A combination of too many 16-hour days, too many good books to read, and shit internet at home, has prevailed against my blog of late. Tomorrow one of my students will drive me up to Kassel to see Juniper. Alas i won’t have a real holiday as McLingua in Kassel want me to teach an Arbeitsamt class there from 27th to 30th December, but since Juniper will have to work i may as well too. We will suffer together. i will also make my class suffer.
i feel uninterested in writing anything. i do occasional, shit reviews for the Dabbler but only to get free books. The last few days i’ve been thinking about my novel and its great flaws; one day it will take perfect form but at the moment i don’t care what happens to it. i feel sick of vile public utterance. Perhaps it is to do with my job, where a great deal of my energy goes into suppressing my personality, trying NOT to speak. The necessity of a kind of secrecy – combined with apparent social engagement – is depressing and seems to generally inhibit my desire to publicly communicate. The idea of public communication is strange and highly suspect; i can understand talking or writing to one other human being; i can just about understand communicating to a group of friends & cronies & assistant murderers, but to write something so ANYONE can read it – why would anyone want to do that? Even with comments disabled i find myself wondering why i do this. It seems highly perverted.
It should be against the law.