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reSenTinG YoUR DArLiNGS

haters gonna hate – even the shit i be proud of, yeah?

Month

July 2013

expressway to yr skull – sonic youth

I feel slightly out-of-condition. Somewhere I’ve lost the ability – and focus – to write every day. Still, now I’ve identified the problem, hopefully I can rip its lungs out.
The plan: I’m still keeping my (near) daily journal, still trying to write in here as often as I can. And when there’s time, I’m getting torn into ‘coal face’.
My journal is essentially an x-ray snapshot of my skull each morning. What I’m thinking about, how I feel about it, anything interesting that’s happened in the last twenty-four.
‘Coal face’ seems to be getting plenty of likes and follows. Which is kind of ironic, being as it’s an attempt to write something that out-grosses everything else I’ve done. The self-mutilation in ‘erotic cleansing’, even the cascades of shit, piss and miscellaneous in ‘1919’. The ‘great white death’ of contemporary scottish literature!

http://dreichcoalface.wordpress.com/

Why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

A love story – on home-made acid – narrated by someone first used romatically, then set on fire, by the blue peter team, capering around the pyre like wrinkled vikings.

heat – soft cell

This heat’s killing me. I’m just not designed for it. I’m permanently floored, like a hangover with neither beginning nor end. Each day, I exceed my brain’s maximum operating temperature and each night, I’m wiped out. I have no energy, all I want to do is blob out.
If I wasn’t working just now, I wouldn’t even open my curtains. And I certainly wouldn’t be going over the door before the sun dropped.
A year ago, I was working full-time AND writing a novel. Now, it’s all I can do to work and sleep. Where the fuck has all my energy gone?
Last weekend, I visited a couple of friends who live a few miles away. First time I’ve seen them this year (they hadn’t even seen my hearing aids).
Like scottish people the world over, we discussed the weather in its entirety. (A) There’s too much of it, (B) it shouldn’t be this hot this time of year and (C) it wasn’t like this last year/when I was a kid.
By the next morning, we were in full agreement. This fucking weather’s all wrong and should be somewhere else and what’s bloody nigel fromage going to do about it, eh?

http://dreichcoalface.wordpress.com/

Why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

A love story – on home-made acid – narrated by someone first used romatically, then set on fire, by the blue peter team, capering around the pyre like wrinkled vikings.

cop – swans

This is one of the greatest sixteen rpm, bludgeoning ab-metal albums ever made. A lugubrious cry for help against a stupid, unintelligible universe.
The sound itself is deep, leaden, like being eaten alive by sabre-tooth cancer. The vocals blend rage and despair, tiny melodic highlights sparkle like scattered teeth after a discussion on religious freedom.
Lyrically, it’s dense, battering, crushing. Like a lecture from someone who smashes you in the gut to emphasise EACH and EVERY important point.
This album will be thirty years old next year. Thirty-five minutes in hell (with a further twenty minutes of the ‘raping a slave’ EP tacked onto the end).
Every home should have one.

http://dreichcoalface.wordpress.com/

Why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

A love story – on home-made acid – narrated by someone first used romatically, then set on fire, by the blue peter team, capering around the pyre like wrinkled vikings.

where’s your head at – basement jaxx

I was permitted to keep a daily journal during my week of servitude. I got up two-to-three hours before my superior and used this time to lay out my thoughts on paper, a snapshot of where my head was at – at that exact right moment.
She’s not read it yet. That’s pencilled in for this weekend, giving us the opportunity to have a post-mortem, look at the issues that came up for me during that week.
I didn’t experience a lot of negativity, I have to say. The majority of the time, I was focused completely on her needs, wants and desires, trying to anticipate what she wanted before she told me.
For me, the ‘great leap forward’ was in yoking my ego to someone else’s requirements, taking pleasure from her pleasure. And that’s quite an out-of-body experience in itself!

http://dreichcoalface.wordpress.com/

Why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

A love story – on home-made acid – narrated by someone first used romatically, then set on fire, by the blue peter team, capering around the pyre like wrinkled vikings.

the prisoner – the clash

Now that the dust has settled, it’s probably time to describe my research project in full. I put myself in the hands of A Trusted Other and lived for a week as her 24/7 slave. I was blindfolded and driven to an undisclosed location in southern scotland, where there was no phone coverage, no internet and no television. I was, effectively, cut off from the world and the twenty-first century, with no idea where I was – or how to get back.
Of course, outside of popular fiction, someone in my situation isn’t merely kept naked and caged, used for their owner’s sexual requirements. No, in the real world, I was obliged to wash her car, dye her hair, put on her make-up – as well as all the cooking and cleaning.
Mind you, there was bondage. We used the week to test-drive a set of wrist ‘n’ ankle cuffs I’d picked up from floggermeister. Made from repurposed fire hose, they were strong enough to prevent me escaping at those points where the chastisements started to exceed where I thought my limits were.
It’s not all chains ‘n’ canes, though. It’s more about the both of us ceasing to see myself as an individual. And redefining me as a piece of property.
I’ve spent seven days without any human rights whatsoever and it was great!

Read it, weep, whatever… http://dreichcoalface.wordpress.com/

now, why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

It’ll be our secret – mum and dad need never know!

throne of agony – scraping foetus off the wheel

I started reading ‘ A game of thrones’ whilst I was off work and, although I don’t care for fantasy novels generally, I’m utterly addicted.
Yes, it’s macho. Yes, it glamourises wife-beating and the exploitation of women – and there isn’t a character who doesn’t despise the disabled, but the characterisation’s so good, I’m champing at the bit to see what happens to every single one of them next. The plotting’s taut – so taut, in fact, that reading it, one focuses on the colourful language and naming conventions, while the storyline leaps and gouges its way forward.
I’ve heard China Mieville’s work described as ‘the wizard of Oz’ as written by Irvine Welsh, well this is ‘Lord of the rings’ as imagined by Charles Bukowski.
It’s funny. Just when mainstream cinema’s losing sight of storyline in favour of excessive special effects, plotting in literature seems to be having a renaissance.

http://dreichcoalface.wordpress.com/

now, why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

It’ll be our secret – mum and dad need never know!

puppet life – punishment of luxury

I’m at that stage now with coalface where I feel like the puppet master – my wee creations are flitting about, doing my bidding (for the most part!) and the plot is progressing reasonably smoothly. Ok, this never lasts, but for now, I’m enjoying the experience of watching the in-skull movie unfold.
This weather’s killing me. My DNA’s pretty much Welsh/Scots, so I’m just not genetically wired for there being a yellow ball hanging in the sky, burning flesh and making under clothes hot ‘n’ moist.
And, while we’re on the subject, why’s the sky itself that fucking colour? What’s wrong with grey, the way the sky gods intended?
It’s even affected the musics I’m listening to – moby, gorrilaz, echo and the bunnymen… This canny be right!
Back to work today after two weeks free of the damn place. I wonder what’s changed in my absence?

now, why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

It’ll be our secret – mum and dad need never know!

lost again – yello

The experiment is over. I’m back home as of this afternoon. I’m exhausted, sore all over and toasted by the sun, but delighted to have had the opportunity to be dragged out of my comfort zone.
And, most importantly, being separated from phone coverage, the internet and television for a week, I was able to press on (in the odd quiet moment) with coalface, which I trust everyone’s enjoying, yes?
I’m not going to witter on endlessly – I’m cream-crackered, so I’ll try again after a good night’s sleep.

now, why not read the novel that started it all? 1919 (inside)

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bunnied

It’ll be our secret – mum and dad need never know!

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