A Few Words on My Sparse Content

Hey people, I haven’t forgotten you awesome, lovely lot, I promise!

I’ve been spending a lot of time writing over on my other blog (Peach’s Almanac) Which I understand will be of little interest to most of you – but that’s fine, it’s something I’ve been mulling over for quite a while now. I thought, why not take the plunge!

I plan to get back into writing on here regularly, poems, stories, and rants on life – you know the drill! It’ll happen, I promise!

So, bear with me whilst I sort out my schedule, and set aside time for writing on both platforms. I don’t have any plans on leaving you out in the cold.

Don’t forget me! 😀

Peach’s Almanac – Another Blog!

Hey you lovely people! ❤

Recently I have started a new blog. (don’t worry, I’ll still be posting here, and with as much frequency, this is just extra!)

It’s dedicated to Anime, Essays, Movies, Literature  – you know, pop-culture stuff, reviews and the like. You can do the clickety below and follow if any of that tickles your fancy. I look forward to seeing you there. And for those who aren’t sufficiently tickled. I look forward to seeing you here, as always! 😀

Peach’s Almanac

 

^ I like the clickety!!

 

Thanks, as always.

-Chris ❤

 

My Relationship With Welcome to the N.H.K

For a long time, I’ve been a lover of anime. Ever since I was a young kid, I remember watching Studio Ghibli film’s alongside my dad and sister, over and over again. They never got boring; the rich lands, and the characters, the stories – they seemed so utterly magical, so out-of-this-world, and yet completely believable, completely immersive. Sure, no doubt some of it was due to the impressionability of my younger self… but the remainder, was an intrinsic love for narrative of that type, one that would develop and mature as I grew older – as I grow older. Most notably the ‘Slice of Life‘ genre of anime.

Not just anime itself, but the surrealism which is often intrinsic to its nature. That which my most-loved author Haruki Murakami often portrays to such mesmerising levels.

Welcome to the N.H.K was originally a Japanese novel written by Tatsuhiko Takimoto , which was later adapted into a serialised manga, and then, to critical acclaim, a 24-episode anime series in 2006. 

I can’t remember the exact date, or even the exact year when I first watched it. I guess somewhere around 2013-14. At that time, watching it, I realised so many things – too many things. Most of all, it absolutely terrified me – ripped open my soul and left it there to be eroded by the environment if I did nothing to protect it from the elements. Here’s a synopsis: (from myanimelist.net)Read More »

Thank You – I Mean It!

This, is rather spontaneous, but it’s been on my mind, so why not also write a little on it?


I’ve been writing on here regularly since the beginning of October last year.

What did I think it might be back then? Well… to be honest, I saw it as nothing more than a place for my tumultuous thoughts to reside, a place where they would do no harm. It was the period when I returned home from university after a short week. Things weren’t great, in fact, they were awful. Though, I suppose they could have been far, far worse.

I didn’t know what to do.

I wasn’t sure I could do anything at all, but slumber in my anxiety…

So, I came home, and began writing here. At the beginning, it was simple. There were no goals, no aspirations, no plans. I just needed to know somebody could read what I wrote if they so pleased. I found comfort in that. I still do. Of course I do. I’m humbled by those of you who regularly read what I write. That means a massive amount. I don’t take that for granted.

I got into writing poetry.

I got into writing ‘Tiny Stories.’

I got into so many things.

I’m still getting into them…

This has become a staple part of the life I’m currently living. I don’t know where it’s heading, and I don’t want to know. Not everything I post is polished, and I don’t require it to be. I hope you can see something heartfelt in them, in the poems or stories. Each one of them is a part of me represented with words… of varying qualities. It’s a journey of self-discovery for the most part – if I’m able to say that without sounding pretentious. I don’t know what’s coming tomorrow. What words will arise with the sun, and what anxieties will haunt with the waning of it.

A life where everything is expected would certainly be boring.

It’s enlightening to see and read all your words too, because they are so beautiful, and it would be a shame for them not to be heard. This really is a great community, and now, I’m not sure what I’d do without it. I harbour a deep well of loneliness, and if I’m able to fill even a tiny part of it, that’s more than I could ever ask for. I need that motivation to create, to push myself onwards to deeper waters – to discover things about myself that are required, if not pleasant.

So… Thank You!

 

-Chris ❤

 

Diamond Triplet

Tell me those three words people dream of hearing. You know, those infamous ones. The ones that are the foundation of humanity; the ones that have created and shaped the society we live in. People think, and people do. Not speaking. Not eating – life in a cardboard box. Three words; three ephemeral beings floating through the thick sludge of consciousness. Aghast! Ghouls walking the streets we proclaim to call home. The very bricks we so pitifully reside within. Scrupulous, and entirely uncaring. Nature ravaged – bare! And yet throughout, the three remain…

 

-Chris ❤

Lack of Content…

Alright, so, I’ve been lapsing in the amount of things I’ve been putting out there, on here. I don’t know exactly why this is. But, it is something I want to change.

(Over the last few days I’ll blame the food poisoning I received from eating some rather sketchy, and frankly dubious tofu that had been open a little too long… but, alas! That is no excuse.)

I’ve been struggling to find the motivation, and the ideas for the type of content I want to create – the type I want to be viewed. Then again, when hasn’t the complete absence of motivation marred my life…?

I want to write so much more poetry, but recently, the amount of ideas supplied to me seem comparable to the water content of the Sahara desert. Though, maybe I have simply become pickier with the type of things I’m willing to publish. Maybe I’m setting a higher standard for myself, and without realising it, the flow of concepts is being stemmed. I sit, and I think, but there is nothing of value, nothing that I can turn into words, nothing that means anything. My mind feels like a swirling pit of useless drivel that even I couldn’t care about. I don’t know how to transform that into something tangible, something that has depth, and meaning.

There are other things I want to work on too. Namely, what I like to call ‘Tiny Stories‘ – stories that are usually less than a 1000 words. But even these take time to write, and the motivation is as equally elusive. I wish I could sit and naturally write for hours upon hours; poetry, stories, outlines, chapters of WIPS – anything! Yet, it is not natural, it is something that I have to carefully curate, carefully watch and pull myself back to when I am going off track.

Of course, as with anything you love, you carry on trying, you find a way to make things work. There’s no doubt that I’ll do this. A life without writing – any kind – it would appear, well, utterly barren, starved of colour.

But don’t worry, I’ll get back into it. There’s much more to come. I’ve got to sort through that drivel at some point, right?

 

-Chris ❤

BoA – Some Moons Ago

Some time ago… I would say two years… or maybe three, I’m not so certain. I listened to this song religiously. I’m not entirely sure why. K-pop definitely isn’t the kind of music I listen to on a regular basis. It isn’t even the kind of music I particularly enjoy at all… And, I suppose I can say the same for many of you who might read this.

So, a little context, right? Well, back then I was in something of a pickle. Alright, that’s an understatment, I was completely fucked. The depression was at its worst. I couldn’t get through a minute without questioning everything, without questioning life itself. Looking back, sure, it could have been worse, much worse. But in the heat of the passing moments, you don’t think about that. The mind is selfish, and when in such a state, nothing mattered beyond myself.Read More »