Thoughts and scribblings of an overactive mind.



I feel old. 23? Switch the numbers round and double it – I’m 64!

I feel old. Holla’ if you find yourself nodding at any of the evidence below:

1) I get tired now at like 10 o’clock. What’s up with that? I used to stay up until 2, 3 in the morning watching dvds and making snacks!
2) I’m finding more and more that the most dreary things get me excited. Three for £5 on meat at Sainsburys = excitement. Using Butter Beans for the first time in cooking = excitement. A new scent of fabric softener = excitement. Buying cookware = orgasm.
3) I moan! I moan so much. I end up finding myself having old person conversations – like discussing how horribly expensive bread has become, or complaining about cyclists on the road, or moaning how every year the weather is bad in the winter and every year we seem to be unprepared for the snow, and how that particular road is really bad and the council really should do something about it………..
4) I look at young people with a mix of utter jealousy and also an intense hate. !7/18 year olds – the bane of my life! They’re all young and trendy with cool hair, having house parties and getting pissed off one bacardi breezer – but they’re so naive! So youthful And that youthfulness annoys me. I’m both envious of it and disgusted by it. Grrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!
5) Bedsheets. Bedsheets. Another love/hate. I LOVE them because they’re just so exciting aren’t they – Egyptian Cotton, it sounds so exotic! And you make it all match, like some bizarre form of lego. But then, ergh, what a bitch to iron. And they need ironing, they do really because it just doesn’t look right if it’s all crumpley.
6) I think I’m becoming my mother. I’ve found myself getting really funny about coasters. Everything needs a coaster. Things MUST have a coaster. And what’s that I see there hmmm? A crumb? A piece of dust?!?!?
7) And most of all it’s just that little voice that whispers to me every single morning when I look in the mirror. A little bit less vibrant looking, a little more tired looking. That tiny little voice that goes “You’re getting old.”


I have this terrible fear that I’m going to die soon. Everytime I think about something that might happen – something positive in the future, I instinctively think “oh gosh, what if I die before then?” People say to me “this will happen next year,” or “be patient, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t happen this year.” But then I always think “of course it matters, of course it does. I could die. I could so easily die. Then it won’t have happened.”

I mean what a ridiculous thing to be worried about. But I’m just painfully aware that there are things outside of my control, and that the world can just suddenly throw something at you and then poof you’re gone. You become an obitury, a headstone, a handful dust and a bunch of could have beens. It’s a chilling thought. Frankly I don’t know how it isn’t driving everyone bananas, it’s certainly making me go a bit mad. I KNOW it’s crazy, I know it is. I imagine it’s just because there’s so much I’m eager to do in my life, so much I’m eager to achieve – but that it will all take some time, and so I’m panicking that because I’m so desperate for it I’ll probably die in the mean time and then I’ll never achieve it. Sigh. Well I won’t with that attitude I guess. That’s what mum would say.

SIGH again. Big sigh. Weird mind these past few days. I’ve had a lot I want to do but I feel like I haven’t made any progress. This frustrates me. I need to do more. If I do more, I’ll feel like I’m achieving more, then I’ll feel better about myself.  Yeah. I’ll do that.

It’s seriously getting so loud in my head, I can’t hear myself anymore. All I hear is this voice or that voice going “you should do this” or “you should do that.” But what about my voice? Where’s my judgement in all this? Am I a fool? Am I someone who is easily tricked? On the small things, yes. If I ask if I can borrow a hole-punch and the person says “no” in a deadpan tone then I’m likely to believe them. But on the big things, on whether I’m being conned or deceived in some way – nah, I don’t get fooled by that. I can smell manipulation a mile off, but that’s mostly because I’m a grade A master at it myself. Always have been.

But yet despite being so sure of myself, I’m still finding it difficult to know my own mind at the moment.

FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!!! I HATE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


owhckqhekcjbhqaskbxcKJABX sbjsbjhlAXVHax SAO;IHA SOH;asj kAJKB;SB.akxLOaihsc;oaHS ;asSA jsaklojklHSA LK \JNZKJHBSJKhgkjhsgwyhsgxjl\AHBXsnbcxkuylhASMVCLVhsvclajkhvclkbjmnjvsl

That, right there. That is the mathematical formula for frustration.

Back up to speed

I’ve been slowing down of late, I won’t lie to you. January, a post every day pretty much. February, four so far? Five? Rubbish! A slip back into old Matthew perhaps. Well pish I say to you, with all the emphatic-ness of a victorian gentleman with mutton chops and a top hat. No more!

Suite101 has been a curse and a blessing. A blessing because it does offer me the opportunity to flex my academic writing arm, and that does feel good. But a curse because it does lure one in with its opportunity to earn money, and I think I did get a little bit obsessed. Also, as I’ve discovered, Suite is the natural habitat of many busy body type editors whose life revolves around trampling on your creativity with reckless abandon. I’m not for one second putting down the role of an editor, a good editor is vital to a good writer. But does it have do be done in such a school ma’am kind of way? Hopefully not? And don’t tell me what to actually write in my article please, suggest corrections to what I’ve actually written, but don’t tell me what to write. I could maybe even handle suggestions – good, honest notes can be good sometimes – but to actually tell me is quite rude I think.

So, over the last week I think my frustration had reached a peak, and now it’s time to blow the cap and get back to doing what I want (and what I need,) to do. Which is namely writing on here and developing my novels. I’ve made a tentative start to Book Three, so that will be something to get my teeth into. However, I am anxious to start the publication process too, so as well as the one submission I have already made I will make more. I don’t want to make too many, don’t want to look like I’m just canvassing the market, but doing a few at a time might be a good idea considering that these things can take 12 weeks to come back to you. I really, really do have faith that I will either be on the road to publication (or at least have an agent,) by the end of the year. That’s the goal – now let’s aim at it. Full steam ahead! Top speed!


PHEW. I spent most of the day at it (writing my suite101 articles that is,) and I have now written a total of nine articles, with the tenth being done tonight, just because I like ten. Double figures, very good – and one fifth of the way to my revenue bonus! If I keep going at it then hopefully I will have my 50 by the end of next week. There was one article I wrote today that I thought would have been quite good for on here, it was about writing a novel – so I shall link it right now!—believe-in-you-a342839

Also, watched Louis Theroux ultra zionists last night. I have to profess, I didn’t really understand the whole Israel issue before I watched. What a lot of drama though! I mean if I understand it correctly then the whole thing is just silly. As far as I can see they both have a claim to the land – why can’t they just share? They’re already living there – so what if there’s a jew in your street? Who cares about some arabs who have moved in next door? Just button up and get on with it. If they all just agreed that they both called the land home then they could both live in peace. They should both share in their joint love of the land, not argue over it. Just a lot of men who have got far too hot and bothered in the heat from where I’m standing.