You know those times when you absoutely hate your life? You know, when it’s going nowhere and neither are you? You feel like life has kicked you right in the guts and seriously winded you. You can’t work. You can’t even construct a sentence, never mind take pictures of your sister’s rotting period blood in order to post the gruesome evidence on the net. At Easy Realism, we certainly do, and that’s partly why our offices were veritably shut down for a good four months.
I don’t have anything really juicy or salacious to write at all. In fact, this blog post was prompted lastnight when I read over a year’s worth of diary entries. I forgot just how much I have done in the past year – not just graduating, but actually writing the dissertation. That feels like so long ago now – and I’ll be damned if I can remember anything I wrote about.
Anyway, I had a day off work today – for a change – and spent it reading a few books on the couch. I bought about six months’ worth of reading material from the Borders closing down sale. (Which, incidently, is too painful to talk about)
One of these is Clare Carlisle’s “Kierkegaard: A Guide for the Perplexed”, in which I found the following passage:
As anyone who keeps a diary knows, a journal is a patchy and often disproportionately gloomy representation of life: when one feels happy, or is simply too busy, pages are left blank, whereas suffering and conflict may be described at great length.
In all honesty, I thought I was alone in keeping a seriously depressing read under my bed. Keeping a diary is obviously different to keeping a blog which is, in the case of Easy Realism, disproportionately attention-seeking.
As a sidenote, I had this weird fantasy earlier – on the couch – of writing a PhD comparing Kierkegaard and his pseudonyms to David Bowie: Johannes Climacus and Anti-Climacus as Aladdin Sane and Ziggy Stardust; Victor Eremita closing his hotel blinds as he waits for the gift of Sound and Vision, etc.
Anyway, I kicked life back, right in the nuts. I have started my visa application for Canada and… that’s pretty much the entire plan. Now, we shall end on a song. Everyone! “Oh, Canada, your streets are paved with gold! Our patriot games, are played in the snow…”