Friday, 2 April 2010

Champion Chumpington

Yeah, so this is like a self promotion exercise. I really want you to give me £2 cos I want you to read my writing and think I'm really great and like, tell your little sister I'm soooooo dreamy so she can think of me when she's in the bath.

Its pretty hard to hit the right tone with this blog. I mean, what do people want to hear? What do I want to say? Is anyone reading? Do I hate the internet? Do I just hate myself? Do I hate everyone else? Why am I still talking?

Being a 'writer' seems so ridiculous at any time other than when you are writing something. This stuff - writing about writing - doesn't seem to count. Its a strange sensation. All I really want to share is my self doubt, but what the hell is the point of that? No one wants to hear it, not even me. But here I am, being all reflexive and talking about talking like a bewildered, narcissistic knob.

Anyway. Blogs are useless. I might delete this thing... but I probably won't


1 comment:

  1. as if blogs are rubbish. theyre absolutely the best way to convince yourself that your soul crushingly shit job is just a phase and that writing your inner thought down in a free internet based website for a few eager followers is somehow going be the short cut to a hugely rewarding career in writing and shit.

    it wont, but its something to hold onto...

    (check out for other insightful glimpses into the human pscyhe and dead animals and that...)