The Belle Epoch?

05:09:00
Recently, I had a discussion with Ellen about the point of what I’m doing.

This is a monologue. Ellen won’t be featured in this conversation. You may ask why but like I said with Henry what fool of a writer tells the world about a major character before the book’s already begun?

So I begin,
I know what my blog is about. It’s about being on the edge. I can’t tell you what I’m yearning for. I don’t even know that I know myself. If I did it would be useless to you because I don’t think I could capture it with words, not completely at least. I understand that everything’s going to change. I just want to live before it does. I just want to hold on to 21. I want to write a blog because it’s age appropriate. I’d like to get a tattoo but having a permanent mark of my youth and inexperience doesn’t appeal to me. I have this image of me as a 70 year old walking along the surf (as you do) with my tattoo visible on my tired sagging skin. I want to dress like a fool because I can. Students are excused for wearing the most stupid impractical things. I can literally dress like a manikin everyday of the week. I want to hold on to my last years of irresponsibility. I know that I’m not Peter Pan so I can’t live in a world of perpetual youth. Most of all don’t want to look back and wish that I had done more.

So I guess I’ve got my work cut out for me... 

Happy Days,
Afam

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Notes on Exorcism

03:54:00
I haven’t got a lot of time today. Usually I spend hours staring at the blank page begging for inspiration to strike me from the heavens. But today I read a splendid a question. This question actually begs an answer and if I don’t attempt to answer it now then the answer will be lost to me forever. Such is the strength of my memory, sometimes I’m convinced that I must be part gold fish.

If your thoughts are not yours then who are you?

‘I have no will’ said Fludd, with a note of satisfaction. ‘I am a battle ground simply, and yet I live and walk about in the world. But there are chinks of light, moments of stasis, between one state and another.

I think that the answer to the question lies somewhere in these lines stolen from the Children’s book by A.S BYATT.

It is necessary for one to be clear and concise about this delicate topic. Also it strikes me that the first point of assault (on the question) is the context. Why are your thoughts not your own? What beguiling devil has seized control of your cognitive abilities and rendered you a puppet in an era where puppets are both scary and annoying? Anyone who has seen the magic round about or the tellytubbies will testify to this. Was control given up willingly or was it given up willingly only for the puppet to realise that control hadn’t been given up willingly at all, instead it had been wrested from them in a series of underhanded tactics? I merely infer that the puppet must have been seduced or hypnotised!!! The final question is whether the puppet wants control back or not.

If the puppet wants to be inside his head again, he must fight for it. Then his mind will become a battleground (like that of our dear Fludd). If not, then we must assist him or her because it seems that leaving an individual in such a state would be an act of unusual cruelty. For this we must call upon the power of God,

“the one that strides in and out of our lives with no warning. One day He seems impossible -laughable- and the next He is imperious.” The Children’s book

Yes we must call on the power of God to exorcise the demon while acknowledging that He’ll do it in his own time for reasons we couldn’t possibly fathom.

Happy Days,
Afam.
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We love the Phunk!!

15:05:00
Do you ever sit back and observe the people around you? Do you find yourself looking at the people in the group that you’re hanging with and wonder why you’re different from them all?
If so, don’t worry about it to much. You’re teetering on the edge of a downward spiral. The one that starts with distance and ends with you depressed. The process is as follows, distance, apathy, sympathy, anger, sadness, depression. However you mustn’t overestimate the power of the funk. It’s a strange phenomenon that can be expelled with something as simple as a drunken jump on the table by an incorrigible American.
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