Objectively optional opinions.

An investigation into the meeting of minds, my minds.

Month: June, 2013

The Lost Art

Bring it back,

that light hearted greeting on a dark morning. 

We need it back,

that unnecessary smile in the midst of a crowd.

 Where did they go?

The words now held back from a future friend, lover or enemy.

 How will we know?

When silence dominates every bus and train,

every park bench and post office queue.

 The art is lost,

and the fear grips all. The conversationalist is made redundant.

 We avert our eyes,

and forget that we have forgotten:

 

The art of conversation.

 Peace.

 

Ps. I know the syntax is rubbish, but I thought why the hell shouldn’t I try and write a poem.

Today

I sat on a bench today with an old man.

 

He mentioned the weather being fine and I agreed that it was. He asked me whether I was from here and asked what I was doing, I told him I am and that I was waiting. He said we’re all waiting for something, I asked him what he was waiting for and he replied “well I’m waiting for death” with a chuckle. He asked me what I was waiting for, I said i was waiting for life, he nodded and went on his way.

 

 

The first blog post of many I would attempt.

So today I begin my life as devoted blogger, sycophant and tedious bore no doubt. I’m very disappointed in myself. You see I have admired from afar the efforts and achievements of a hundred different bloggers, blogs and what not, like a silent voyeur in the sways of an internet induced slideshow(coma). 


Every other day I believed it to be the time to take up my ergonomic keyboard and battle the apathy that has bogged me down, and everyday I found myself staring at a stream of beautiful but meaningless tumblr posts and thinking ‘What do we say to blogging? Not today'(Whilst evidently watching Game of Thrones). But today I said today! Finally I have found my feet(fingers) and started walking(typing) the path of the righteous(screen-obsessed). 


It is a difficult thing to find a niche on which to focus ones efforts of the cogitations, there is no end to picture related blogs, again with the slideshow antics, no end to the alt-LIT scoundrels who experiment in their apple mac cauldrons with a thousand different fonts below a starry sky or situated upon some empty rail-way; “Your love might hurt but my scarred heart will always pull through xoxox </3” – Now I am all for sentimentality, capturing the emotions of the world whilst backed by a faded snapshot of Brighton pier (or replace with Margaret Thatcher) but that will not stop me wishing an end upon this earnest clawing for nostalgic praise. Anyway you’ll be happy in the knowledge that I’ll update my manifesto at some point in the near or distant future.


However I am not a nihilist, which might be obvious through my obvious seeking of approval from the cyber-space community; I may decline from defining what I would wish to make the object of my blogging antics for now. Maybe I’ll go into crockery, maybe not. Maybe I’ll delve into the centre parcs scene-I’ve heard there’s openings-but then again maybe not.


But for now I am satisfied that I’ve made it to the end of my first.


Peace out,


Richard