Last week I talked about my love for Post Office and then trailed off into something. This week I’d like to preach about other great books that I enjoy. I thought about twenty different topics while coming up with the one for last week. I can remember at least five. Not sure that I will get there by the end, but we can hope.
Lets start with a cliché book that most of us were forced to read in school, but I actually enjoyed. Not in school, but years later. I have this weird thing where if you tell me to read something… Well I’m not… I mean by force. By all means keep suggesting titles. I do check those out. I had the same problem in gym. I’ll run a fucking mile when I want to run a fucking mile. Put the stop watch away already damn….The book is called Animal Farm by George Orwell.
Even though I’m really into history. That isn’t why I like the book. Strip that all away. Stripe away that it is about government, countries, and all that political shit. Do you still like the book? That is why I love this book. I like all the political stuff and find all of it more fascinating than I have time to get into right now, but most of all I love the simplicity of the story. I am overwhelmed with wonder at the way George Orwell’s story about a farm could be so powerful on the surface. Which is why I didn’t like this book in school.
In school we lost this. We lost the simplicity of the story because they wanted to teach us something. The deeper meaning of it all. But that’s the fucking thing about Animal Farm. The story is so simple that it natural teaches you something. It sticks with you and when you look back on it as you grow older… As you grow older it is like a bomb going off in your head.
Now that I am so removed from school. Now that I have been in the world. Lived in this world. Animal Farm speaks louder to me than ever before. Each character is someone we know. I work with a Clover, I’m bossed around by a Napoleon, I happily champion for a Snowball, we all know a Squealer, and I am Boxer. At my job I am the work horse. At work if they want something done they call me in. I knock it out and I move on. And like Boxer I am often left behind.
I am treated as though I am stupid. As though Ambrose couldn’t get it. Here go throw another case or go do this. I carry people on my back. I help everyone around me for the greater good. So that everyone can have an easier time at work. I can do it so why not? Because it isn’t fair. That isn’t how life should work. Everyone should be pulling their own weight when it comes to the job. Problem is that often this doesn’t happen. Once established as a Boxer always going to be a Boxer. No matter how hard I try to break free from this role. I am what I am. We all have our place in this fucked up farm.
Okay now insert all that political under tone and what you have is a great fucking book. A book that as a writer I hold above me as a bench mark. Can I write something this fucking good. No, but I’m going to try until I do. Because the world needs a work horse and if I have to make a fucking windmill to do it. I’ll make a fucking windmill to do.
I may have written myself into a hole. I know I’m always in a hole. Maybe a side hole? That sounds strange. What I mean is I need to recharge. Regroup my thoughts about everything. Call it writers block if you want, but I have been writing. I’ve been working on my next project Running Into Traffic. Full title is Running Into Traffic with a Pair of Scissors and a Glow Stick. Safety First. For those of you unfamiliar I like long ass book titles. My first short story collection was titled, Drinking Bleach to Stay Alive and my poem collection is called And Other Things From This Time. I cut them down to Drinking Bleach and And Other Things. This one will get a title cut down as well. Could you imagine the original title on a book shelf or in a review?
I’m sure you are thinking that this is for comedic purposes. Honestly it is not, but it did work out that way. Like Chewing on Glass I like to find fun ways to do awful things. Hints Drinking Bleach or Running Into Traffic. I also like to throw off the scent of what I am working on. Both titles don’t scream short story collection. Hopefully over time they will, but I can see at present that they don’t. No I don’t care.
I decided a long as time ago that for short story collections I would use something arcane for titles. Years ago when I was putting together Drinking Bleach I fell in love with that title though originally that was not my plan. In fact I had no plan to ever write bleach. What I wanted to write was A Lie my novel, but at the time I had never written a single story. So I wrote my ideas down for A Lie and what I wanted to say. Put it away kind of and began my first short story. Which was To Become King. I know an action story was the first story I ever wrote. Very strange indeed.
Lost focus there for a second. How I came to the title Drinking Bleach. Before I began writing or wanting to be a writer I wanted to be in a band. Music is a huge part of everything I do. I listen to music constantly. Sadly I have no musical talent. But what I do have is imagination. I use to imagine that I had this amazing band called The Virgin Suicides. (Yes the short story The Last Great Band is based on them. Which can be found in Drinking Bleach.) So they needed an album title and that is where I came up with Drinking Bleach. To fit into that whole gimmick. I had a lot of gimmicks for this band. I have a taste for the theatrics.
The idea for the cover was to reproduce that party scene from the film, but with all the kids drinking bleach instead of punch. Pretty basic. (Also I hate the smell of bleach so it seemed like a really shitty way to go.) This was also supposed to be the book cover, but that never happened. I went with a whole other picture with the idea of going back later and changing it. It is now years later and I still haven’t bothered. I like the current cover, but it doesn’t convey what I wanted to say. If you follow me on Twitter it is basically the same story about the Penguin…. I need to change that.
Or anyone who wants to listen…
This beat is infectious… The soundtrack to my life… Also, If you are interested in seeing this movie you should, but it is weird as fuck… David Lynch weird… The music is on point all day though…
This is a separate song… Much slower, but it puts me in a good trance…
If you want to go further down the rabbit hole… Die Antwoord… ZEF… ZEF all day…
Okay, I am done… Anyone who hasn’t been to Mel or Clever’s Blogs… You should check them out… They love music… writing… and all things really…
Why do none of my links ever work… Please copy and paste… if they didn’t work… Okay, I’m off to sleep or my version of it… Which is reading until I pass out before work…
Feel as if I’ve adopted insomnia though it is more as if insomnia adopted me. Awake or asleep doesn’t matter my mind is always running. A constant over saturation of ideas that are very much independent of one another. One after the other over and over with no resolve. Who have I become and what must I do to get rid of all these wasted thoughts? Are these things really important to me anymore?
Judge each other on the idea that we know anyone. Peace in the idea that we understand something we have no idea about. Ignorance is tolerated because we are all ignorant. There is no solution to any of this. Constantly asking ourselves, myself what is it that I know to be true?
We evolve in time within our minds. Not the same person I was before I died yet I feel the same as I ever have. Chasing a shadow in the dark. Searching for whatever it is that I have become. Monster or man what is the difference this far along?
At this point in time they have become one. Not sure I’m okay, but I’ll survive. Not sure I even have or had a choice in all this time. They say we do, but they also say there is a God that makes every decision for us. Conflicting conflict right there if you ask me. The world is evolve or die. God or man the laws are the same. Simple and complex all at the same time.
Diving right into the subject on this one. I’m sure I’ll dip in and out of anything I have to say. Thought about all of this six hours ago. My favorite book of all time is Post Office by Charles Bukowski. If you haven’t read it well. Well you should have by now. Bukowski is something else. Amazon has labels, the library has a section, but to me Bukowski is life. With that said is Post Office the greatest book ever written? Probably not. Could careless if anyone or no one else likes it.
The thing about Post Office that I love so much is this feeling. This feeling that life will never get better. This feeling that life is a trap. This feeling that you will always be stuck doing the same thing forever. I struggle with these issues on a daily basis as I’m sure most of us do. This doesn’t go away as we get older. But in a sense you have to settle. I hate to use that word and by definition what I’m about to say would go against that word. You get a fucking Treasures I’m writing here.
Point is that in life not everything is perfect all the time. Not every aspect of your life is what you dreamed it would be. One realizes with time that the only power they have is to choose which aspects of their lives to focus on. You can only spin so many fucking plates until it all comes crashing down.
I work hard at my job. Ask any of them and I’m awesome or whatever, but that place could burn down tomorrow. I’d be more pissed that I now have to find another job I don’t care about then anything to do with that place. I settled for my job. Oh well could give a fuck. I need money for things I actually care about.
I didn’t settle on my family or the time that I spend with them. I don’t settle on my writing. Maybe after draft eighteen, but most of the time I don’t. These are things that I can make perfect. Things that I can care about. Things that make me happy. Yes I have that emotion somewhere deep down in there. Things I won’t settle for.
Post Office didn’t teach me any of this. What Post Office did was made me realize I was trapped. That I was lost. That I was going to get stuck. Post Office made me think and that is why books are important. I saw the parallels that I was living to the main character, and I knew that, that was not what I wanted. I knew I didn’t want to just get by in this life. I had a goal and I needed to do more than hope. I needed to do more than let the waves drag me under. Fuck what happens. That is what Post Office left me with. This feeling that what was going to happen was going to happen anyways. Might as well fuck with it until it does. We get one life. Take a chance.
“In the morning it was morning and I was still alive. Maybe I’ll write a novel, I thought. And then I did.”
Charles Bukowski, Post Office
Chewed on this for a bit too long, but this Saturday… Tomorrow… Little Fears, Weird Shit with Alex, I… Will be watching George A Romero’s Land of the Dead… Thought you’d all like to know that…Oh and we will be live tweeting as we do it..
Starting at 9pm London (4pm U.S.) time… So check us out on Twitter… and or join us as we talk about our hopes and feelings…. The dreams that came and went…. Maybe a thing or two about blood and zombies… Honestly I’m not sure… Half the time I don’t even know what I am doing any more in this lost landscape of time… Okay I am being told to wrap it up… Now is not the time to get existential.. But tomorrow?.. Who knows…
We will be using a Service called Chili Cinema… You can rent or buy all kinds of movies… Check it out here… https://uk.chili.com/
Follow Weird Shit with Alex
Follow Little Fears
Blog Handles? (What is this Hackers?)
Check out Little Fears: https://littlefears.co.uk/
Check Out Weird Shit With Alex: https://weirdshitwithalex.blog/
I thought about making every other word Bold just to fuck with you… So you are welcome… Also Girls Trip was available?? and we went with zombies?? Next time I’m picking the movie…
The weatherman calls for rain, but then again it always rains here. The rain is cold and it is harsh against my clothes and against my skin. The rain comes down and it pours, and when it doesn’t pour it turns into mist that surrounds me to always let me know that it is there with me. The rain will never leave.
The weatherman calls for rain. He is an idiot in a village full of them. The rain builds up on the edges of the streets and seeps on to the sidewalk. The rain puddles look like lakes on the ground. I feel as if I am Jesus walking on water, but the holes in my shoes bring me closer to the ground than closer to god.
The weatherman calls for rain, but what does it matter? When it rains it pours and it makes days seem like weeks and weeks like months. Time stands still here only the rain and the weatherman are constant around me. Some days it burns and some days it heals, but its presence is always with me. I wonder what it would be like without all the rain.
The weather man calls for rain, and I assume my place once again.
Story blog how strange… This is a flash fiction micro tale about nothing inspired by my time in Washington State… Fun fact it rains there.. a lot.. I remember walking to work and dodging the tidal waves created by the city buses… For a place with so much rain it always seemed as the roads were flooded… Too broke to afford even the bus. I often arrived to work soaking wet.. It was very humbling and honestly some days I miss it. Maybe it’s the youth I miss… Not caring about anything… Of course that wasn’t even the case then… Everything seemed way more important than it ever actually was.. I worked in a fucking video store.. haha…
Another reason I wrote this story was because I could careless about the weather.. Not the environment.. I care about that.. Put your fangs back in… What I mean is that I don’t care if it is raining or not… It either is or it isn’t.. So to me weather specialist are kind of pointless… Tying it all together… There might be some more symbolism in there somewhere… Not sure what it could be..