Writer’s Lack of Effort (and some crap about music)

I’m meant to write things today and so far I have done everything but write. Even this blog is happening two hours after I intended to write it because I really have been avoiding writing. I’ve only managed to convince myself to blog now by saying that this here is typing, not writing, and as I just splurge this blog out from my brain, no actual effort or thinking is involved. Its only now, since I’ve started that I’ve realised I’ve Derren Browned myself and am now already several sentences into what will be a slog for a few minutes. Damn my brain and ability to self-deceive. Not sure why I have writer’s block today, although its not so much writer’s block as writer’s resistance to do anything due to lack of effort or energy, but that doesn’t sound anyway as catchy. To be fair, were the term ‘Writer’s Block’ non-existant I would not have been able to come up with anything as snappy to describe said syndrome and instead would have had to write horrible lengthy sentences to try and convey the difficulty I am having with words. I’ve been thinking of ways I could write instead, like just pointing at random words in a dictionary and then slapping them on a word doc, but I don’t think Drapes Penguin Vanity Poppycock really creates any kind of interesting narrative. Although saying that I have already started to think about a story concerning a curtain making penguin who is far too self obsessed and suffers from very mild tourettes. Like I said that method doesn’t create any kind of interesting narrative.

So far today, instead of write, I’ve tidied up, washed the dishes, had a shave, looked for a book I knew I’d leant to someone just so looking for it would take a while, actually spent time stroking my cats, and now I’m actually contemplating re-arranging my overly large CD collection. It is overly large and its also the reason why my escalating level of poverty has hit such devastating heights. I’m barely unable to afford my bills this month because when I was student I decided to delve into the world of overdraft and credit cards in order to fuel my constantly growing music interest. Now, many years later, I might not be able to eat properly till October and my credit rating is only one star, but I’ve got bloody loads of CDs. I’m not sure if credit ratings happen in stars. I’d like it if they did, possibly with a critical review per person:

Credit rating ** – Whilst making the occasional wise purchase, his bank statement is littered with bar tabs and porn mags and frankly shows a waste of what could’ve been some rather wise investments. Still some bills have been paid on time and this shows possible promise for something greater next year.

So to punish my CDs for thoroughly destroying my bank (along with booze, clothes, going out in general, Edinburgh festival and large amounts of cake) I thought maybe I should rearrange them a bit. I’m not really sure how this is punishment. If anything its more a punishment to me as my CD player no longer plays CDs and the CD drive on my mac refuses to read CDs. Its as though they are all in sync with forcing me into the future. Will I will download the occasional mp3 I will never completely submit to their electronic ways. I like the physical CD booklet and case. Yes I know iTunes are starting to do electronic booklets and album covers with album purchases, but you can’t get an artist to sign an e-booklet. Unless that artist is on second life, or one of the Gorillaz. Amongst the CDs are some personal favourites including the Jazzanova album In Between due to its funky spiral case, the DJ Shadow CD Diminishing Returns, with coasters and stickers all contained in an old school plastic bag type pack, and my No Doubt ‘Tragic Kingdom’ CD which is signed by Gwen Stefani herself. Yes I know she’s a massive dick bag nowadays but if you were a teenager in the 90’s try admitting to yourself you didn’t love ‘Don’t Speak’. Go on, try. Its impossible.

See what I’ve started typing about to avoid typing about things I need to be typing about? Its bloody impossible I tell you. Why can’t writing be as easy as this typing malarky. Bah.