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Friday, August 18, 2006
2006-08-18 NozUpdate - I Know You Hate Me - London, England
Mood:  don't ask
Topic: Noz Update

2006-08-18

I can hear you out there.

Before I go to sleep, I can hear the voices.  From all around the globe they whir and fizzle through the air like tiny terrorist rockets converging on me.

Whispers...

"Noz is SUCH a dick." 

"...Never returns my emails"

"He doesn't even blog anymore..."

And you're right.  And I am.

I'm afraid that there's this horrible backlog of crap inside me right now that doesn't let anything out.  My family and work life are in such a state that I'm basically an emotional cripple these days.   Before, I'd escape into blogging, writting, music, dancing, etc....  That's just not working for me lately, and I'm trying to figure out what and how to go on.

I'm still here.  I wanted you to know that.  I wanted you to know that you, my loved ones from all over, with your little intercontinental ballastics, help keep me going.  You help me, and Lo, who bears the burden of me, to go on. 

It's the knowledge that all my tsunamis of guilt and sub-strata agonising are an epic work of nihilist fiction.  You remind me that I am capable of an infinite amount of silliness, and that the average level of cool, kind, great, decent, and invigoratingness in the people who read my blogs is such that I by proxy am still pretty a-ok. Lo reads my blogs too and she's pretty wicked.

Lo however, poor thing, has to live with me.  And has to live here in this place where she is like a fish thrown in the dusty ground of the scortching Sahara. The rest of you lot can selectively remember the good, and forget the bad.  Lucky people.  

Think a fond thought for us both and please continue to be as great as you always all were.


Posted by Noz at 10:27 AM BST
Updated: Friday, September 21, 2007 12:19 PM BST
Post Comment | View Comments (3) | Permalink

Friday, August 18, 2006 - 11:54 AM BST

Name: "Lo"

Thank you. We are all with you and this hard period will get better soon babe. xx 

Friday, August 18, 2006 - 12:06 PM BST

Name: "Natasha"

Hang in there!!! And sing Tony Blair's favourite song.....

You can walk my path
You can wear my shoes
Let her talk like me
And be an angel too

But maybe
You ain't never gonna feel this way
You ain't never gonna know me
But I know you...
Teach you now that

Things can only get better
Can only get, can only get
They get on from here
You know, I know that
Things can only get better

I sometimes lose myself in me
I lose track of time
And I can't see the world's formed trees
You set them alight, burning the bridges as you go
I'm too weak to fight you
I got my personal health to deal with
And you say

Walk my path
Wear my shoes
Talk like me
I'll be an angel and

(CHORUS:)
Things can only get better
Can only get better
Now I've found you
(That means me)
(Will you teach me now)
Things can only get better
Can only get better
Now I've found you

And you and you...
You... show me prejudice and greed
You show me how
I must learn to deal with this disease
I look at things now
In a different light than I did before
I found the cause
And I think that you could be my cure
And you say

Walk your path
Wear your shoes
Talk like that
I'll be an angel too

(chorus)

Things can only get, can only get
Things can only get, can only get
Things can only get, can only get
Things can only get, can only get

(chorus)

Tuesday, August 22, 2006 - 9:29 PM BST

Name: "Ben (from Corel days)"

Alright, so I have been watching your e-mails cross my inbox every once in a while, each with some sort of self-flaggelation theme, but this one took the biscuit so I thought I'd read up on your life and state of mind by perusing the Bloz.

Man, what a rollercoaster ride. Is anything ever normal and steady in your life? You hop from place to place, relationships look like they depict a particularly capricious mountain range, health issues, kicking at life and its various manifestations, hate-work-hate, etc.

I couldn't take all of the blog in; too much significant stuff to digest there, you know. BTW, sorry to read about your dad, that's particularly nasty; hope things will work out for the both of you.

Anyhoo, Noz man, I believe it's time you did something. Ah... let me qualify that and put some disclaimers in first lest I be misconstrued.

I don't know you from Adam anymore of course after all this time and what follows is completely unwarranted, probably complete bullshit and most likely unwelcome so feel free to skip to the salutation at the end.

So, let's begin, unusually, with a a summary: 

  • You hate your working environment but love your colleagues (don't know if you like the work itself).
  • Usually (insofar I can determine) you're in a world of hurt,  much of it probably self-imposed by that weird brain of yours, a lot of it only hurting because you actually care about things/people.
  • You like to write and make music but you don't feel you do enough of either. You attempt poetry on occasion.
  • I enjoyed reading your blog (well, right up until I experienced emotional overload that is), and I rarely enjoy reading blogs because moist of them are crap
  • There are at least one or two people around you who care about you, so you're obviously not a loser nor an asshole.

Now, let's boil it down to essentials.

1. You hurt. A lot. And often.

2. You have creative urges.

3. You work (but not gladly). 

There's only one possible conclusion: you must be an artist!

Reasoning:

  • All really good art was created by artists who were suffering (from poverty, illness, a broken heart, you name it);
  • very few artists liked their jobs (when they had them);
  • most great artists felt misunderstood and/or unloved; 
  • likewise, most of them couldn't help but create, even when things were dire.

So, here you are, artist, hurting as all good artists do, wanting to create but living in a society where you have to pay bills, tax, for food and for a roof over your head.

So, from my point of view, you're not doing the right thing for Noz. He deserves better.

What is the right thing? Well, insofar my opinion counts for anything, here goes:

Keep the day job (to pay the bills) but treat it for what it is: a way to pay the bills; it's not something you do to make you happy or fulfill your destiny or whatnot. Stop caring about it: if you don't care about it, it can't get you down.

Put most of your energy into creating stuff: I thoroughly enjoy your writing: the style, the quirkiness, your similes, metaphores and flowery imagery, the way your emotions come through and your choice of topics. Good writing , especially in blogs, is a rare thing (loved the rant about the imperfect Hollywood women article in Heat).

I've sought a second opinion from someone whose opinion about writing I respect, just in case I was mistaken but she agrees: your writing is actually very, very good (don't know about your poetry but then I could never really get the hang of poetry so that's probably just me).

I also heard some of your music, which I can tell is original enough to show promise, even though it's not quite my style.

So, you should channel your creative urges into something you may be able to sell one day. You like writing, so write a novel, or create a collection of your musings/postings/e-mails to date and see if you can make some kind of interesting whole out of them. Then, get one of the print-to-order publishers (there are several on the Net) to list it.

Or create some music and get it hosted on one of the many Indy sites. 

God (mine, not yours) knows what you might accomplish if you focus on your creative side. One thing I know for sure: you're better at being creative than at being a wage-slave so act accordingly: day job for the bills, sacrificy evenings/weekends for creation for the long-term.

Anyway, just thought I'd give you my two bits (couldn't help myself, really). I don't know if my two bits actually amount to anything but they're yours to ignore, ridicule or take from what you will.

Hope you fare well and looking forward to what you may (or may not) produce.

Ben.

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