Invisable

Have you ever felt like a ghost? Like you are slowly but surely disappearing off the face of the planet? I'm beginning to wonder if I am in fact just a figment of someones imagination. Every attempt I make at communicating with the outside world seems to be going unnoticed. I've sent out countless CV's, I've had interviews where I thought I shone, but was apparently forgettable. Most responses have been- 'yeah you're nice...almost got it, but um, no, not quite.' Makes me a little mad when the shop assistants they have in store are 16 year old chavs who consider happy slapping a desirable past time. I've got a degree for Christs sake! Every time I get asked "You studied writing...why don't you get a job in that?" I want to sit them down, gently and scream at the top of my lungs- "ITS NOT THAT EASY." Then calmly leave. I can't even tell them it's a temporary state of affairs before I skip off around the world. I have to pretend that retail is my calling and I won't be happy until I've satisfied every customer. (I meant that in a non-sexual way....don't read into that.)

Even in the writing world I appear to have drifted off radar. I have submitted to six sentences and just now (literally before I started typing this) a short story to Cherry Bleeds. But I doubt I will get a response. Just as I have so far received none while asking for internships at music magazines.

I do wonder if maybe it's because....I'm not actually very good. Maybe I'm middle of the road, not exceptional, not good enough for publication. But then I read books of 'literary works' by some guy (I forget his name) that rings full of crap like "I had a girlfriend once. My legs friggin hurt. I need money. I have a headache." OK so those aren't direct quotes, but it's not far off and if he can get published then surely I can?

Perhaps I'm expecting too much too soon. I don't think I've lived enough yet to be good. I need more experience, more worldly knowledge and graceful wisdom. If I just continue to do what I'm doing and never stop, then one day someone will say "Yeah alright then- here, write a book." You think? I hope so. Because unfortunately that is my only choice. I would not be able to give up, writing isn't a hobby. It's a necessity. Like H2O and vitamin C.

God I wish I worked in I.T.

Ahh life would be good.

I want to be a sponge.

A metaphoric sponge that is, (Spongebob really gives me the creeps). Yes, I've decided I want to soak up some new information- and lots of it. I want to sit down next to a pile of books, put some music on, make myself comfortable and read until my eyes bleed.

For the past few hours I've been raping the amazon site looking for inspiration. And I've written a nice long list of what I want.

I want fiction: 'Apples' by Richard Milward, 'Invisable Monsters' by Chuck Palahniuk, 'Naive. Super' by Erlend Loe and 'Pieces: A Collection of New Voices' a book full of short stories from new writers. And so many more.

I want Philosophy (basics, for beginners that kind of thing- I don't want to melt my brain yet).

I want Psychology and all subjects relating: 'Essays in Love' by Alan de Botton.

I want photography/fashion: Vice photo book, Nylon 'Street' and 'Play'

I want travel: (anything with pictures to dream with.)

I want Illustration: 'The Picture Book: Contemporary Illustration.'

I want to learn and feel my little neurons sparking again.

More than that- this list has turned into 'stuff I want to buy.' I'm kinda using the whole thing as an insentive and motivation to earn some dollar. I want a holiday to Mallorca to see my friend living out there. I want movies: 'Into the Wild' (amazing film), 'Once' (a modern romance) oh and 'I'm Not There' (Bob Dylan film). I want albums and new favourite bands- I've done a whole seperate list for that bad boy. I want subscriptions to fashion and literary magazines. I want more tattoo's. I want new shoes and a plaid shirt. And please won't someone buy me a pony?

I digress. Lists are fantastic. I have a list of things to nurture my mind and it's terribly exciting. Yesterday I wrote (wrote? that's a lie, I typed it up...) my favourite list though- my aspiration checklist. Complete with little pictures found on photobucket. I won't bore you with the details, but it's got everything I want to do on there and is serving as a great reminder to stop lying in bed till noon and bloody do something. I just wish everything didn't rely on money- makes me sad. Even volunteering abroad, something I want to do, costs a s**t load.

Must focus on the lovely free things in life. Like hugs, and jokes, and kisses, and umm...sunny walks, and dancing, and compliments, and naps, and daisies....and the like. Yes loverley freebies- let's focus on that and forget about the neverending lists of material needs :s

I like ending with a picture, here's something free and lov-er-ly.

Aww isn't that sweet. I might just go throw up a little. Bye.

Getting the fear...

Ever seen 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas'? Seen the bit where they get 'the fear' in that circus? That scene pretty much epitomises my state of mind at the moment (minus the drugs and carousel). I spend so much time thinking about my future, where I want to go, how it's going to fall into place effortlessly as a falling feather etc. etc. And it looks great. It looks awesome and I cannot wait to get there, but you see, this is where it sets in. The panic. Gripping me like a fist around my chest. What if it doesn't happen? What if things don't turn out like the photo album in my head? What the hell do I do then?

You see- panic. Not good. But then again- shit, I'm only 22, I've got plenty of time to figure it out right? And I've got plenty of time to screw it up and start over. So why this unrelenting panic? Actually, I know why it is. It's this god damn limbo messing with my head again. I'm not working- ergo not doing anything...ergo thinking too much....ergo panicing...ergo- is that even a word or did I just make that up? Whatever, point is- I've got a few things to do this coming week...

• Chillax (I hate that word, but needs to be done)


• If no word from retarded retailers settle for an office job.


• Review CD's for the-mag (in turn adding to portfolio, in turn feel more productive!)


• Remember life will not forever reside in Camberley and in said office job.


• Life will be full of beaches, funny photographs, lovers, laughs and all that Jazz.


• Listen to Russel Joslin more. His music makes me feel as peaceful as a sedated monk.

This entry was supposed to be full of lightness wasn't it? I'll end with some. I've had some heart warmingly fun times the last couple of weeks including:

laughing till it hurt in Zoe's kitchen, drives in Fi's new jeep, drinks by the Quays, Nacho's and gossip in my front room, birthday dinners with innaproriate chatter, throwing shapes to The Kings of Leon and even kisses with a painfully pretty boy. Not bad. Not bad at all. What was all that fear crap? Chatter from a crazy girl thats what it was...

Here's a happy picture to make you smile:

Favourite words, depressing words and fantasy words.

A few things to cover in this edition of Kat's non-working limbo livleyhood. First off I want to make a list of some favourite words. I love lists (they provide some sort of order in my otherwise chaotic mess of a life) so here's one:


Fantasist
Ostentatious
Ethereal
Kudos
Encrusted
Phenomenon
Torturous
Willowy
Scribble
Intensity
Distraught
Void
Lunacy
Illicit
Lust
Deface

Wow, got a little dark towards the end there didn't it? Appologies, I just like words that evoke emotion- whatever that emotion may be!

Now what next? Ah yes, the depressing words (Slightly fictional I should add), here are some 'rambles' I wrote when supposed to be working in a lil shoe shop in Southampton. I loved working there, but we all have bad days- and when you work alone with a total of five customers a day, it's easy to go a bit nuts...


Friday 26th April 2008, words from work. A bad day.
“Today needs to be over. There’s a pain lying in my head. A beast that’s making its home. Not even the finest pharmaceuticals can help- its been here ten days. I keep forgetting what I’m doing and where to put things- I forget why I’m here. Something isn’t right here. My thoughts keep confusing themselves, getting tangled- I think they’re even enjoying it?
My body can’t decide if it’s hot or cold. Every movement goes in slow motion. People watching is making me dizzier than usual. Colours are offending me. Their accents bother me. I’m losing the will to fight or question- a smile and a nod. That’s all they want anyway. I feel stoned but I’m not. I keep shuffling papers to prove I’m ok. I’m high on Anedin extra. Perhaps it’s the added caffeine? Is it the pain making me confused- or does it hurt because I’m confused? No, don’t contemplate things- it only angers the beast. Everything inside is falling to a darker shade of grey while my demeanour turns overtly sunny.
To do lists are piled up alongside empty pill packets- a visual representation of the past few days. Thank God for the music. Probing and poking around, trying to tease an emotion to remind me that yes- it is all real. Apparently this isn’t another superior nightmare. I can’t DO anything. I shudder to think how I’ll get home. I wish everyone else would go home. I need to collapse. But I’ll wait until they leave so as not to embarrass myself. Occasionally specks of static dance around my vision…that’s not right is it. To market to market. Fuck off all of you to market. Time’s moved unusually fast- what sort of day was it? Busy? Quiet? How was the footfall? I cannot recall. To market with me I thinks…”


Thursday 1st May 2008, more thoughts at work. Another bad day.
“Change the light bulb!
Try not to cry over it/him/they. Let’s be more than this. I’m too tired for work today. I want the ground to swallow me and cradle me in its pitch black warmth where I can rest and rejuvenate, ready to be reborn into a woman that doesn’t care.
Humiliation rises and falls to torment and remind me of my place. As if I could forget. Rejection from someone you don’t desire is the worst. No one wants your services this week. Tossed around. Flung to the ground like dirty socks. I can’t help but to be disgusted with the human race today. The words, the venom they spit at all hours- its exacerbating the pain in my head. The hurt those words can inflict. “To be blunt.” Yes, you were quite weren’t you. A blunted mallet swung into my chest. Honesty is bullshit. Give me kind lies any day. Sweet forgeries I can smile at with a pleasant naivety. But no, you declare blunted truth and flatten me against the wall. Well fuck you all very much.
How eloquently one can murder time by writing and lobbing thought spit all over this clean white sheet. What a treasure for the once bored.”

Good to know I made use of my time at that place aye?

Last but not least- (actually, proabably least), here's a quick bit I just wrote for a Nina Ricci competition, I had to write a fantasy...or something along those lines.


She tightens the ribbon on her chiffon dress and breathes deep before entering the blues bar. Wooden coated and vanilla scented it comforted her weary soul, as it did every night. She took her usual stance by the window, lit her cigarette and watched the first artist set up. One man and a guitar. Gravely voiced with heart-felt playing, she marvelled at how much emotion he evoked with such simple tools.
She watched breath-taken, subdued, and fantastically aware (as usual) of her nightly admirer. He wiped the dirty glass behind the bar and noticed the perfect way she moved her shoulders in time to the music, just like she did when she first walked in all those years ago.
He watched her, watching him and smiled at their silent but knowing love. One day they would speak, but for now actions were louder than any words longed to be.

Heavy entry no? I'll make the next one light, sunny and full of candy kisses I promise.

Arriving in Limbo...

Wow, my first blog. I feel nervous, like my first sexual experience- except there are less bushes here and I'm not drunk.

I've started this blog in an attempt to wake my brain up from hibernation and give it a reason to get up in the morning. I had a good three years working it hard at Uni- and grabbed myself a nice 2:1 in Media Writing in the process. After that I worked in the relatively exciting world of retail in the city I studied in. I had fun- I continued to act/drink/dress like a student, but this time I had money (not much, but still). Then I got restless, my feet got beyond itchy. And so now I've decided it's time to see the world- travel, live, explore, love. One lil' minor detail...travelling the world, it seems, is kinda expensive (who'da thunk it?) so I'm now living back with my parents struggeling to find a job in the retail world to fund this epic future adventure.

And no, I haven't found anything yet (hence the blogging phenomina). I could give in and temp in an office somewhere but I fear my brain would give up completely and abandon me if I did that- so no, I'm home day in day out hunting for jobs on the internet and occasionally wondering the town for vacancy signs. So combine that with a conscious effort to put off 'writing career' until after my travels and I have arrived in Limbo. It could be worse. Then again it could be better. To summarise it's so-so, but atleast my cat has a day-time companion.

I'm hoping this blog will rejuvinate my poor sedated mind and keep it slowly ticking over until a job arrives. God know's what I'll write in it, probably narcisistic rambles of my boredom. All spelt wrong. I may add the odd short story- perhaps sections from my novella? Maybe some music reviews I've done. If I can figure out how to post pictures, I'll certainly give that a go. I am terrible at spelling, grammer and anything technology-based... perhaps not the best candidate for a blogger/writer/whatever, but I'm going to make the best of what I've got. I hope you enjoy.

Xx