There is a horde of half finished and abandoned projects on the internet. Hundreds of thousands of YouTube videos with single digit views, SoundCloud MP3s never listened to by any one other than their creator, and blogs left to gather digital dust by writers who let it slip through their grasp as life shifted through its innumerable gears. Many seasons have passed since I last thought of posting here. This microscopic corner of cyberspace, this little public expression I dare give myself, has been left idling. I imagine like most who leave artefacts of themselves on the internet, there was no big Thing which took me away, it just…did.
As the seasons change once more; as mist and chill descend, leaves turn amber, and we are drawn inside to cosy rooms and closed windows, I feel a selfish urge to return. So here I am. I don’t know that I want to talk about running much. Everyone talks in running. Go for a run with a runner and talk about running. Go for a coffee with a runner and talk about running. Runners love talking about running as much as we love running, possibly even more so. It can be difficult to do anything else, it is a demanding hobby in terms of physical and mental energy. But this isn’t about running – although sometimes it will be impossible not to be. No, this is about writing. This is about satisfying an urge I’ve always had, an itch which has only ever been partially scratched.
I’ve tried drink, drugs, and a philosophy degree in my attempts to get a bloody grip on the state of It All, and the only thing which has ever got me halfway there is the scratch of pen on paper and the tap of keys on a darkened keyboard, the endless flow of my own traitorous inner monologue quieted by the leeching of that dark energy onto a page. This has been true since I was scratching out Star Wars fan fiction on the ring bound pages of my Arsenal notebook (I always wanted to see a clone trooper with the Force).
To give something back and soften the selfishness of this act, have an unsolicited song recommendation:
Rainbow Kitten Surprise should be the name of a hyperpop band. It’s bubblegum pink, brash and bassy, but that is not what this song is. This is a jam. It’s musically loose, spiralling, but lyrically a smack in the face, and hella punchy at 2 and a half minutes. And yes okay, this video has 41 million views, I’m not exactly digging deep here but for whatever reason this never reached my ears until a few weeks ago. The whole album is well worth a listen, but the 30 second breakdown at the end of this track is my favourite bite of music I’ve heard all year.
run into words 