a beautiful revolution: blog

Humdrum: Persona

The phone rang.

I ignored it.

[I am trying to develop an elusive persona]

Humdrum: Time

My hair takes 32 minutes to drip-dry [I have timed it].

I cannot say how long my hair takes to blow-dry [I do not own a hairdryer] but I suspect it would take less time.

 

Humdrum: Journey

I have slept in the back room of my house for 10 years. On Monday, I decided to move into the front room of my house.

Despite it being closer to the street - I do not regret my decision one bit.

 

My Creative Process

I decided to go to bed at 10 pm. If the ‘normal’ people can do it – then a ‘crazy in the head’ person like myself can do it too, I foolishly thought, wandering up the stairs.

I spend the next 3 hours dreaming about my bearded Granny and her evil friends waving Samurai swords in my face, shouting ‘So what’s your name, Motherfucker?’

‘Andre’ I shout back ‘My name is Andre’

They don’t believe me. And just as it gets to the gruesome part – I wake up.

I spent the next thirty minutes, mentally rewriting the dream in my head.

It’s now 2am. I am wide-awake, and find myself sitting at my computer, with a big bowl of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes writing this all down in chronological order. I am clearly quite mad. But it has to be done.

I’ve just remembered that someone recently said that one in four people suffer from a mental health issue. I am clearly a member of that one in four crazy party  – I mean – it’s almost 3 am and I’m writing about my bearded Granny?  Oh, I must do a one in four drawing – be back in a mo.

Okay, so I’ve completed my 1 in 4 drawing [am not very impressed – but at least it’s out of my system].

In the normal world it might be true that one in four of us are mental deranged - but in the world of the interweb, I can’t help but wonder if it might be a little closer to one in two. Why is that?

Ghastly tabloids like the News of the World would have you believe that anyone visiting the interweb in the middle of the night is either reading 'how to make a bomb from horse manure and two bits of string' websites or is about to jump of a multi-storey car park in the middle of the night because they’ve completely had enough of their sad-fuck life. Bollocks. Most of the interweb people that I’ve met are incredibly creative Guardian Newspaper types … Bingo – maybe that’s it – maybe crazy in the head people aren’t really crazy in the head – maybe they’re just really, really creative?  Think about it. Boring, grey, middle of the road humdrums worry about being late for work – not being able to fix their washing machines – They get upset, cry even, when someone they once trusted explains to them that the people on Coronation street and Eastenders aren’t real – they are actors. Whereas, incredibly creative people worry about the really scary things like - the evil child catcher that lives in their attic, or their disbelieving bearded Granny and her swash buckling friends.

I wonder if a clever psychotherapist has written such a thesis?  I must google search at once – be back in a mo. 

Can’t find anything.

Maybe I’ve just discovered it? Maybe I’m the Stephen Hawking's of Manic Depression.

I am ace.

‘Hello, my name is Andre and I’m not a crazy in the head person, oh no, I’m just a very sensitive soul with an incredibly creative mind’

Oh, and I’ve just thought of a new drawing – be back in a mo.

Okay so I’ve done another drawing - I quite like this one [might put it at the bottom of the post – not sure - anyway I’m not finished yet – oh no – my mind is whizzing – have now got the urge to go into town and buy the lovely, lovely red jacket I saw – but it’s only 3.30am so I’m a bit fucked … bugger … will have to write a post about it … get it out of my system]

I have seen a rather nice red army style coat/jacket. I want to buy it. It is very hip and trendy and it shouts ‘very arty person approaching’. I want it. It has clearly been made for people like me. Unfortunately, it is sitting in a teenybopper shop called TOPMAN. I am very cross. I am 38. People my aged aren’t allowed to enter teenybopper shops called TOPMAN. It’s the law. The young people will get frightened.

I am very tempted to lie down in the middle of my high street and die.

I hate being 38.

Tomorrow [today] – I shall visit the charity shops in search of red army style coats/jackets.

This is allowed.

Maybe I should just hang about outside the teenybopper shop and wait for a trustworthy young person that is willing to buy the red army style coat/jacket for me?