I’ve begun to think that my blog ought to really be turned into some kind of publication – I don’t earn money from writing and I ought to be. I know that some people resort to advertising, well, I believe that being paid to advertise anything comes with a lot of responsibility – and quite frankly I’m not the sort to research in any kind of necessary depth as to what I’d be endorsing. I like money but I don’t like the idea of influencing people who imitate me into accepting money for associating their name with businesses that they don’t know absolutely everything about.
Also in spite of the fact that I pay for WordPress, they lie about the amount of views my blog gets. So does YouTube. I know for example that the people at the job centre read my blog and yet pretend that I’m not being kept poor. As anyone that has known me can confirm, karma is very real. It takes it’s time. You reap what you sow.
My previous work advisor, in Brighton, (I’ve met two so far) was the most obvious stalker that I’ve ever met – I mean it usually takes me a lot longer to realise someone has been stalking me. The latest one was much more subtle and she tried to suggest that I should go to college to study film, perhaps hoping to rouse some kind of conflict or confrontation. She even gave me ideas for what I ought to be offended about “oh, you might be overqualified though”, well yeah, I have a degree in film. I’ve influenced film makers. But I wasn’t offended, and I was excited at the prospect of making new contacts. Contacts are so valuable.
Yesterday’s dinner was King Prawn noodles, in a mug. I don’t know if you know how depressing it is to invest once again in items to decorate a home but so many of my things have been stolen – even the storage company my mother chose seemed to have stolen a lot of belongings that they couldn’t begin to accurately value. I don’t pity people who steal from me, but then I really kind of do.
Today I’ve gotten 53 pages into a magazine on Homemaking. It’s really in part a photographic journal, I consider every photo in there an art piece.
When I was thirteen, I told a woman that became the headmistress of the closest that this World has to Hogwarts – “I want to be a journalist.”