Sober Thoughts

I'm lucid to you

I'm so interested in myself in what I am and want To the absolute detriment of what I am and want There's nothing and everything to what I am and want

It's why I blog not why I eat scrambled egg, hash browns, French bread, ready salted crisps, my own head

I'd like to apologise for being difficult in the meeting today. Let's put it down to my inclination for mischief and your pride of age. Let's collaborate tomorrow; align and click; peter then go home. I need to clean my teeth and fall asleep in my own arms, lain across my chest like a sky driver. As usual I'm peaceful, diminishing but far from over.

Slimy grease of squalor, Sir Diseasing of germs, Sir Festering on rot, Sir Life without class Poverties of past Away from you Filths accrue Forever, Sir Forever gone

extends hand out for a virtual handshake So nice to finally make your sort of acquaintance.

Hello. The pleasure is all mine, anonymous. Extends hand out for a prolific handshake in which you will find out, because I'm now telling you, that my hand is lukewarm.

The evidence of 2020 is walking home half an hour with the remnants of freezing storm Ciara in my face work trip to Bucharest was cancelled for fear of being quarantined there because of Coronavirus as you were

one thing about having a thing for every month opening a small blue notepad, taking a pen to jot and group the latest transactions from HSBC then again into a spreadsheet, is that I can see exactly how much I've ever spent on beverages of the alcoholic variety. £5,342.

I struggle with writing. To produce anything I'm proud of takes time because something written for the first time is littered with things I don't like. I constantly revise the vast majority of posts as I write. Depending on the tone of the post, and the incremental value I want each word to have, one paragraph can take as long as an hour to type. I love stream of consciousness writing but reading it back can be frustrating.

I will have repeated myself across sentences. One sentence will not be well enough linked to the previous one. I'm terrible with speling and missing out words. Sentences will not be in a preferable order. There could be a better word to use or a clearer turn of phrase. It's impossible to get it write first time (ha!) just because I don't know where a piece is going until it's gone there. I only know what's wrong when I've seen it.

I'm a massive perfectionist. I'm constantly going back to old posts to re-engineer a sentence or swap out a word. I do the same with the reports I produce at work, probably with some detriment to productivity. By having this sober thoughts blog, I sought to have a place where perfectionising wasn't necessary. It's not pure brain dumps around here, but it's probably as close as I'm going to get.

There's no post on that hasn't been touched up on a day after its original posting. Recently I've spent a lot of time going over every single post making sure a hair isn't out of place. There was a lot fluff. Whole paragraphs got culled unless there was a nugget of interesting phraseology or an idea that actually added something. The longer pieces barely resemble what they started out as. See in particular:

On Religion On Mental Illness On Salary On Football

After a year of blogging I think I've found my blogging voice and it's not here on sober thoughts (this is just my voice as it is down the pub albeit a bit more personal). I've moved posts from to here if they don't meet the standards I've self-imposed. I'm proud of and could potentially show it to people I know in real life.

I might rework this into something called 'On Writing' at some point that says all the same things, but in a better and clearer way.

At Home

Putting on shorts and not looking forward to embracing the cold. I'm a footballer tonight. Picking up empty beer bottles from the living room. I don't mind mess but like to tidy.

At Work

Oops, I spent the whole day sneering. Oops, I accidently said what I thought. Thanks for the pay rise, you've outdone yourself capitalism. If the private sector was spilt onto the floor, I'd lick it up until I got a stomach ache.

At the Supermarket

Almost going to a person then changing my mind and using a self checkout. It won't haunt me.

At everywhere

dreaming standing dreaming attending dreaming dreaming dreaming.


What do you do in your free time?

I have sex and I take the bins out. How about you?

I can imagine you being very...

Very what?

Very quiet

I'm not a loud person

I can imagine you just sitting there.

Yes, with a mug of green tea and the radiator on.

Don't you get bored?

Yes and it feels nice.

Thanks for coming to my presentation. For those who don't know me, I'm distant and here. If you do, expect the expected to be unsurprised. I think this session would be most beneficial if it was interactive. But it isn't, so buckle up you turgid listeners.

I put my repression in a slideshow, then presented a self to the town. It overran, but so am I with all your sneering would've thoughts. You look ugly when you hiss at me, and when you don't. Imagine if I were any better, not dishwasher proof glassware claiming not to be. If I smashed, I'd be lucid to you.