writing
I started writing something today...I don't know how good it is...or if I will ever put the whole thing out there. I think I will but I don't think it's all that great. May take lots of editing.
I will however publish the first bit of it here...just because I'm curious what you think of it?
Feel free to comment...good or bad.
Here you go:
There are many people who have had an impact on my life. Some impacts have been massive, and others have been very small. Some people may know they’ve impacted on my life, others may not even remember me.
Recently, I read two books that have had an influence on how I look at the world, and made me think about these impacts...and how I may have impacted others.
The first I read around a year ago. It was a graphic novel by the name of “Freddie and Me” by Mike Dawson. It was a sort of Autobiography which told the story of the artists life but by comparing it to the band Queen and how they impacted his life...even though they never met each other. I started reading it just because it was a book that was about Queen...and I saw a bit of me in those pages too.
In one scene, Mike talks about looking down at a worm and forcing himself to remember that moment because memory is so fragile. I had a similar experience in Germany while walking with my Mum and brother to the NAFFI. Instead of a worm, it was a set of gas/fuel pipes that ran above ground by the side of the pavement. I remember walking alongside my Mum and looking at the pipes. At the time, I couldn’t remember seeing them before...I knew, even though I was quite young, that they had always been there...so why couldn’t I remember them? I used to have these sort of conversations all the time when walking. A tradition I still keep up to this day. I do my best thinking while walking. On the same day, I remember also wondering if everyone saw the world the same way I did. If everyone saw the world, literally, the same way. (The answer is obviously no. For instance, I am short sighted and slightly colour blind. So even with my glasses...I have fuzzy images in my peripheral vision, and greens look dull and boring to me...unless they’re beside a bright red).
In “Freddie and Me”, Mike talks about how other people remember the same situations. Situations he experienced, but saw from his point of view. He wondered what other people’s memories of the same moments would be. How would his Dad remember saying “goodbye” before heading to America to start setting up a new life for them all? This reminded me of my thoughts about if everyone saw things the same way...but this time, I was wondering how people perceived different things now as well. Obviously, different people will remember different things, dependant on what they see as being important. It’s kind of like giving directions to someone in the street.
When I need to remember how to get somewhere, I don’t remember “First left, second right...” I tend to remember “scenes” on the route. So if I pass a church, I’ll remember to look for that church. But it’s certain things that stick out to me I look for. So unusual looking buildings, things that are related to interests of mine (“Go past the observatory, past the Airfix model shop). However, someone else may need to know the street names or compass headings.
Just the other night, I was walking home after a night out, and I passed a couple fighting in the street. The man was walking off and the woman was in hot pursuit. She was demanding her “house key” which he was saying was his house. There was some quite abusive language being thrown about. She was in tears and he was acting quite nonchalant about the whole affair. It was this comparison between their two states of mind I remember most vividly. How could he be so blasé about it? Obviously I didn’t know much about the whole situation, but that’s the thought I came away from it with.
What was their memory of that night? Do they even remember the actual argument, or were they too drunk to properly remember it? Does this happen on a weekly basis? Is this the first argument? I don’t know, and suppose I never will.
The other book that had an effect on me was one I read just last week. It’s called “Eleven” by the comedian Mark Watson. It is about an event in one man’s life that then goes on to affect 11 other people’s lives. It goes on to show how even something you think is insignificant can go on an impact millions of people, and even come back on you! It also shows how it is possible to affect the world for good just by talking to someone. This is something I’ve actually thought about before, but this book brought it to the front of my mind and made me really think about it.
It made me think about all those times I’ve tried to give advice to my friends. I’ve listened to their problems and tried to give some kind of sensible advice. Or the time I sat with a girl on her doorstep because she’d had an argument with her boyfriend in a club and she’d asked to use my phone when we bumped into each other on the way home. We didn’t know each other...had never even seen each other before, but that one act of kindness in allowing her to use my phone seemed to make me trustworthy enough to sit on a doorstep at 3am and talk about her problems. We sat there for over an hour...by which time her flatmate arrived home and we said cheerio and went our separate ways. I thought of her every time I passed that door...but never saw her again. Does she even remember me? Or do I cling to the memory as a self proof that I’m actually a nice guy? We never exchanged names either...does she just remember me as the anonymous agony uncle or am I some sort of knight in shining armour who gave her a shoulder to cry on and a jacket to keep warm?
I will however publish the first bit of it here...just because I'm curious what you think of it?
Feel free to comment...good or bad.
Here you go:
There are many people who have had an impact on my life. Some impacts have been massive, and others have been very small. Some people may know they’ve impacted on my life, others may not even remember me.
Recently, I read two books that have had an influence on how I look at the world, and made me think about these impacts...and how I may have impacted others.
The first I read around a year ago. It was a graphic novel by the name of “Freddie and Me” by Mike Dawson. It was a sort of Autobiography which told the story of the artists life but by comparing it to the band Queen and how they impacted his life...even though they never met each other. I started reading it just because it was a book that was about Queen...and I saw a bit of me in those pages too.
In one scene, Mike talks about looking down at a worm and forcing himself to remember that moment because memory is so fragile. I had a similar experience in Germany while walking with my Mum and brother to the NAFFI. Instead of a worm, it was a set of gas/fuel pipes that ran above ground by the side of the pavement. I remember walking alongside my Mum and looking at the pipes. At the time, I couldn’t remember seeing them before...I knew, even though I was quite young, that they had always been there...so why couldn’t I remember them? I used to have these sort of conversations all the time when walking. A tradition I still keep up to this day. I do my best thinking while walking. On the same day, I remember also wondering if everyone saw the world the same way I did. If everyone saw the world, literally, the same way. (The answer is obviously no. For instance, I am short sighted and slightly colour blind. So even with my glasses...I have fuzzy images in my peripheral vision, and greens look dull and boring to me...unless they’re beside a bright red).
In “Freddie and Me”, Mike talks about how other people remember the same situations. Situations he experienced, but saw from his point of view. He wondered what other people’s memories of the same moments would be. How would his Dad remember saying “goodbye” before heading to America to start setting up a new life for them all? This reminded me of my thoughts about if everyone saw things the same way...but this time, I was wondering how people perceived different things now as well. Obviously, different people will remember different things, dependant on what they see as being important. It’s kind of like giving directions to someone in the street.
When I need to remember how to get somewhere, I don’t remember “First left, second right...” I tend to remember “scenes” on the route. So if I pass a church, I’ll remember to look for that church. But it’s certain things that stick out to me I look for. So unusual looking buildings, things that are related to interests of mine (“Go past the observatory, past the Airfix model shop). However, someone else may need to know the street names or compass headings.
Just the other night, I was walking home after a night out, and I passed a couple fighting in the street. The man was walking off and the woman was in hot pursuit. She was demanding her “house key” which he was saying was his house. There was some quite abusive language being thrown about. She was in tears and he was acting quite nonchalant about the whole affair. It was this comparison between their two states of mind I remember most vividly. How could he be so blasé about it? Obviously I didn’t know much about the whole situation, but that’s the thought I came away from it with.
What was their memory of that night? Do they even remember the actual argument, or were they too drunk to properly remember it? Does this happen on a weekly basis? Is this the first argument? I don’t know, and suppose I never will.
The other book that had an effect on me was one I read just last week. It’s called “Eleven” by the comedian Mark Watson. It is about an event in one man’s life that then goes on to affect 11 other people’s lives. It goes on to show how even something you think is insignificant can go on an impact millions of people, and even come back on you! It also shows how it is possible to affect the world for good just by talking to someone. This is something I’ve actually thought about before, but this book brought it to the front of my mind and made me really think about it.
It made me think about all those times I’ve tried to give advice to my friends. I’ve listened to their problems and tried to give some kind of sensible advice. Or the time I sat with a girl on her doorstep because she’d had an argument with her boyfriend in a club and she’d asked to use my phone when we bumped into each other on the way home. We didn’t know each other...had never even seen each other before, but that one act of kindness in allowing her to use my phone seemed to make me trustworthy enough to sit on a doorstep at 3am and talk about her problems. We sat there for over an hour...by which time her flatmate arrived home and we said cheerio and went our separate ways. I thought of her every time I passed that door...but never saw her again. Does she even remember me? Or do I cling to the memory as a self proof that I’m actually a nice guy? We never exchanged names either...does she just remember me as the anonymous agony uncle or am I some sort of knight in shining armour who gave her a shoulder to cry on and a jacket to keep warm?