hashtag awkward

I lie in bed and I think
I think about you
So I think about ALAN
Sometimes I think about cigarettes
I think about how I should quit smoking
But really all I think about is you
I think about wine

Maybe ALAN doesn’t smoke and doesn’t drink and is
ALAN drinks alone. And favours exhaling heated smokey breaths into cold night airs
Just like me
Just like you


Most of the posts I will write on this blog comes from notes I’ve typed quickly into my phone, scrawled on a scrap of paper, or whispered into my dictaphone whilst trying to get my baby to fall asleep (I have to lie next to him and hold him until his eyes close…)

I am not one for writing blogs, or posting much on the internet – which may seem strange given that my whole proposal is pretty much based on posting stuff online.  The last diary that I kept was destroyed (by me) a few years ago, when I found it and read what 12-year old me was like.  I didn’t want to remember – having successfully blocked so much of my childhood out of my memory, why relive the horrors of what it is to be a prepubescent girl in scrawly smudged handwriting? (I’m left-handed, and have a penchant for writing with black inky pens, hence every page I write is alliterated with a little finger print).

In my dreams I would hope this blog would turn into a  well written first person narrative, akin to Holden’s dramatic monologue in Catcher in the Rye,

but, alas, it will most probably turn out to be more Adrian Mole, or perhaps The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants.  Ahgh. Nonetheless, this site will serve as proof that I exist, and ALANsWorld.co.uk will prove that ALAN exists.  So I guess I have to get personal, if only so that I experience first-hand of what it is to exist, online.


I’m lying here and I think about the bed sheet that’s on the floor next to me – I could use it for ALANs 1st post (see Making ALAN)

The baby is still awake

I’m hungry


I need to wash up, I need to wash that bed sheet, shhh baby hush

Sometimes I just wish you were here

But you never will be, will you.

At least I have, all that I have.


So now, here I am, in the kitchen making dinner at 10pm, and have just come to the realisation that the potatoes vitally needed for the dish I am about to make have turned green.  I’m sure I have googled this before – they’ll be fine if I just get rid of the green bits, right?  I’m going to risk it. Peeler where art thou?  And so, I wonder, what would ALAN do?  What does ALAN eat?  It seems like to exist you have to eat, and fairly often, and therefore it makes sense that the average person that unconsciously documents their life online might post a photo of food every now and then.  Would it help to prove ALANs existence if ALAN posted a food photo?

So, dear reader, you may have possibly concluded that I am nothing more than a dirty tramp living in filth, surrounded by old bedsheets and living off rotten vegetables, thinking an awful lot but maybe not about anything that great or of any significant importance. Not to mention can someone make sure that baby is ok?!  I assure you he’s perfect.  I myself have had time to perfect my imperfections, but would you believe me if I said everything was great?  In my experience life is never always GREAT – it has good moments, yes, and mostly ok moments, and definitely bad moments, ALAN take note –

To exist everything can’t be perfect all the freakin time.

I guess this is a good time to think about a list I have been creating in my head of ‘Things ALAN is going to do / post’ – I really need to start writing things down so I will make a new page here.  Aptly titled, at least for now, What would ALAN do? This list is just a thread of ideas of the things I want to make.
Sometimes (A LOT of times) I think about the finished thing that I want to make / create and work backwards.  I think it’s because I have been conditioned by my job as a graphic designer – clients will tell you what the want, so you already know what your work will have to look like before you start it… however I hope I can ease out of this way of working towards something more, unexpected.

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