them is a way of expressing intimacy.
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I minored in psychology in university. 😉
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Me too! What was your major? Mine was Computing. 🙂
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Linguistics. ☺
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Of course! I should have guessed that. 🙂
And now you’re working with numbers. That’s a whole new language by itself!
If you could have a chip embedded in your brain that allowed you to know what people think, would you go for it?
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Probably not, unless I can be selective about whose thoughts to read. And you?
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I’m all for being chipped up. Can’t wait. 🙂
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Forgot to ask you the other day about the bears in your bedroom. I suppose you were referring to teddy bears?
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Yeah, we don’t got no grizzly bears in York. 🙂
I sometimes offer one of the bears a bite of my toast, but he always says the same thing. I leave you to guess what that is. Clue – its a euphemistic term for having already eaten enough.
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I’m full?
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Keep going. Think what teddy bears have in their belly. 🙂
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I’m stuffed! 😁
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Yay! 😀
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Your truth, doesn’t have to be my truth and vice versa…More important, I think, is that you feel good, happy, with and about what ever you choose to write.
XxX
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Sometimes growth is painful. The pain and the growth are both necessary.
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Yes, I totally agree! XxX
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