Preamble

My name is Keith E. Glenby and I'm a writer. Or at least that is what I tell myself. Whether I can actually call myself a writer is up for debate. Unpublished, unpaid and uninspired; maybe I am a writer. Seems like most of them are in the same boat. The problems holding me back are manifold. Firstly, inspiration. Knowing what to write, and when. I have ideas all the time, but rarely ones I feel confident exploring and expanding to try and turn into some form of fiction.
Secondly, confidence. Writing is a fairly depressing pasttime for me. Not only is it incredibly hard, its very time consuming and those two factors really don't sit well with my cynical, self loathing outlook on life. Spending hours and hours doing something you find ridiculously hard and depressing, whilst being the type of person who can spend most of the time feeling sorry for yourself is not a cocktail worth swallowing.
I sense I might be losing you, whoever you are, out there in the infinite blogosphere. And why would you be here in the first place. With all that porn out there just waiting to be watched, to clutter up you cache and infect you software, while you have that post wank self awareness, which barely ever makes it worthwhile.
Back to me though, the other element which hinders my ability to be a writer is arrogance. Not my arrogance, but the arrogance required to actually be a writer. I see it this way. Firstly, any creative person who wants to tell stories, paint, sculpt, act (especially the actors) must have some degree of arrogance within them. Why you might ask. Well, to be a writer, or artist you have this need to communicate. To send out your thoughts and opinions on the state of the world, and you hope, pray even, that people will hear what you have to say and agree, or remark how insightful you are. This might not on first impression seem arrogant, but in order to think you have something worth saying is slightly arrogant at the very least isn't it. Now of course we life in the age of social media, where everyone can indulge their "voice". All social media proves really is that as a species we are quite self involved, have high opinions of ourselve and feel as though what we say is worth listening to, or reading. But it's not really is it. Very few people have the capacity to move others, to enlighten our lives, or change the way we view the world. All social media, and contemporary society proves is that most people have nothing to say, but still feel they have a right to say. And of course the more people who feel like this, the more encouraged are those of us, who didn't think what we had to say was worthwhile. So this blog will be my two cents. In it I will explore the emotional rollercoaster that is my life, the things which really grind my gears, stick in the craw and make me want to rant about all things annoying, like when you on the tube, squashed up into someones armpit, as you see that new advert for Sure maximum protection and can't help but laugh at the irony. Only you can't laugh because to do so will involve inhaling, and your just not that confident that breathing in this, just say it, overweight man's, wearing too many layers because it is winter, sweaty armpit air is actually going to keep you alive. So you suck it up, close your eyes and imagine your somewhere else.

This is my blog, and its as good as anyone elses, because I say so.

Postscript

This week I have been mostly listening to Gorilla Manor by Local Natives on Spotify. It's my album of the week. Stand out track thus far is Airplanes. The last film I saw was Nowhere Boy about the young John Lennon - it was good, but lack any real weight, or message. The last book I read was Dostoyevsky's The Idiot, not because I'm pretentious but because he's someone who actually has something to say.

On that bombshell.