Creative Junctions.
8 JUNE 2024 - My Cam Shy Life - Gratitude - Recorded Message - Poem - Song! xx
Greetings Chasers!
I’m so sorry but we’re back to being over familiar in that EVER SINCE we all decided that I would refrain from addressing you as ‘my Chasers’ all of my content has become quite lame, boring at best and wasteful at worst. I’m hardly superstitious but it has occurred to me that I do actually miss having people out there in the world reading my words, thoughts, stories and ideas who I can think of as ‘mine’ - my kind of people, my group, my collective, mine allllllll miiiiiine now! haha..x I have to say that a few new gorgeous faces have joined us in this journey we call life (on Substack) as subscribers and I am ‘chuffed to pieces’ delighted in fact to have you on board. Thank you and most of all I really do appreciate everyone who is still here with me and have been from the very beginning HUGE congratulations to myself for keeping you!
THANK YOU X0X0X
Deep Dive…
I woke up this morning…. (“ got myself a g_n..” ) *sings* Surpranos Theme Song
Today’s ‘DEEP’ dive into the waking mind of Chasey Delaney. Having a smoke at the window after various morning ‘tings have been completed (dog wee-wee’d and watered, coffee made, partner’s alarm call, him out on a walk with dog) I had a few moments in silence before I slide the music on the TV into the mix.. feeling like I’ve let the world down. All those times I should have been there for the people who would have been there for me. I’m thinking of people dying all around me and while I am busy carrying around my inherited trauma navigating it within me history continues repeating itself. With a head full of broken biscuits I sit and think of all those women before me. The donated blood that comes with grief running freely through me. I come from a line of disappointed women. I have an entire world of mystery attached to my extended maternal family. I am worrying about the ‘results’ of my partner’s biopsy after his recent minor surgery to remove what we believe was a BIG wart. The doctor had other concerns and has spooked us out a bit asking questions about any family history of skin cancer, does he use sunbeds, has he been unusually exposed to the sun recently. All which may have been just routine enquiries to tick boxes on the biopsy form (that’s what I’ve been suggesting anyway) have made us a bit uneasy. He did go and get his external stitches removed later that day (today) and still no results.
Creative Junction
Last night I stayed awake until about 3:00 am. I was attempting to do some casual writing for my newsletters but couldn’t shift this immense feeling of agitation and boredom combined. I NEVER get bored usually because my brain is always wired to create something. I have plenty of time on my hands and I love it. Sometimes, I feel like the luckiest bum in the world. Then it occurs to me that I have no real lifestyle or social life and again, that just cements the feeling of gratitude. I know a lot of writer’s major restrictions involve TIME. I like my SLOW LIVING world of writing and sharing my views. I also know that maybe this is the reason why at times like these I have little motivation, inspiration or news to tell the world about in my writing. The strong antipsychotic medication also must have some sort of incapacitating effect on me after it first goes back into my system. Making me wish that I didn’t need these man-made drugs to provide me with something worth staying in this world for, even if it’s not any kind of life that is enviable, it's the kind of mindset that I need to make me look at life in a new light. It gives me the Will to Stay Alive. I should really go outside more. I often only get as far as the back garden or the front door step or a shop which is about 2 minutes walking distance from my place. It’s not that I really want to be around people more but last night I just wanted to reach out and talk to someone, anyone, you guys. The thing is my mood being so slow and at a low ebb and the meds still kicking in my bloodstream. I couldn’t muster much of a conversation on my podcast that went tits up. I couldn’t write and not only that I could not seem to function enough to talk either. I felt in limbo. How else could I get creative and occupy my restless mind (now stagnated temporarily) without writing or talking? I don’t have my tools for making music mixes but I could definitely improvise. It got me thinking about life and its many distractions and diversions along the ‘way’ and maybe I have reached a turning point, a fork in the road, a creative junction. Maybe, I need another way to communicate with my world and my Chasers at times when I am struggling to provide even the most basic of essays, or podcast updates. I didn’t wish to bother the ‘Daily Chasers’ with my midnight ramblings, long pauses and an attempt at a write-with-me-and-music type audio recording (cut short of course). If you’re interested in listening to that ridiculous episode and please subscribe there too so as not to miss anything that I produce in between you can find me lurking over HERE:
Cam Shy…
I am contemplating trying to get myself reacquainted with being in front of my camera so that I can provide more content i.e. videos and even more selfies. My main goal is to do something like a write-with-me shared screen with me on webcam and a live stream on YouTube one day where people (like you I hope!) can sit and chat with me while I get some writing done, maybe poetry to being with.. .I really need to get back into that kind of wordage. ANYWAY WATCH THIS SPACE as I am sick and tired of looking like and feeling like a fucking TURNIP every time I see my face or my mouth speaking on webcam. This is where I am trying to redirect my online life towards as an end goal for the time being as I navigate this Creative Junction. My main baby is and always will be writing. I refuse to say that I have writer’s block because I haven’t I have something more like a writer’s toll station. I need to pay my way to get through but my documents just don’t seem to be passing all the necessary (self administered) checks. I will get there in the end and somewhere tucked under the driver’s seat will be a poetry passport too…. even if it’s just a short term VISA. Lights are RED right now. x
Routine Message to My Chasers (includes A Poem)
Quick check in chat to you which was cut short by my dog being restless and needing to be taken out for a wee. The poem I read is called Weep by Charles Bukowski xx