Knives and other sharp instruments

Have you ever been lying in bed trying to sleep but unable to because of dark thoughts? What is worse is that often dark thoughts like these are not thoughts at all, but rather just a feeling (so not allowing one to approach it rationally).

There are, of course, occasions when they are dark thoughts. This is when sleep is required the most, but cannot be achieved (oh, the torment). One of the worst instances of this that I can recall was when I had vision of cutting myself with a sharp instrument. Please do not be alarmed (I wish someone had said this to me at the time).

I just lay there with the image of a knife slicing across my wrist, but before the blood poured out I would shake my head and the image was temporarily removed. Minutes later it returned. The image was so strong that I had to stick my head of the window for air as I thought I would be sick. The worst part of it was that I needed the toilet, but was too afraid to enter the bathroom in case I encountered a razor. This meant having to go to the downstairs toilet, which really bothered me as I hate to walk down stairs in the dark (and do not like this toilet).

Fortunately, the trauma of having to walk down the stairs was such an interruption to the thoughts I was having about knives that I was able to fall asleep shortly after returning to bed.

Unfortunately, the same thoughts returned to me the next day, but that is the way life goes.

(At least I came to the realisation that there is a difference between real life and fantasy, albeit it an often indiscernible one).

The Gadget Obsessive

It cannot be denied that there are occasions in life when a gadget of some sort is appealing, and can be useful (a memory stick, for example). However, I would say that generally I do not like gadgets. The gadget often creates the solution to a problem that did not exist before the gadget came into being, or else the gadget woos with its ‘state of the art’ looks and functions.

What is worse than the gadget itself is the gadget obsessive. These people lack such imagination that they must fill these voids with toys that give them a sense of fulfilment. This is, however, short-lived, and a new gadget is soon needed to fill that hunger-gap. The gadget is bought in the name of the ‘new’, but is actually the act of rejecting the new.

These obsessives also like to inform those around them of their new gadgets, giving demonstrations where possible – a tedious time for the person having to feign interest.

My Will

In the event of my death I would like people to pay attention to my abhorrence towards my body being placed in an expensive coffin. I would like whoever deals with this to place me in cardboard, or something similar – something with the least wastage and least expense. Do not put any of my clothes on my dead body.

In the event of my death I would like it to be acknowledged that any ‘in memorandum’ written for me is something I would not approve of. If one wishes to remember me, please do so, but do this using your own memories and thoughts of me, rather than gaining recognition from others for doing so.

In the event of my death I would like all of my possessions to be sold or go to charity, except any items family or friends wish to keep (without sentiment). Unwanted books are to be donated to libraries.

In the event of my death I would like all to know that any false ceremony (which is all ceremony) is not a response I would welcome.

In the event of my death I would like any useful body parts to be taken. My hair can be sold.

In the event of my death I would like any work I have done to be destroyed. This is not an self-congratulatory act that compares me to, say, Kafka. Rather, the destruction of any work is because of the mediocre quality. The exception to this rule would be any emails that people want to keep (as I am often told they are quite good).

In the event of my death I would like the person that killed me (if I was killed by someone) to not be blamed or punished (this has got nothing to do with Christianity).

In the event of my death I would like the person/s that killed me (if I was killed by a company or by the government) to be blamed and punished, without reserve.

The living dead and the dead living

It is true that I have always been afraid (or at least wary) of clowns. I have also never felt at ease with china dolls. When one considers the two, one can see that both the clown and the china doll actually have similar features. Both are unpleasant and can be used to scare and intimidate . I would say that the difference between them lies in their personalities, yet both personalities cause alarm.

The clown, with his crazy face and oversized and over-coloured clothes, acts with frightful enthusiasm and silliness. He also always wants to act with an element of surprise - the only result being intense fear and panic on the surprised. No-one likes surprises. The clown is never still in the presence of another human, heightening our sense of panic. I don't think horror films that have clowns in them began this fear - clowns were always to be afraid of (and always wanted to be).

The china doll also has a madness in her face and wears clothes that give it a ghost-like image. Her face has similar painting to the clowns, though slightly shinier. Her eyelids can move up and down (and we are always waiting for them to flicker). The clothes are from strange periods in history, ranging from what looks like the early eighteenth to the late nineteenth century, and always from the upper-middle classes. There is always a feeling of her coming back from the past. Or being dead, but never having died. Either way she is never from our age and is therefore always judging our present age. She has a stillness that makes us quiver. My great aunt used to have lots of china dolls in her house (only great aunts do) - at any moment they could have come alive (at night they surely did). The gaze is cold and dead, which is how you will end up if one of these dolls gets their way.

The clown intimidates with his chaotic personality, the china doll with her cool, watchful personality. Both have some kind of angry mental disorder and are truly psychotic. As an informed man once said to me, "they [clowns and china dolls] are two sides of the same coin." The clown should be dead yet is alive, and the china doll is dead but should be alive. The clown is the appalling reality of an inanimate thing come to life, the doll the appalling reality of the living thing petrified. That is enough to frighten the toughest of humans.

My relationship to nature is at a distance

My relationship to nature is at a distance, particuarly with things that grow, such as plants.

I have never felt at one with nature. What's more, I do not think this is ever possible. I think, in fact, that I fear nature, or, rather, the possibility of contact with nature (even though I believe this is never possible). Perhaps it is also because I live in the city. In the city there are some trees, parks, flower-beds (usually cordoned off to prevent contact with the public), but generally there is a lack of nature, and an overabundance of concrete. this may be a contributing factor to my inability to relate to nature. I cannot touch an insect, I cannot sit on the grass, I cannot have trees towering over me. I can't even pick up a leaf. This is a sickness of modern times that I am unwilling to try to cure (an altogether other sickness). At the same time, I would say that those who believe that they have crossed the boundary line of the natural world are deluded, and slightly arrogant.

One of the most uncomfortable things I have ever seen is an advert for a moisturizing cream, which took as its subject a dry autumn leaf, and 'cured' this by putting the said moisturizer on it. The image on screen was then one of a very soft leaf that still had youth on its side

When it comes to rocks I am also fearful. They are so strong and sturdy, that even the strongest waves smack against them without causing the slightest damage. Who could stand up to that? Not that I long for a confrontation with the rock - I just don't want to get involved.

The expression of someone being a "rock" is meant to be one that is applied to a person who is strong during difficulties, doesn't weep during another's sad time but lets waves of tears of the other crash against them. What about the cold, unmoving, unaffected side of the "rock"? This is the problem when humans try to apply nature to themselves - all kinds of difficulties arise.

The fear of the sea is so obvious there is no point in discussing it.