Three

Day One of ‘editing my novel that will become a novella’ for two hours each morning went incredibly well. I’ve also inserted PT and a run into the equation, which means other stuff gets written a bit later than normal. It feels comfortable, and eminently doable for the next month. Of course, there isn’t anything else as yet inserted into the schedule on top, so you know… there’s plenty of potential for disaster.


whatiswrong

I was going to write a long, painful and largely pointless treatise today on other people’s drama. Honestly, there is no point in even going there, when everything else that is wrong with the World gets dragged into equal consideration. The easiest thing is just to mute and/or block and just carry on regardless, because I don’t need to see this.

It is clear why drama happens. It makes perfect sense when you grasp how complex the relationships are between people online. However, if there comes a moment when pointing out someone’s fucking stupidity becomes nothing more than petty name-calling or angry recrimination, it is time to go do summat else.

Similarly, if you’re having tremendous difficulty with your lifestyle, knowing when to share and when to shut up is, without doubt, the best lesson you will ever learn.


I promise to be more interesting as the week goes on, but for now this is full-on Organisation Mode…

Think

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I wasn’t going to write until Monday, but as is often the case circumstances had other ideas.


For a long time, I’d been fairly desperate for reassurance: confirmation that what I said and did had some, any kind of relevance. This peaked about eighteen months ago when it was necessary to have a daily affirmation that yes, I mattered. Twitter was a great means by which that could be served and an obsession with followers and numbers became, at times, potentially self-destructive. I’ve always flirted a thin line with obsessive behaviour via the Internet. It’s the cheapest and easiest drug to become addicted to.

What broke this dependence was the actions of one person. They crossed a line which I’d drawn without realising, and recalled a time when I did some pretty stupid shit in order to feel as if I mattered. Over time, and with the unconditional love of tiny humans, emerged the true understanding of what I was and how that ought to translate to decent human behaviour. So, when that person was dumb, it was time to walk away. When they left Twitter, my assumptions over their actions was pretty much confirmed.

Except, they came back. On reflection, it shouldn’t have been a surprise, as they’d left several times before, and when I followed them back without being acknowledged, their actions continued to justify my feelings. Except, it transpires from having read third party conversations, I was the problem. That’s when it finally hit home. You cannot expect other people to do anything except look after themselves. The ones that really care don’t act like fucking morons. They’re not toxic. Leave those people alone. Stop gravitating towards people who hurt you.

Look for the good people and stick with them.

I unfollowed someone this week as I watched them thank people for birthday wishes, politely and dutifully scrolling through their list, except no, not me. I’ve had enough with the people who feel I’m a suppressed passive aggressive needy fucker, this is not about pointing and going ‘what about me?’ This is accepting this person wanted me in their Followers to keep up the numbers but now has me on mute. It’s really not hard to accept this most modern of rebuttals, but honestly I don’t want to be where people won’t respect and listen. So, we no longer follow each other.

If they notice and apologise, I’ll be fucking staggered.

There is no time left to fuck about with this stuff, there is a planet to save, and if your only contribution towards being better people is to do nothing or hope someone else deals with the difficult problems I do not need you in my life any more.