A faded protest sign

This is a wee experiment….bear with me.

The revolution was over.  The ruling party told us so.  Each and every day in print and on Tv.  Tv that had the ad blocker switched off.  TV that no longer allowed you to skip the adverts.

It was over and we just had to accept it and move on.

Except I couldn’t.

Oh I tried, I tried so damn hard.  To the outside world, I was the very picture of compliance.  I even started to wear brown shoes to fit in.  Every single trend and fashion, I slavishly followed.  To stand out at this time was not an option.  Every day I would see the police carting away someone who felt that individuality was more important than freedom.  Every day they tracked down more and more and in the back of my brain, even I knew that fitting in soon would not be enough.  The pretence of my current life would soon have to come to an end.

The street corners were full of the ghosts of the past.  The terraces too, full of angry people raging against a system that had been designed to keep them in their place for far too long.  Protest signs held high alongside flags, proclaiming that we were just not going to take it anymore.

It did not last long.  Our battle cry faded along with the people.  When a system wants to break their subjects, it does not bend.  Each day more people signed their lives away and went back to their low paid, demeaning jobs.  They had to eat.  They had to live.

I hated them for a while.  Back when I had another life, before it all went wrong.

I hated myself for what I had become.

Occasionally, on those days when modern life became too much to process, I would hear the chants.  Our battle cries, ringing out against the loud drumming of a million police batons on riot shields.  Rebels spray painting signs of defiance.  The guns forever.  Even now, I don’t know what that means.  None of us thought what we would do when it was over.

Forever young.

Heh, if only we could have stayed that way.

Even now, I can still hear the whispers as I travel on the underground.

The alarm wakes me from another vivid dream.

Time to go to work.


Let me whisper a story to you

Part of trying to pull together all the wee stories I have written over the years, is having to read them again.  Often I do not even remember them.  Almost as if they had been written by someone else.

Then as the words envelop me, I remember how I was feeling at that time….reality spilling out over the page.  Morphing into words that helped me cope with my life at that time.

I also notice a recurring theme in my stories.  Identity, frustration with how things are and wishing they could be different.

The following is from 2013….reading it back now, it is rough and ragged and needs to be wrangled into a better form.  Yet there is a beauty to it, to me anyway.  A perfectly frozen moment of time. The fear that if I edit it, then I am losing something from it.

I wrote a superhero comic script way back when I was in my late teens.  It is awful.  However when I read it now, it perfectly captures that time of my life.  Changing it for publishing today would surely remove the energy that echoes from the words.  That may change the whole feeling that the story has.

Maybe all writers feel this and the good ones are able to let that draft go?

Anyway, here is a blast from this blogs past.

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Hey…you fancy something to read?

I was on holiday recently.  Well I say holiday, I was off work looking after the Bat Kids.

I had plans…such grand lovely plans.

I ended up playing video games with my spare time and my plans were put back on a shelf marked “C’mon man…..just do it”.  On the plus side, I cleared a few games from my backlog (Ryse, Outlast, Rise of the Tomb Raider, D4 and Gat out of Hell).

On the down side…I did not edit my stories into a book.

Yeah….I know….believe me I do.

So back to work and full of woe wishing I could just go back to sleep for a couple of hours, I have spent my lunchtime looking at my old stories.  They are not too bad and although they need a good edit and some obvious song lyrics changed, they could form the spine of a not bad book.

So as it is Friday and I am feeling generous….here is the beginning of what will eventually be self published.

Please read and let me know what you think – good or bad.

Many Thanks

Remember I love you all

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This has been on my mind a lot

Specifically the section on writing yourself into the story.

I’ve posted this before and discussed this before. So why repeat it?

Well as we go through life, things change, you learn and you adjust.  This video always makes me feel able to handle those changes.

Plus how many other videos start like this?