Its odd how emotions dictate the way we thing and cope with the external realities. For the past weeks my nerves have been shattered, tension and anger seem to be reaching some kind of fever pitch on my mind. Truth be told the outside world felt a threatening place to be in. My mind attempted to block out any sense of joy. The streets represented a state of mind. Walking became simply a function to arrive at a destination already preplanned. It wasn't meat to be like this.
The tensions inside my mind never ceased to stop,walking slowed down the inner battles, but not for long. Memories or rather 'emotional' attacks with memories attached battled their way in the that territory called the brain.
Last night I couldn't sleep, I've suffered this problem before when depression pushes me into to much sleep. What happens is the night takes the brain, and the brain responds with an endless reworking of dormant emotion's on which images are imprinted and the fragments of these imprints hover around in a menacing aura which then reproduces another round of imprints. Last night I felt the colour GRAY.It had a body. It developed a life. In the darkness Gray became another part of the interior landscape of terror and it felt real.
Saturday, 29 October 2011
Monday, 24 October 2011
srrooling with depression
Early morning and the dark closes in. Darkness and depression and bad combination. Last I attempted my first experiment, walking into the night with depression. An idea. How does the mind cope with the darkness after a hard day doing a job which is completely against everything I hold dear. But what can I do. The country is in the grip of an economic depression. It was a wonderful cold night. Shadows and street lights glittering in the darkness. I was already down and felt extremely exhausted. This wasn't a joyful quest. My legs felt heavy and I couldent focus on anything. Strange how the mind doesent rest. Thoughts simply rush through a the brain. and everything seems blank, stuck in a time warp of mental agony. I wont give up.
This is an experiment its the first night and London is going home. The rush hour is still moving in what ever direction rush hours moves. I cant join the crowd, I'm not part of this mass. It worries me.
This is an experiment its the first night and London is going home. The rush hour is still moving in what ever direction rush hours moves. I cant join the crowd, I'm not part of this mass. It worries me.
Thursday, 20 October 2011
strolling with depression
This may appear a strange introduction to yet another idea on a blog full of changing's, shifting ideas. You could say this new adventure is the culmination of all those past explorations. Now the exploration is concerned with a greater challenge. I want to confront one aspect of my depression by walking. So whats so original about this new adventure? Walking is one of the many in things at the moment. And people who suffer from depression understand the importance of exercises and getting out and about, getting out from the enclosed prison of the depressed mind releases the soul. The sense of freedom and simple wanderings satisfies the mind. And maybe helps the brain to take its long deserved from all those powerful tensions which flood the conscious with a wilful power all of its own.
Space and the awareness of a greater emotional outside certainly lefts the mood. My big problem with depression is its ability to imprison all the negative attacks in one space and then unleash these wild negatives into the soul.
Depression doesn't simply attack the mind, it unleashes its spleen into the body.
Its a common assumption these days to suggest some form of psychical endeavour to help counter the onslaught. I don't yet need to delve into the joys of walking. Instead this small introduction is to help me clear my mind and make sense of what this idea hopes to achieve.
Dark times are suggestive of a depressive mindset. Those grim skies and empty sensations bring on a feeling of hopelessness. Suffers of depression usually react to winter with trepidation. I do. But some of my most savage attacks have occurred during The month of July. During the winter months the long dark nights heighten a sense of hopelessness. They bring with them a threat of endless mundanes.Nothing lives in the darkness.
we know that's not true, but feelings are power allies in the war chest of the depressed mind.
Walking into the darkness whilst highlighting vision of depression is a creative challenge.
Its this sense of vision I need to explore. In the dark is an alternative landscape. This is the quest.
Space and the awareness of a greater emotional outside certainly lefts the mood. My big problem with depression is its ability to imprison all the negative attacks in one space and then unleash these wild negatives into the soul.
Depression doesn't simply attack the mind, it unleashes its spleen into the body.
Its a common assumption these days to suggest some form of psychical endeavour to help counter the onslaught. I don't yet need to delve into the joys of walking. Instead this small introduction is to help me clear my mind and make sense of what this idea hopes to achieve.
Dark times are suggestive of a depressive mindset. Those grim skies and empty sensations bring on a feeling of hopelessness. Suffers of depression usually react to winter with trepidation. I do. But some of my most savage attacks have occurred during The month of July. During the winter months the long dark nights heighten a sense of hopelessness. They bring with them a threat of endless mundanes.Nothing lives in the darkness.
we know that's not true, but feelings are power allies in the war chest of the depressed mind.
Walking into the darkness whilst highlighting vision of depression is a creative challenge.
Its this sense of vision I need to explore. In the dark is an alternative landscape. This is the quest.
Friday, 7 October 2011
small notes 2
HOW THE CHILD SEES THE CITY..
Is it he mindlessness of childhood that opens up the world? Today nothing happens in a gas station. I'm eager to leave, to get where I'm going, and the station, like some paper cutout, or a Hollywood set,is simply a facade.But at 13 sitting with my back against the wall,it was marvellous place to be. Thw delicous smell of gasoline, the cars coming and going, the fresh air hose, the half heard voices buzzing in the background-these things hung musically in the air, filling me with a sense of well being. In ten minutes my psyche would be topped up like up like the tanks of the automobiles....FRANK CONROY..
Is it he mindlessness of childhood that opens up the world? Today nothing happens in a gas station. I'm eager to leave, to get where I'm going, and the station, like some paper cutout, or a Hollywood set,is simply a facade.But at 13 sitting with my back against the wall,it was marvellous place to be. Thw delicous smell of gasoline, the cars coming and going, the fresh air hose, the half heard voices buzzing in the background-these things hung musically in the air, filling me with a sense of well being. In ten minutes my psyche would be topped up like up like the tanks of the automobiles....FRANK CONROY..
Sunday, 2 October 2011
small notes
This blog keeps morphing into ideas which give the appearance of have no connection with the previous set of ideas. Time in the mental space doesn't leave me to much room to gather my thoughts into a coherent set of worked out arguments. Some weeks ago I was convinced I lost this blog. Was I upset? Yes. Although the absence of the blog gave me the reason to re think what a blog means to the person writing the blog, and, how do other people read the blog?
What is a blog intended to achieve?
I think my original mistake was the view the blog as a steeping stone towards engaging people in some kind of quest. What quest? I keep thinking. One thought leads on to another thought,sometimes without logic. Is this a form of Post Modern mourning in a world where the Post Modern is now mocked.
The Post Modern might be mocked, never the less, aspects of political and economic discourse bears all the all marks of a Post Modern world.This is scary.
So what am I going to explore now?
Simple....culture, walking and making up stories.
Action comes from an over active mind. I will try and post every two days. Its my little note to the world.
What is a blog intended to achieve?
I think my original mistake was the view the blog as a steeping stone towards engaging people in some kind of quest. What quest? I keep thinking. One thought leads on to another thought,sometimes without logic. Is this a form of Post Modern mourning in a world where the Post Modern is now mocked.
The Post Modern might be mocked, never the less, aspects of political and economic discourse bears all the all marks of a Post Modern world.This is scary.
So what am I going to explore now?
Simple....culture, walking and making up stories.
Action comes from an over active mind. I will try and post every two days. Its my little note to the world.
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