"Semantic Blockage"

So, just about a fortnight ago, I woke up angry for the first time in over a year.  It feels like weeks ago, even a month perhaps... really the weekend is the focus life in the Scholary, as I mean... what happens in the week in my unemployed existence?  Washing up?  Evensong?  Not even I want to think about that too much.

Things have been different.  Things have been better!  It's not as if I'm losing my temper and just flying off the handle all the time, as much as I'd dearly love to (it's too antisocial really), just keep it ticking over and have put a real concerted effort into not keeping other people happy at my expense, as easy as it is to pander to the wishes of others in the name of a quiet life (which is really what I'm after, of course).  It's kind of like learning to say "no" again.  Things like not keeping my hyperactivity in check and of all things, eating what I want to when I want to.  It's the simple things, eh?  My tea intake is slightly higher, so obviously the increase in tanin and caffeine has had a positive effect (nothing like giving in to your addictions, is there?), as has tricking my body into staying more or less the same regardless of what time I get to sleep due to keeping my window open (so I don't overheat during the night) and the curtains somewhat less than closed.  Bizarre perhaps, but as the weather is improving (and especially in the mornings), having sunlight stream through into the room is a rather fine way to wake up, don't you think?  I'm getting into the habit of opening the curtains as well, to welcome some light into this abode, and often stand with the back door open to get a fresh breeze through here as well.  I don't particularly enjoy living in a dingy shit hole regardless of the opinion of anybody else, so what I can do to change that for the best while I'm still here, I will.  

Also I have returned to what must be my dearest favourite composition that ever is in the world, Johannes Brahms' Ein Deutsches Requiem.  The sheer scale of it, the depth of texture, tonality and how the text, still from scripture yet not the usual Mass for the Dead, is so totally integral to its effect and affekt and just basically everything about it.  The supermassive D major fugue that closes the already gigantic third movement sat over a perpetual tonic pedal that almost derailed the first performance (surely the greatest three minutes of counterpoint ever?) to the huge C major fugue that is the meat and bread of the sixth movement that arrives after the gigantic phrygian passage, "Tod, wo ist dein stachel", the huge dread sarabande that is the second movement... When it comes down to it, Brahms actually is my favourite composer, yes Brahms!  He is my man!  The great Piano Quintet (because really there can only be one), Opus 34, was the soundtrack to my VIth form.  Obviously I need, in the most imperative sense imaginable, to find a Brahms Req to get involved in, and that soon.  I never have any time away from the stall, and really I can think of no better reason than this to do a runner from Truro (although to come back, naturally).

But like I said, things have been getting better.  Hurdles feel like they can be cleared: not so confidently that they seem to be as staples, but getting smaller every day.  I think that rising (or at least waking) early is a big part of this; I may still be getting up and filling the bowl up, but at least that part is finished by around 10am rather than 2pm.  The day still lies ahead of me.  Today, I handed in my first application for a full time job, as a "sales advisor" at a Music Shop, so hopes, prayers, hexes, blessings and crossed fingers for my favour if you will!  This is really something I want a lot, and if it comes off will go a long way towards sorting me out down here permanently.  As much as a tonal shift in my attitude as it is, being a lay vicar down here is really quite vocational when you look the financial state of the position.  Priorities must shift, inasmuch as they shift all the time, but not much is dearer to my heart than my post as Choral-Scholar-elect-of-Lay-Vicarship.  Well, except Brahms.  OBVIOUSLY.  

It feels like the stage is being cleared, ready to set up for the next big act.  Machinery behind the curtains is creaking away and well... something is happening!  Next thing you know, there'll be a woman!  HAHA GOT YOU THERE DIDN'T I.  IT WAS ALL GOING SO WELL AND THEN I HAD TO DO THAT.  Yeah, the thing about that... Always the master of self-diagnosis, I know that my number one problem is one that plagues me in all walks of life well two problems really: confidence and communication.  Some things are just so difficult all the time that you know I just need a bit of help.  I think my problems with communication are the real root: the last real symptom of being autistic that I still carry with me is my straight up flat out inability to really appreciate social boundary and what sort of language is appropriate in the right time and place.  Examples are just too numerous to mention, but sometimes I live my life in that horrid middle-of-nowhere-isn't-this-awkward place that usually develops when you try to say something clever but it's totally misjudged.  That is my life.  You know how awkward you feel when you're talking to an attractive person where you're kind of walking on eggshells so you can get them to entertain the idea of considering to have sex with you?  I'm rapidly running out of delicate language here, so you'll have to meet me halfway.  But straight up, you know what I mean.  I can sometimes arrive at that place way before I should and then what little confidence I have left is dried up like a potsherd.  I guess it'll come back though.  I mean, it kind of sort of worked twice in the recent past, (sort of a little bit not that long term commitment has been a success), so with any luck it'll work out again.  I mean hell!  Maybe I won't have to make the first move next time!  HAHA.

So after a healthy dose of self-deprecation, I turn once again to my place at the sink, to return the kitchen to a state approaching acceptable.  Oh.  And a cup of tea.  Don't forget to switch the lights off when you're done.