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These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Almost not
Funny but when I'm reading Knausgaard I feel compelled to check his facts. To google names and places, check up on Wikipedia as if I was a cheap, dried up detective. Verify and then trust, not trust and verify, that's too difficult and asks too much. I need to see that piece of photography, understand something of that place, or that view, know a bit about the person, the train or the tram. Weigh things up and apply some grading to description and exaggeration because... I don't really know why. Do they really look like that? Why don't they appear as mad, awkward or manic as he says they are? I'm struggling to know what to take, what to believe in and what to keep because I can still understand and I accept, peacefully and happily that I don't belong to that world at all. Well almost not.
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