Philip Le Saint
10-03-2015, 08:15 PM
So I decided to start writing something a bit like Joyce. Not sure if it's a complete waste of time or worth continuing. It's not long so far but you get the general impression of it. Any opinions would be helpful thanks. (The asterix aren't mine.)
She's awake. Unhappy.....Awake and not going back to sleep. Toilet first; then bottle, then smoke, then bottle again, then hope she's drowsy. No use, only get mad, not worth it. Need the toilet now anyways. Lights left on, doesn't understand the price, don't like people seeing toilet light on all night, doesn't sit right. Bowls clean rim looks a mess, grab toilet paper and wipe it but not right now. Glamorous life. Wake up to problems. Everything one step at a time, hate being just one person. A world full of me would be such a utopia. The world running in waves of progress. One thing then the next. Still not settled, only make it worse going in now. Bottle first. Get rizlas out while kettle starts. Baccy, empty, letter, junk, battery. God how many times does this happen, endless pile of ****. Merde. Sel de mer. Bonjour, je joue avec un p.c. Cava? Oui cava bien et tu cava? Non. J'habite un crappy maison et et. Need more words, never know the right word. Not hard just another name for something, like orange. Dyads. Ten to six That's alright plenty of time to waste. Really hope she goes to sleep quick, just have bottle and pass out like she used to. Play a game? Can't think of anything, played everything. There's got to be something worth playing, haven't got time to fully invest so what's the point in starting. Something quick? What was recent? Should write something, it's free. Be a star. Easy money unless you count the hours, and market and current aesthetic climate. Depends on market, can't see Joyce being taken on now, nothing to sell to teens and women. High modernist, can't stand Woolf. Stream of consciousness bollocks. What point is there in reading about mundane everyday bollocks. Balls shifted uncomfortably there lads, c'mon. Need to wash my hands of this now. Hygiene first. Just write stuff , make money. Cornelius Frost. Ordinary guy gets buried with five hundred one pence pieces, barters with the boatman to take him to each different afterlife. Assembles a crew ends up being mostly evil ones. A dragon, some cockroach mage. Nope that’s just ripping off dragon ball and sponge bob. Evil cockroach in a lab coat. Shadow? Nevermind, has a ship with a dragon and visits Valhalla. Fighting time, Hammer comes down, shockwave but not good enough, laughing, taunting blonde built opponent. Fast like teleporting, just dodging, waits. Uses two finger from right hand riposte, off balance opponent open for fancy spinning back kick. Bang right into the ground. Shock. They don't count on the fact that he knows he's a soul. Souls only got mass when they want. Maybe instead he challenges death to mortal combat. Death can't win he's immortal. Gets super powers like that. Need a coffee, bottle should be alright for a bit longer, nah it'd be cruel best go sort it now. Her.
“Hey there my sweet little angel, daddy hears you” Mommy doesn't, hope this imprints in your little head.
“Dada is here, Ohayo goziamasu kuma-chan kawaii, kawaii” Glad noone heard that, it's right weeabo ****.
“Come on, are we going to get that nappy off? Oh yes we are. Yes we are”. Ahh there's no goddamn cotton wool. What am I supposed to do now. There's gotta be some here somewhere. Somewhere. Basket, no, blanket under, no. ****ing god damn cotton wool bull****. Why the **** does it have to be such a goddamn struggle to find anything.
“Yes yes, hunny, just a minute daddy is just trying to find the goddamn cotton wool”. Going to have to go downstairs, take her with me can't just leave her crying.
“Right up we get, ra ra ra ra” pleasant being a dad.
“Quite now my little angel, let's sneak past mummy” Never her goddamn turn in the morning, she knows me too well. Certain she ignores baby waiting for me to do it.
“Here we go, it's not too bad now is it? Is it? That's right Daddy is here, it's okay now. We can smile, yes we can, yes we can” No poop.
“No poop for daddy, aren't we a good girl eh? Yes we are!” The royal we? No wonder babies don't understand separation, keep referring to them in the collective. Mind, they probably think a bit like dogs, she can recognise her food bowl and her cot. Should nuzzle her more like a monkey, we're monkeys, figure monkey mothers know what's natural.
“It's okay, okay, daddy is just getting your bottle. Just stay still, good girl”.
She's awake. Unhappy.....Awake and not going back to sleep. Toilet first; then bottle, then smoke, then bottle again, then hope she's drowsy. No use, only get mad, not worth it. Need the toilet now anyways. Lights left on, doesn't understand the price, don't like people seeing toilet light on all night, doesn't sit right. Bowls clean rim looks a mess, grab toilet paper and wipe it but not right now. Glamorous life. Wake up to problems. Everything one step at a time, hate being just one person. A world full of me would be such a utopia. The world running in waves of progress. One thing then the next. Still not settled, only make it worse going in now. Bottle first. Get rizlas out while kettle starts. Baccy, empty, letter, junk, battery. God how many times does this happen, endless pile of ****. Merde. Sel de mer. Bonjour, je joue avec un p.c. Cava? Oui cava bien et tu cava? Non. J'habite un crappy maison et et. Need more words, never know the right word. Not hard just another name for something, like orange. Dyads. Ten to six That's alright plenty of time to waste. Really hope she goes to sleep quick, just have bottle and pass out like she used to. Play a game? Can't think of anything, played everything. There's got to be something worth playing, haven't got time to fully invest so what's the point in starting. Something quick? What was recent? Should write something, it's free. Be a star. Easy money unless you count the hours, and market and current aesthetic climate. Depends on market, can't see Joyce being taken on now, nothing to sell to teens and women. High modernist, can't stand Woolf. Stream of consciousness bollocks. What point is there in reading about mundane everyday bollocks. Balls shifted uncomfortably there lads, c'mon. Need to wash my hands of this now. Hygiene first. Just write stuff , make money. Cornelius Frost. Ordinary guy gets buried with five hundred one pence pieces, barters with the boatman to take him to each different afterlife. Assembles a crew ends up being mostly evil ones. A dragon, some cockroach mage. Nope that’s just ripping off dragon ball and sponge bob. Evil cockroach in a lab coat. Shadow? Nevermind, has a ship with a dragon and visits Valhalla. Fighting time, Hammer comes down, shockwave but not good enough, laughing, taunting blonde built opponent. Fast like teleporting, just dodging, waits. Uses two finger from right hand riposte, off balance opponent open for fancy spinning back kick. Bang right into the ground. Shock. They don't count on the fact that he knows he's a soul. Souls only got mass when they want. Maybe instead he challenges death to mortal combat. Death can't win he's immortal. Gets super powers like that. Need a coffee, bottle should be alright for a bit longer, nah it'd be cruel best go sort it now. Her.
“Hey there my sweet little angel, daddy hears you” Mommy doesn't, hope this imprints in your little head.
“Dada is here, Ohayo goziamasu kuma-chan kawaii, kawaii” Glad noone heard that, it's right weeabo ****.
“Come on, are we going to get that nappy off? Oh yes we are. Yes we are”. Ahh there's no goddamn cotton wool. What am I supposed to do now. There's gotta be some here somewhere. Somewhere. Basket, no, blanket under, no. ****ing god damn cotton wool bull****. Why the **** does it have to be such a goddamn struggle to find anything.
“Yes yes, hunny, just a minute daddy is just trying to find the goddamn cotton wool”. Going to have to go downstairs, take her with me can't just leave her crying.
“Right up we get, ra ra ra ra” pleasant being a dad.
“Quite now my little angel, let's sneak past mummy” Never her goddamn turn in the morning, she knows me too well. Certain she ignores baby waiting for me to do it.
“Here we go, it's not too bad now is it? Is it? That's right Daddy is here, it's okay now. We can smile, yes we can, yes we can” No poop.
“No poop for daddy, aren't we a good girl eh? Yes we are!” The royal we? No wonder babies don't understand separation, keep referring to them in the collective. Mind, they probably think a bit like dogs, she can recognise her food bowl and her cot. Should nuzzle her more like a monkey, we're monkeys, figure monkey mothers know what's natural.
“It's okay, okay, daddy is just getting your bottle. Just stay still, good girl”.