Had a sudden urge to write after listening to Radioheads 'Street Spirit' on repeat for 20 minutes. Really wanted to write a short story or even my last piece for the Vogue competition, but distraction formed itself in webpictures of strangers living incredible lives on Twitter. (My Internet was down for two days, so its all incredibly novel again...)
Find myself quite fascinated by strangers actually. Compelled to write about them in some sort of snapshot prose...possible short story brewing. We all seem to promote a snapshot version of our real selves, especially on the Internet or in first meetings- displaying fast and furious facts. Me like fashion. Me like writing....indie music, guys with beards, beaches and arty films. We present our blurb to strangers hoping to entice them, encourage them to take a closer look to learn more. To learn we are a Pieces. We used to be anorexic. We hate our brother. We are scared of being hurt.
We all have a story to tell and it seems now with social networks booming that more than ever we need readers. Condensing our lives to short stories and then micro fiction so the easily bored eyes of the public don't wander. Must remember the people that truly count are the people that sit down and read the full length novel.
And demand a sequel.
P.S Throughout this snapshot pondering I decided on a trend to 'comment' on for Vogue comp! LOVEWORN. Clothes that are creased, crumpled and feel all soft and worn in. Because I love looking pretty in scruffy clothes :)