The aim

My life in Quotes.

''When a thing has been said and said well,
Have no scruple.
Take it and copy it.''
Antole France, French novelist, poet, critic.

My reasoning of this bizarre diary is not the obvious, that I am emotionally lazy and therefore resorted to copying Quotes to explain how I feel.
Well actually now that its written and staring at me painfully from a cold, white, blank screen I’m starting to wonder if in fact this is true. Some times one just does not have the sufficient words to explain how they feel, well I don’t anyway and by generalizing it I somehow feel not so inadequate.
I’m aware some people will feel that to use a quote is to cover for the absence of original thought. I however disagree. In this dying world I come from literature has been overlooked, well in the educational system that I was dragged up from it was anyway. People have forgotten the great minds and ideas of our previous ancestors. The young generation to which I am currently apart of have allowed society to brainwash them into thinking a certain way. Now I am not saying that this way of thinking is an uneducated way by any means, however due to their lack of vocabulary I in comparison seem to be smarter.
And I’m ok with this.
Since viewing the many other blogs that have been uploaded as well as poems and other exquisite works of art I am filled with a deep sense of dread, I am also extremely grateful that this is anonymous site. As the shame I will feel when someone talented beyond my comprehension will comment on ‘how one dimensional’ my work is. But in doing my work under the influence of such names as Shakespeare, R.J.Stephenson, fraud etc hiding in the shadow of there work so to speak, I’m hoping that being a novice to all this will seem less humiliating.
The ingenious idea I had for being a copy cat came Sunday evening. I had been debating for weeks weither or not to upload my manic ramblings in the hope that it could act as a cheap form of therapy. And save the mental aguish my poor friend has endured over this waste of a year. Any way I was in the middle of a three hour spring clean of my entire house, when a particular stray pair of pants bonded themselves to the leg of my bed frame. My obvious first reaction was to tug on said pants, but this did nothing to return them to my now tightening grasp. I’m sorry to say that patience is not one of my many becoming traits. So I did the one thing that many strong blooded Irish people would do. I screamed bloody murder along with a few fresh expletives while gripping manically to the nuisance piece of clothing and I tugged with all my might. Now in the sheer concentration of trying to regain both my dignity and my pants I somehow managed to lean my body back in a strange acute triangle position. In doing this I managed to put to good use the 9stone something of my bodyweight. It was at this point when a thought occurred to me, how comfortable I felt. It was like in my own dense thinking I was somehow defying gravity. This was a beautiful time. Until I heard the sharp echoing of a snap. They say when your about to die everything goes in slow motion. The only way for me to explain this sensation for those of you who tend to stay on the safer side of house cleaning by hiring a polish maid is it’s probably best described as the sheer terror one feels when leaning back on an office chair just that little bit to far and your whole life flashes before you. And for a split second you would bet your life you are about to die, your eyes bulge you grab the nearest thing available, a small trickle of urine stains your under garments. { It’s never personally happened to me but I’ve heard ;) } Well the sensation I felt at that moment comes pretty close.

Once the snap sounded I along with my pants flew face first into the wall behind me. You see for in that split second I had a choice. I could have stayed falling back first, I could have grabbed the door located to my right, I could even had tried to do the arm flap circle that results in a meek attempt at a windmill motion. But no I for reasons unknown decided to turn my body while in air flight to face the wall that was now hurtling towards me at fast speeds. In doing this and picture it if you will a bull running head first into a red flag, my face kissed the wall. What a nice way to describe the impact the large stone concrete had to my facial structure.
I woke up twenty minutes later.
The first thought I had was as you could imagine. What a funny place to fall asleep. I then tasted the blood. After minor concussion I gave up on the idea of cleaning my room. But seen as there were no apples to fall on my head to help me uncover one of the biggest discoveries of the world I instead thought of a quote.

‘As clear and as manifest as the nose in a mans face’ Robert Burton, English scholar.

At that point, clarity was certainly not the only thing that struck me.
So hence fourth my idea, maybe not original, maybe boring and probably predictable but hey I’ll give it ago.

Wish me luck.