"You wore out your welcome with random precision, caught on the steel breeze..."
I've always thought that line was an apt description of me, ever since I first heard it aged 17 or 18.
Even then, it seemed I was greatly deficient in thoughtfulness or generosity, perhaps time or petty cash, maybe just empathy or genius. Whatever the reason, it seems very much to me that all my friends have been very generous and kind to me, and I've been.... Well, just there. Sitting in their collective sitting rooms. Drinking their tea and alcohol. Talking nonsense. Occasionally sobbing or bleeding on their floors.
And it's never struck me as a fair exchange.
(Back in the day, one used to invite poets, philosophers, artists and authors to salons: the patron would provide the venue, grub and booze, the artists would bring wit and brilliance. The artist was pampered, the patron basked in reflected glory - as well as the praise, envy and gossip of their peers. But I'm not a genius, or even a wit, and this isn't the 18th Century.)
I used to think, 'One day, when I've improved a bit, I'll write something amazing that will be adored and also make me rich(ish). I'll have a little place all of my own and I'll keep a very good kitchen and an awesome cellar. Then I'll be able to pay off all those debts I've accrued - I'll be able to return with interest all those hours of hospitality and care. I'll even take other people out for a drink - the novelty!'
Neurons aren't feeling so optimistic today, and anyhow, they think they might be looking at it wrong. I might never get to the magical town of I Can Give Back My Due. So how about instead, I give some small presents in the present?
If I can write you something, draw you something, make you something, tarot something, hex you something, send you something, then I shall do so. Look at it as a sort of prompt-fill. Leave me an ANONYMOUS comment here, saying what you'd like to receive. (If you ask for something I know I'd be rubbish at, I'll suggest you ask for something different.) When I've completed the request, I'll either email/virtual-post it or reply to your comment so I can get an address to real-post it. Or something.
(Corvid now has serious trepidation as sod's law states either no one will answer or everyone will!)
Even then, it seemed I was greatly deficient in thoughtfulness or generosity, perhaps time or petty cash, maybe just empathy or genius. Whatever the reason, it seems very much to me that all my friends have been very generous and kind to me, and I've been.... Well, just there. Sitting in their collective sitting rooms. Drinking their tea and alcohol. Talking nonsense. Occasionally sobbing or bleeding on their floors.
And it's never struck me as a fair exchange.
(Back in the day, one used to invite poets, philosophers, artists and authors to salons: the patron would provide the venue, grub and booze, the artists would bring wit and brilliance. The artist was pampered, the patron basked in reflected glory - as well as the praise, envy and gossip of their peers. But I'm not a genius, or even a wit, and this isn't the 18th Century.)
I used to think, 'One day, when I've improved a bit, I'll write something amazing that will be adored and also make me rich(ish). I'll have a little place all of my own and I'll keep a very good kitchen and an awesome cellar. Then I'll be able to pay off all those debts I've accrued - I'll be able to return with interest all those hours of hospitality and care. I'll even take other people out for a drink - the novelty!'
Neurons aren't feeling so optimistic today, and anyhow, they think they might be looking at it wrong. I might never get to the magical town of I Can Give Back My Due. So how about instead, I give some small presents in the present?
If I can write you something, draw you something, make you something, tarot something, hex you something, send you something, then I shall do so. Look at it as a sort of prompt-fill. Leave me an ANONYMOUS comment here, saying what you'd like to receive. (If you ask for something I know I'd be rubbish at, I'll suggest you ask for something different.) When I've completed the request, I'll either email/virtual-post it or reply to your comment so I can get an address to real-post it. Or something.
(Corvid now has serious trepidation as sod's law states either no one will answer or everyone will!)