It’s the dead doldrums of an indifferent comfort zone. You can’t say it’s bad ‘cos everything is superficially okay. You get up, you go to work – thank f*** you’ve got a job because loads of people haven’t. You earn enough money to worry about family holidays when there are so many poor bastards who worry about living to the end of the month. You get up, you work, you come home. your boss is an ass, your family are an accessory and you, -well, you exist in this comfort zone. Few worries, rolling along. You’re like the olf folks in their institution, you just shat yourself and it’s easier, warmer and nicer and easier sitting round in your shit than having to go through the hassle of cleaning up and changing. So call this being happy in the shit you have made, because it is too difficult to to change it, and … your shit??? Well everyone kind gets used to the smell and just puts up with it to the point that they never say anything any more – you are in the dead doldrums of the failing relationship dead comfort zone, where no one has the energy or the inclination to change anything because it is so easy to stay the same – So, here we are.
Now, there was a time that I was vital,and creative and aware. I had a conscience, I had a political view, I had a world view and I wanted to change the world – and it was not so long ago – but now like those oldies, I’ve done my sh** and I’m sitting round in my sh** feeling quite warm and happy, and I am busy telling the younger generation just “how hard it is,” and how “things will never be the same again.”. I have (despite my efforts)) , turnedd into the person that I never wanted to be.
I have a few new writing ideas and I am trying to work on myself to be a better person, to be more vital and aware and receptive. I have a lot of work to do.
You should never stop writing. Any line, any idea, any word, any spark, no matter how futile, will always develop into an idea.
Never stop thinking, never stop talking or joking or reacting. Be PC or non-PC; just think and react and write.
I kind of feel the prisoner of the reactions around me, and this is perhaps why I am happy just squidging around in the sh** of my own making (but I have also made my own sh** to suit other peoples’ sh**)
I don’t know. Kind of want to break out. Want to go mad. Want to trash everything and still want to be happy in my hard won comfort zone – because if you get to that point that you don’t have to worry too much, you have worked for it, BUT, you have sacrificed a part of your creative soul along the way.