Saturday, October 18, 2014

Constructive criticism?
(begun Sunday 12th October at 5.40am)

Dragon's breath? Are you kidding me? I'm out here on the verandah, a few minutes off sunrise, and my breath is puffing out in a cloud, and yet it's surely way too warm for that phenomenon to occur? Was that a bank of genuine mist down in the valley ten minutes ago? I certainly caught no whiff of a bushdweller's campfire, so...? It looks set to climb up to the thirties today, so you'll forgive me for finding this odd. Such magic in the air...
Do his graduates regard him fondly as some sort of new Messiah for having taught them to employ the quantum laser technology to invade and control their neighbour's lives? Does he tell his Class to go out there and make a difference, and to have fun doing it? Pass the bucket if you would.
Do I sound bitter on this beautiful Sunday morning? A sense-of-humour failure perhaps? Would you care to share the pinch that kicked in to my lower back as I was sitting on the edge of my bed earlier?
How long has it taken the quantum laser elves to achieve that level of discomfort? To sit there and fire their weapons at that precise area repeatedly and with malice, to the extent that the simple tap of a key can now reduce me to a shuffling wreck? Pefecly safe, Francesco? Maybe in the right hands this could've turned things around for the better, but that was never the Project Planner's intention.

LATER Sunday at 7.50am.

Alas, I've just scuttled offline with my tail deservedly tucked between my legs.. There's nothing like a few home truths to put me in my place, hey Mistuh van Zyl? Did that Facebook Chat exchange absolutely make your day? Thunderous applause ringing through the Halls of the Wikked? You betcha.
I've always maintained that I stand on shaky ground, and the last half hour has certainly confirmed it, has it not?
Surrounded as I am by brainwashed quantum graduates for going on a decade, and subjected with others to the most appalling physical abuse, I was always bound to single out the handful I could trust and elevate them to ridiculous levels. The mark of a gibbering Idiot. Hyperbole? I'd kill to be able to write using McCormack's sparsely brutal prose, but instead I'm stuck with writing how I think, in wordy, florid, and ambiguously laboured spurts. Monologues that I now find have offended even the Seriously Good.
Shall I spend this lovely warm day wrapped in injured pride and self-pity, or should I regard that chat as the very first piece of constructive criticism I have ever been offered in all the years I've been yapping on the internet, and simply try to do better? I'm literally horrified to find that I've hurt someone who certainly didn't deserve it, but without any form of direction at all, odds are high that I'll do it again, albeit unwittingly.‪#‎gettingtheexcusesinearly‬.
Some kind spirit has just arrived as I sit here out in the morning breeze, and my self-loathing is already dissipating. I've no doubt I'll go back and reread those remarks occasionally and beat myself bloody all over again, but that's the nature of this beast. Collaborate? I had NO idea. A collaboration of which this Eejit was totally and utterly unaware..
The pain that had crippled me so viciously on rising, has been removed for the moment, and it's as if it never existed. Love me or loathe me, I stumble on.
Sunday 12th October 2014 at 8.47am