Time, you old gipsy
May. 31st, 2013 07:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
localfreakThere is a film I like called David and Lisa - it is a made-for-TV film from 1998 which I believe is actually a remake of a film from the 60s of the same title, but I've never seen the original. I've only watched David and Lisa about twice, the first time on telly on one of those random summer days when I was a moody adolescent moping about the house and avoiding the sunshine, the second when I bought a bargain-bin DVD of it from TJHughes. But I like it. It is set in an institude for mentally ill teens and the main character, David, has an obsession with time that translates into disturbingly murderous nightmares and an absolute issue with clocks, with time continuing. He works himself into a froth in the film talking about how one day he will build The Biggest Best Clock In The World that will record time absolutely one-hundred-percent and forever and ever, every tiny nanosecond tracked by his eyes, translated into perpetual-motion clockwork.
It is sometimes a tad disturbing QUITE how much I could easily fall into a similar obsession with time. Nanny and I both have it, I can't EVER be late (in fact I'll be an hour early, or two, than be late, and the slightest thing that could put me Off Schedule will result in my nervous stomach being its usual helpful self ("oh, you're worried about something? I'm sure D&V will help this out!").
Today, however, unlike the poem from which I quoted for my subject line ( by Ralph Hodgson) I certainly don't want time to put up his caravan and stick around. I am so glad that today is ending. My mood has been vile, work has been clouded by a fog of my own bad mood and when I got home it was to find Mum has recieved a note advising her that her last interview was unsucessful and so she is an miserable mood to and I am made more hopeless by my absolute impotence- what the fuck can I say? This stupid country, this stupid economic climate, the stupid people for not picking her. I can make suggestions but it is a poor sop and I hate, hate it. And of course my own private rants all day fuzzling up my ears make things all the more dreadful, all the less clear.
Jesu, juva let something come along to lift off this fog. Let something good come.
The house, at least, progresses. I shall be going there tomorrow to be put to work which I can do provided I am given simple directions and left to things. I have many things to do.
Also have a poem on commision and still have not written it. Made doubly difficult because I know the recipient dislikes end-rhyme, which for entertainment purposes is my stock-in-trade. Hmm.
It is sometimes a tad disturbing QUITE how much I could easily fall into a similar obsession with time. Nanny and I both have it, I can't EVER be late (in fact I'll be an hour early, or two, than be late, and the slightest thing that could put me Off Schedule will result in my nervous stomach being its usual helpful self ("oh, you're worried about something? I'm sure D&V will help this out!").
Today, however, unlike the poem from which I quoted for my subject line ( by Ralph Hodgson) I certainly don't want time to put up his caravan and stick around. I am so glad that today is ending. My mood has been vile, work has been clouded by a fog of my own bad mood and when I got home it was to find Mum has recieved a note advising her that her last interview was unsucessful and so she is an miserable mood to and I am made more hopeless by my absolute impotence- what the fuck can I say? This stupid country, this stupid economic climate, the stupid people for not picking her. I can make suggestions but it is a poor sop and I hate, hate it. And of course my own private rants all day fuzzling up my ears make things all the more dreadful, all the less clear.
Jesu, juva let something come along to lift off this fog. Let something good come.
The house, at least, progresses. I shall be going there tomorrow to be put to work which I can do provided I am given simple directions and left to things. I have many things to do.
Also have a poem on commision and still have not written it. Made doubly difficult because I know the recipient dislikes end-rhyme, which for entertainment purposes is my stock-in-trade. Hmm.
no subject
Date: 2013-06-01 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-06-02 06:45 am (UTC)