I don't like editing. I feel as though I'm lying. My 'vision' isn't perfect. I am sometimes distracted in my thoughts. Far more interesting is to sit down and write and see where you go and what comes out. I especially like the Freudians. Like in that last entry, I typed something about JM Coetzee looking at the "writings all over me" while I ( Read more... )

Occassionally I find myself staring into space and going on all sorts of thought-journeys. On one the other day I ended up in my the arts department corridor, in front of an office door marked JM Coetzee... my second visit. He looks at me from piles of paper with my markings all over me and says "Keep writing. You're doing fine." I go outside ( Read more... )

Been there, obsessed over them all: This week, it's JM Coetzee! Fuck off Pynchon, this is how writing should be ( Read more... )

When Harry came home last night I was sitting at his computer, checking out the Nobel Peace Prize, which I started telling him about. I wasn't very impressed, and neither was he, so somehow we got onto a conversation about hippies. He is very angry with hippies. When it's voting time, I always vote for the Greens, without giving a damn about how ( Read more... )

Today was pleasantly wet. The clouds were so low it seemed that they'd hunkered down to see what we were doing, pressing their faces against the glass, or perhaps there was something going on in space They didn't want us to see, or perhaps we're not ready to see... "shield your eyes, humanity, you're too young for this", and obediently we went ( Read more... )

I wrote that for my autobiography paper. Good thing something actually happened during my week. I was unsure as to whether I'd get a warm reception or not, so I arranged to meet the Professor. Saved it to disk, fly to university, disk dies on the way. I go to tell her I'm going to be running late while I go all the way back to Kingsland to... " ( Read more... )

Friday ( Read more... )

Fuck it, I can't be bothered anymore.

Somebody said "Memes" so I said ( Read more... )

This evening I read the diary of a fellow dazzler, who doesn't seem to know it, someone who communed with another with a seriously nasty of pretension - I imagine his teeth all rotten and bloody, and every time he'd talk it'd spray and stick to your glasses and would each splash would surprise you so much with it's offensiveness that by the time ( Read more... )