Crikey
So I finally shared the link to this blog on my facebook so friends and family could access it, if you're reading this that is probably how you found it. I have been putting off doing this for a very long time. Why I hear you ask? I'm not sure. I'm constantly told that I should want my work to be read, surely if I'm writing I want someone to read it. Perhaps I'm a little too attached to my own thoughts, but for a long time, putting my work OUT THERE was terrifying. I didn't want anyone to read anything I had to say. I'm really not that interesting.
But the other day I had 40 page views in one day. That's nuts. And I was actually glad.
First of all, thank you! If you read the other posts or just this one, welcome, I assume you must know me somehow and know you will be able to read my ramblings when we are not together. I don't know if that is a chore or a blessing?! You decide.
Secondly, I think I am okay with this. I think. My blog is generally music recommendations, currently a list of all the books I am reading and discussion of my Uni work. And occasionally, a rant about a social issue/lecture/discussion of my day. That kind of stuff. Not groundbreaking, but allows my mind to work better after I have started writing of a morning.
Thirdly, I hope you at least find something interesting! And I am now okay with you reading it. Welcome. This is my blog, these are my thoughts. Come in and settle down :)
Anyway, I finally watched The Wolf of Wall Street the other day. What a nuts film. Leonardo DiCaprio is an absolute master, that part was written for him. It was interesting for me to watch a film that ties in with my current reading so well. I'm almost half way through James Frey's A Million Little Pieces which deals with drugs, addiction, the destruction of life and all the rest. The film displays a much more glamorous version than the book, in which Frey throws up every morning at least twice, in detail. But both do display the reality of addiction, the blackouts, difficulty with social connections, the self-destruction of an addict. The film was gloriously shot and beautiful, the book is real (apparently, but that's another issue) and gritty. The novel is written in not quite full sentences which ramble on for lines. You get a true sense of the monotony of life, which the film displays in a much more glamorous way, probably due to the sheer quantity of money in the film versus Frey's life.
A fascinating film and a (so far) interesting read.
Must get back to work, today's soundtrack, a recommendation from a colleague: Hellogoodbye
But the other day I had 40 page views in one day. That's nuts. And I was actually glad.
First of all, thank you! If you read the other posts or just this one, welcome, I assume you must know me somehow and know you will be able to read my ramblings when we are not together. I don't know if that is a chore or a blessing?! You decide.
Secondly, I think I am okay with this. I think. My blog is generally music recommendations, currently a list of all the books I am reading and discussion of my Uni work. And occasionally, a rant about a social issue/lecture/discussion of my day. That kind of stuff. Not groundbreaking, but allows my mind to work better after I have started writing of a morning.
Thirdly, I hope you at least find something interesting! And I am now okay with you reading it. Welcome. This is my blog, these are my thoughts. Come in and settle down :)
Anyway, I finally watched The Wolf of Wall Street the other day. What a nuts film. Leonardo DiCaprio is an absolute master, that part was written for him. It was interesting for me to watch a film that ties in with my current reading so well. I'm almost half way through James Frey's A Million Little Pieces which deals with drugs, addiction, the destruction of life and all the rest. The film displays a much more glamorous version than the book, in which Frey throws up every morning at least twice, in detail. But both do display the reality of addiction, the blackouts, difficulty with social connections, the self-destruction of an addict. The film was gloriously shot and beautiful, the book is real (apparently, but that's another issue) and gritty. The novel is written in not quite full sentences which ramble on for lines. You get a true sense of the monotony of life, which the film displays in a much more glamorous way, probably due to the sheer quantity of money in the film versus Frey's life.
A fascinating film and a (so far) interesting read.
Must get back to work, today's soundtrack, a recommendation from a colleague: Hellogoodbye
Comments
Post a Comment