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  1.  (10352.1)
    Here is your judgement-free space to vent, rant, show-off, smug-it-up, scream silently into the face of Internet apathy, and generally trepan your pressurized consciousness after Another Tough Week.

    Instructions: Tell us about the last seven suns. Tell us what you hate, what you love, what's pissing you off. Tell us what's broken about the world, tell us what you want. Tell us how you plan to change everything, tell us what you're building in your basement, or, hell, just dance or play a tune.

    I, we, and all of us are here for you. Smash your wordvenom against us.
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011

    I had an honest-to-god panic attack yesterday. I did not want.

    We're hosting the Thanksgiving meal this year, and we're moving offices the day before.

    I think I'm reaching misery saturation, with regard to the news.

    That Kindle project I've been yapping about for months is nearing completion; the raw files are with our own T3xtur3 for perusal, and he's been good enough to favor us with a foreword. With any luck it'll be out by Christ's Mass.

    I'm reaching my limit. I'm stretched thin, and I don't know what's going to happen when things go "pop".
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    @ Horrible Warning Si: Thank you for the service my good man.

    A new week.Got me some killing to do.Got some heads to rip off and plough my stinking despair into as the shite of reality dares to interfere with my disturbed perverted and sick and awful and dangerous and nasty and smelly outlook on it all.

    Gonna kill any fooking midget that looks at me.On the phone to the woman trying to stop me from laying one on a twisted prison addict creep from Narcotics Anonymous.

    • CommentAuthorPooka
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    i found out my old chiropractor died in a hunting accident...that really sucks. He was one of the few doctors out there that was more concerned with helping people than he was making money. When ever I brought up the fact that I couldn't pay him, he always would say" Oh just work something out with the girls outside"...
    good man...good doctor...he helped us poor broke ass scholiosis riddled kentucky college kids..

    blerg...still haven't gotten my apology. my husband said that if my dj doesn't apologize to me soon, then he's done with him. geez...the drama...
    gonna do me some painting today. I've decided I'm gonna finish my decepticon painting and move on to an autobot symbol. My nerd friends want I guess it's turning out alright. We'll see what comes of it...i'll post pics when i'm done and you professional types can tear a new whole in my horrid little ego...or boost my silly self esteem up a bit..
    we'll see what's what.
      CommentAuthorAlan Tyson
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    Something strange happened in my left wrist last night, and it feels like one minute I didn't have carpal tunnel, the next minute I did. It's better this morning (thank you a thousand times, Glukkake, for that stretching video!) but it still feels tight and sore. I DID play a fast-paced video game for a while, but I've done that before and it's never gotten like this. I really, really would rather not have to go in and see the doc for this, but if it keeps up, I may have to.

    In the meantime, I'm gonna do the YMCA dance. It's helping.

    No, really.
  2.  (10352.6)

    Well it has been a long time, hasn't it? It has, there's no avoiding that, and I'm sorry that it has been so long. There have been some major changes in my life since my last open mic confessional. Right now I am sitting in a Cafe Nero on my Sunday-that's-really-a-Monday trying.

    The first major change is that I now have a girlfriend, a wonderfully smart & beautiful PhD student who provides me with literary and cultural studies books to read and talks to me about time and museums. We've been together properly since the start of October, but as with most good things in my life the chronology is wibbly wobbly and not at all clear. For sure, September was an interesting month for the two of us with her travelling to Sweden for an academic conference for a week and both of us not quite sure what was happening. She's called Jenny, and Sneak046 met her last Saturday in Nottingham's The Old Salutation. (Also in Page 45 completely by accident when Sneak recognized me from behind because of my hair.)

    Since September, and the publication of a short story in Flurb, I've also had a pretty horrific case of writer's block. This isn't related to Jenny, she's helped magnificently and put up with hours of complaining, and isn't really related to the brief job I held in September, although the tiredness associated with the job weren't . (I walked around the suburbs of a local town knocking on doors and asking people how they travelled. There are anecdotes from that job, but not many.) No, the writer's block hasn't really been writer's block. It's been a lack of confidence and poor time management. It's only today that I'm getting to even write a confessional piece because I worked yesterday and I've made the effort to head into town early before meeting Jenny. She should be here soon. Let's hope she'll buy me another cup of coffee before we head back to here for dinner and Napalm Death.

    The second major change is that I have a more permanent job. It is only temporary until February, unless a permanent contract is offered, and because the company I'm working for is reasonably smart I've signed bits of paper that mean I can't talk about the specifics of what I do. The work is clerical in nature and involves sitting in front of a computer for eight hours a day, but really it feels as if I'm inside a Victorian prison cranking a handle whose only function is to slowly increment numbers displayed by a pointlessly heavy clockwork mechanism. This isn't a job that's enjoyed. You tolerate it and you numb yourself for the eight hours a day when all you can think about it turning the handle. Afterwards you do other things, almost anything, to avoid the hours you need to sleep so you can spend eight hours at mechanism for a wage.

    It is a job so repetitive that it intrudes into your liminal sleep dreams. One Saturday morning I half woke up in Jenny's bed very confused and utterly convinced I was still doing the previous day's work. I managed to convinced myself everything was better by rolling over to face a sleeping Jenny and wake her with a kiss to the forehead.

    So I still have writers block. Well something approximating it. Friends keep telling me I can write and that I shouldn't be afraid. I've just spent the last half hour or so tapping this out into my netbook while listening to David Bowie's Heroes. Maybe it is all in my head, a few months of poor time management and adapting to new circumstances that's just a passing phase. I don't know what's causing the readjustment back to feeling more linguistically limber. In the past couple of months stacks of literary theory have grown around my house. (I like bits of Marxist, Post-Modernism, Post-Structuralist and Genette's Narrotology. I like how they can contradict each other and still say interesting things. I outright out hate Psychoanalysis.) This reading has had mixed effects: it did contribute to my crippling self-doubt but at the same time it has given that doubt a more nuanced vocabulary. I now read/write with more awareness, and I know there is a major contradicting statement in this paragraph. A post-structuralist might suggest that this demonstrates the unconscious uncertainty of the text's position on the author's writer's block being fixed. I am aware that it is certainly unintended, but I am deciding to let it stay because I am uncertain. I don't see what the issue is and that maybe, just maybe, taking the time to write this reacquaintance with the best damn community on the Internet has proved more than helpful.

    (I don't hate each sentence I've written or think it's absolutely illiterate garbage. Although I'm sure there are many goofs contained within what is effectively a zero draft written by someone who pretty much failed their GCSE English.)

    I have just received a text message from Jenny. She's just leaving her office at the top of New Walk and is heading down into the centre of town to meet me where I'm sitting now. I think after she arrives I'll take her to see the Alice in Wonderland Christmas display in the square outside the town hall. I must be finished writing this. Yeah, I think I've finished.

    Oh wait, here she is now with a bag of books and smiles. :)

    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    I'm still feeling like I need to take this weight loss thing seriously and really work on my self-control. Last week I hit a weight point that I've been trying to get back to for three months and...I lost it by ordering some food on Saturday and splurging on a few other things. It's not TOO big a deal, but I just wish that I was able to keep up the good habits I have on weekdays and take them right through to the weekend. It really sucks getting to a good point and then going back to square one.
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    I ... I don't usually do this.

    I don't usually open up, and I don't usually tell this kind of a story. But it's to the credit of Whitechapel that I feel this is a judgement-free space that I can spout and vent and yes all that.

    I have been feeling just so. Submerged. For weeks - really, a few months, now.

    Again, I never like to talk like this, and I don't like looking up and seeing sentences beginning with I.

    I asked a little while ago in the Can Haz Help thread about disaffection with the city where I live. That's one thing. Because I have made an effort - gone to comics gatherings, walked out in the woods, been to parties - and those things are great but you know it still gets on top of me. It's a kind of a claustrophobia, I think. It's like being here, I'm sort of aware of everyone who's around me. I know everyone gets to work on the tube and everyone hates it and all the rest, but just because other people put up with things doesn't always mean I can.

    My job is turning out quite stressful. I don't know if it is a stressful job, objectively. I don't save people's lives, I don't lock up bad men who hurt people, I don't really do anything that's massively of value to the nation, but there's always another bunch of emails asking for things I haven't had time to do, and yes, I do waste some of my time at work chatting or drinking tea or checking Twitter, but most of the time I'm trying to do my best and I just can't do everything these people want.

    And, in what I can only regard as a completely stupid self-smashingly masochistic manoeuvre, I have started a post-graduate degree part-time. It's in a subject I am completely interested in, an area I would happily read and write and think about with no compulsion, but now that I have tasks and objects and deadlines to meet, it's something I want to avoid. It's a stupid, self-defeating mechanism that seems to go beyond even simple procrastination into active self-sabotage. I can't understand why I can't make myself work harder and why I used to be able to do this and now I can't.

    I get to the end of a working day and all I want to do is sit down and fall asleep for so long that I can forget about work and then I wake up and go back there.

    I have had trouble getting to sleep. I wake up early and can't get back to sleep. I have been drinking way more than I ever used to. I have had days where I've not even got out of bed. I just don't know what's going on and why I can't get myself together.

    So that's my massively self-indulgent rant and whinge. Look - I don't expect lots of responses because I know lots of people have lots more problems than I do right now. I'm employed, I'm studying something I'm into, I've even starting seeing a girl for Pete's sakes. I just can't figure out why none of this is making me feel happy.
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    @Osmosis--not a damn thing wrong with feeling overwhelmed, man. You did the right thing by taking the initiative and speaking on it.

    I don't have much advice--please to see my post above for evidence on how well I cope--but sticking with each other is Whitechapel business.

    We're here.
      CommentAuthorAlan Tyson
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011 edited


    I've known that feeling before, man. I don't exactly have good advice for it - I've been very lucky in that, whenever I've lost connection with the earth under my feet, I've been able to move on. Something that helps me, though, is to take little trips, even if it's just to a part of town you've never been before, even if it's not "your part of town." Newness is a cure for a lot of problems, and the only cure for what it sounds like you've got.
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    @Osmosis, oof.

    Also, and PLEASE tell me if I'm overstepping boundaries here, but what you're describing sounds eerily like depression. Now, I think that's understandable given all the stress you're under, but the consistently feeling overwhelmed/disaffected, stressed out is a classic symptom, and waking up early and not being able to get back to sleep is a textbook symptom of what's referred to as Major Depressive Disorder. I know because my shrink a few years back told me the same thing about my waking up early ALL THE TIME (which was SO VERY ANNOYING I could not STAND it!).

    I mean, this may be welcome/unwelcome, news/not news, but take care of yourself. Also: take lots of vitamins (esp. vitamin D and all the B vitamins and iron), go for brief walks in the sun, make lists of tasks you personally need to accomplish, etc. Set small goals for yourself that are doable. It sounds like a lot, and it can feel like a lot, but it helps me feel like I have my shit in order.

    Sometimes, yes, a change of scene is the most helpful thing you can do for yourself. However, just taking time to deal can also help you feel like your situation is less wildly out of control.

    Hugs and a half, duder. Hugs and a half.
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    Sick. Horribly, horribly sick. Sinus infection, probably; I've been barely able to talk for 3 days now. I've had a day off today, so I've been selling books and DVDs to stave off a negative bank balance, watching Stephen Fry in America on Netflix (and being disappointed by how little screen time Tennessee gets; we're more than bluegrass jams and studies of human decomposition, damn it) and trying not to eat everything in the house, out of boredom. Sadness and frustration have become secondary to trying to just function properly. Well, still frustrated. Can't even pick up the trash around the house, I'm so tired.
    Not much to talk about today. Looking forward to seeing my family on Thanksgiving, even though this time of year and the fact that we meet at my late grandmother's house make me sad. I miss my grandmother a great deal.

    I wish you all well. I'm certainly guilty of feeling like my problems aren't worth mentioning, but every time I see ya'll say something like that, I just want to hug you and tell you that you matter. So, you know... you do matter.
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    Shut up, Britt (by which I guess I mean the opposite because I'm about to tell you your problems matter).

    Your problems matter.

    (Yeah I don't know where else I was going with that. But seriously. See above)
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    :P (Thank you.)
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    I was suuuuuuuuper cranky after work yesterday. I am not used to three days of polite smiling in a row, not at all. But, I cleaned the fuck out of my apartment, had sex, finished a book, ate all the stuff that was threatening to go bad in the fridge, took multiple over-long showers, and got a sweet pinball game on the smartphone I am not planning on keeping. So that was good.

    Imminent laptop death is less-good. I've had this thing for five years, and while you might think that's just about long enough for a low-quality piece of electronics, I must remind you all that I am a Luddite of the first order and that nothing must ever be thrown out ever if it is in any kind of working condition. So... I drilled out the stripped screw that's been holding the base plate on for the past year, cleaned a dryer's worth of lint out of the fan, and am now thinking about finding a replacement fan and maybe redoing the wiring to it. I think also I need more memory.
    My best friend went and got herself a Macbook Pro last week. I hate her I hate her I hate her, and I'm going to take her old laptop. It, too, is nearing death. Maybe I can work some Frankenstein shit and get myself in order. First, though, I have to deal with the ever-pressing new-cell-provider-only-has-$150-and-up-phones-that-I-hate problem. And the barely-fixed bicycle. And ... hrm. At least the shower still works.
      CommentAuthorAlan Tyson
    • CommentTimeNov 21st 2011
    @allana: I've known people who kept their old, crappy PCs running seven years or more, just by switching out shiny bits every couple of months. It'd definitely possible, and if you don't have any need of high-end capabilities, and depending on where you're getting your parts, it can be fairly cost effective. There is a way!
      CommentAuthorCameron C.
    • CommentTimeNov 22nd 2011 edited
    [01] I've started taking preorders for my silly comic now: and despite having prior history to look at it still surprises me that people (Especially returning customers) are interested and, even, seem enthusiastic about it. I'm working on a dedicated site for my Scrambled Circuits comics, away from the few (Hopefully not as few this year) non-SC comics I do. The site, basically, would just have every SC story put up there free to read in either issue format or chronological format. And, eventually, it will be a huge, sweeping comic story that will be awesome and stuffs.

    [02] I think I really want a Kindle Fire. My work will have them for sale starting Black Friday. If they are on sale I will buy one (Cause I get my employee discount on top of even sales prices) otherwise I'll wait for another check or two to come my way.

    [03] About three nights ago I came home from work and my brothers car wasnt in the back of the apartment but when I was going up the stairs I saw his light was on. I asked him where his car was. He was on the phone to our mother. He was in an accident on the way to his work. Three cars involved, no person injured seriously.

    This is his car now, back at our apartment:
  3.  (10352.18)
    On my third day without a smoke. Deep breathing helps immensely when the cravings get bad.
  4.  (10352.19)
    So, I got told by the judge that my reasons for a divorce were not adequate. First time ex-to-be's lawyer had seen such a rejection in 15 years. Which is such an honour, really.

    (Those grounds were: Neglect of the relationship, no sex in over 2 years, her being out of the fucking country 15 months of the last 3 years, trying to forcibly convert me to her new religion.)

    Hoping a more detailed version will pass...
  5.  (10352.20)
    How the hell do those not add up to 'irreconcilable differences?'