Nottingham, United Kingdom
What? I'm not even interested in me, why would you be? What to write...maybe I can think of something...um.
I'm young, aspiring, on the edge and twitching, hoping, grasping with both outstretched palms that I can make something out of myself I am proud of. In the past, bad decision after bad decision, I've always had a niggle in the back reaches of my mind. I've always been a sad little dreamer, with little connection to the grounded, political, and entirely unfulfilling real world.
My interest in writing springs from my desire to be heard, listened to, and known; and, maybe, because this may be the only thing that can hold my attention for more than a month, or a year; the only thing I can see that will give as much as it takes in me personally.
I'm really not as melodramatic as all this, as with life today in cities and streets all is spin and shadows. A web is what I want, and it is this I intend to knit.
I doubt that I have anything to say that anyone might want to read; but I have so much I could say, want to give. Although I don't have the same excess of feelings as Plath, the agony of Larkin's later years, or the imagination of Blake, I think I could, maybe, write something for someone, somewhere. Thanks.
Interests: Everything, all things, and at the same time nothing. The abstract, odd coincidences, the human lie, pain, and alienation. The night sky, our potential, the Beckettian cycle, death. A sprinkling of alcohol, a splash of modern culture, and freedom for al
Published writer: No