lazygut - Tumblr blog

[lazygut]

w .    childactress​  as in  like ONE star can’t you see i’m TRYING?

❝     sooo…   write  some  more.     ❞          fade  in  on  mara  banks,   27,   confused     —     isn’t  everybody  as  good  at  speaking  as  she  is?     on  second,   indulgent  note,   no,   that’s  just  her.          ❝     i’ll  give  it  a  star  rating.     out  of  five,   y’know?     ❞

‘ i would’ve written good dialogue if i could write good dialogue. ’    and isn’t writing just lying to yourself over and over until you hit a word count? and then and then and then, except it’s all fiction? that’s like lying. that’s an excuse. i’m not good at writing my inner dialogue either.    ‘ i don’t think i want any rating, ’    i say.    ‘ that’ll give the bad dialogue more attention. i don’t think i want any attention to it. ’

[lazygut]

a flash piece i wrote came out this morning in here it’s This is a Grounding Technique and I’m v pleased😌💖

[lazygut]

something  else  was  her  christian  name ,    private  original  character  by  ciara

[lazygut]

[lazygut]

[lazygut]

w.    chopinsque  as in  mums in cahoots?​

“  sounds like something my mum used to say.  ”    it comes out more as a mumble than anything else, gaze drooping down to the ground momentarily, tracing the scuff marks on the tip of her boots.  she’s aware of the acute irony to be found in how her mother would push for politeness and then, in the next breath, rant and rave about the government or the neighbours or the trees in the garden, if it was a slow enough day.  it’s nothing more than an acceptable form of hypocrisy, she thinks, and she won’t involve herself in it.    “  i think you’re the first person to say that to me, y’know?  ”

‘ maybe our mums are mates. they could’ve gone to school together. ’    so  the  politeness  police  is  a  multi - mum  thing.  i  always  thought  the  phrasing  on  politeness  being  the  cornerstone  of  being  was  weird,  a  bit  stilted.  so  lives  the  legacy  in  the  polite  children’s  heads.    ‘ are you nice to service workers? i can take the advice back if you’re not. then politeness is the cornerstone of being. i can sell that then. ’

[lazygut]

all vik does is be insecure and lie lie lie

[lazygut]

the searcher, pt. 2.

dialogue prompts from the searcher by tana french.

people always believe the worst, whether there’s a reason or not.

don’t be believing everything anyone tells you.

i came looking for peace and quiet.

i’m taking what’s come to me, same as you.

you don’t strike me as the kind that scares easy.

i’m not scared. i don’t get involved in things.

didn’t hear you. i was thinking.

i like having someone to talk to from time to time.

if you don’t have a code, you’ve got nothing to hold you down.

i’m not a baby.

this isn’t going to have a happy ending.

i’m just sitting here enjoying the view.

i’m in a talking mood, not a fighting mood.

i wanted to see what would happen.

you just had a bad dream. it’s gone now.

you want me to stick around a while?

no bullshit this time.

i’m after answers, not trouble.

just get all the rest you need.

if you ever need a favor, you know where to come.

can i invite you to join us for dinner?

i’m pretty banged up, but i’ve taken worse.

all you can do is your best.

are you done doing stupid things yet?

wake me up if anything happens, even if it seems like nothing.

i don’t know your standards. i’d rather trust my own.

can i ask you to stick around a while?

i don’t take well to people trying to push me around.

you gonna tell me what happened?

you’re giving me the fidgets.

i was never much of a believer in exercise for its own sake. too lazy for that.

you’ve got a terrible habit of thinking the worst of people.

[lazygut]

ᶦᵗ'ˢ ʰᵉʳᵉᵈᶦᵗᵃʳʸ ` 𝑖 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 …

[lazygut]

i’m just saying but i’m so obsessed with vik already like i just keep thinking up new things i wanna write for/w her and.... <3 <3 <3 YESSS that’s exactly what i wanted. i’m so pleased i’m so pleased

[lazygut]

w .    distantsuns  as in  i’ll omit this part from my diary tonight

               ❝ You are OUT of your mind. ❞ Look, I’m a reasonable man, or at least, I think I am. I’m not quite sure who the fuck this bird thinks I am, though. First, the facts. It’s always good to start with the facts. I’m broke, down on my luck, and a second-year theatre student at uni who doesn’t know how to talk to people. Great combination. Second, I’ve just been making small talk with this girl— says she was close friends with Olivia, but funny how I never heard Olivia mention her, but girls are weird. And we’ve gotten into this heated debate over music— and see, that’s the one thing that really gets my blood boiling, properly, ‘cause no one talks shite about the Beatles and gets away with it. Not on my watch.                ❝ Y’know news reports don’t mean shite, like, anycunt can just print whatever the fuck they like and publish it. Just ‘cause it’s in the news or in a book doesn’t make it TRUE. ❞

‘ that’s why i said a heavy book. ’   it’s  hard  to  explain  how  i  got  caught  in  this.  like  it  would  be  a  task  to  explain  why  too.  

                                talking  gets  me  into  this.  it  gets  me  into  everything,  and,  truth  told,  there’s  not  enough  space  in  my  head  to  reserve  for  facts  or  genuine  hard  held  opinions  on  the  beatles.  most  things,  actually.  i  never  put  the  thought  in.  lies,  i  said,  is  a  song  by  the  beatles  when  he  had  said  something  about  liking  them.  that  it  is  my  favourite  song  by  the  beatles.  he  said,  that’s  not  a  beatles  song.  i  continued  on  as  if  i  could  name  any  beatles  song  other  than  hey  jude.  in  this  place,  for  no  reason  at  all,  i  am  the  self  proclaimed  mega  fan  that  knows  fuck  all  about  anything.   

                                ‘ like an encyclopaedia, ’   i  say,   ‘ like a really  . . .  trustworthy book. you know. really unlikely that it’s faked. something in the non-fiction section. i - i’d believe that. ’

[lazygut]

‘ do you think sometimes on weekends when it gets light you could swim there? maybe if the water was clear. ’

w .    @bundledmisery​​

[lazygut]

@chopinsque​    i’m not interested in being polite.

i’m  at  a  recital.  this  is  public  speaking.  there’s  crowds  of  eyes  watching  me  and  the  practised  speech  needs  to  run  its  course.  i  like  that  more  than  having  to  come  up  with  something  on  the  spot.  in  my  mother’s  voice,  i  say,   ‘ politeness is the cornerstone of being. ’   i  don’t  mean  it.  

                                i’m  not  at  a  recital.  there  is  maybe  one  pair  of  eyes  on  me.  this  is  called  a  conversation.  this  girl  is  called  alice  and  canned  responses  don’t  bode  well  because  i  can  never  expand  on  them.  my  straight  face  falls,  i  smile  and  it’s  out  of  nervousness.  it’s  polite.    ‘ or something  . . .  you don’t have to be polite. ’

[lazygut]

vik is very unsocialised and it shows 

[lazygut]

“i’m the main character” girl you’re the unreliable narrator

[lazygut]

@distantsuns​    what would it take for you to believe me?

‘ news report. ’   easy.  believing  is  a  fool’s  game.  stubbornness  lands  a  space  in  the  same  territory  but  being  stubborn  and  wrong  versus  stubborn  and  sceptical  but  non - committal  till  you  see  solid  facts  are  vastly  different  things.  you  look  like  an  annoying  cow  for  the  latter  but  the  long  run  feels  immediately  less  embarrassing  for  choosing  it.   

                ‘ or, ’   i  start  and  my  eyes  start  darting  around.  they  do  that.  that’s  what  being  knowledgably  sceptical  is,  right?  like...  looking  for  the truth?  eyes  darting,  never  resting  till  the  truth  is  uncovered.  proper sherlock  holmes  shit.  something  like  that.  not  just  the  thought  of  looking  someone  in  the  eye  for  too  long  making  my  skin  hot  and  my  whole  body  start  shaking  like  fuck  in  that  embarrassing  way  it  does.   ‘ or something in a book. something in like  . . .  a heavy book. i know news reports may not be accessible or realistic. ’   my  eyes  land  back  on  him.   ‘ and i don’t accept proof in pamphlets because i know people can just make a pamphlet and copy it at the library in like, what? an hour? that won’t fool anyone. ’

[lazygut]

ECTO AS IN EXTERNAL AS IN OUTSIDE MY HEAD (as in vik finds one person she likes and within a week makes them her entire brain since she seems totally absent of one [as in i wrote this a week ago when trying to work out who vik was and it led to this (as in enjoy reading if you’d like)])

my ectobrain has formed now. there was the brief thought of growing it on my arm like an ear, like an extra ear, like one that you’d cut off at the end. that idea seemed enough to settle qualms on whether it would be ecto enough. like external enough. like outside enough. like growing it inside wouldn’t work, i know that. not even if you removed it and kept the brain alive and well and fleshy and pink and functioning outside of the body it was grown in. it would cause too much of a kerfuffle. i know that for sure.

my ectobrain is called olivia. she’s 5’9 on a good day. she has an inner brain, like in her head, in her brain. like a brain, i mean. but she lets me borrow it. pick at it, i think some people say. all, let me pick your brain? whatever. she lets me.

like she’ll come with me to the bank, olivia, my ectobrain, and she’ll tell me how to use the cash machine. like when muscle memory fails and i try and put my card in the cash slot instead of the card slot, she’ll help me take out a twenty.

like sometimes we’ll go to mcdonalds (olivia says i like fast food sometimes, not much, just every so often) and she’ll help me order this or that (a burger or fries) and she reminds me i don’t like gherkins, which i didn’t know, so i take the gherkins off so i’m not disappointed when i get my food.

but sometimes i’ll go to tesco, like i’ll go to a shop, like without my ectobrain, like without olivia. like i’ll do that, and i’ll stand looking at the baskets deciding if i need one for this shop. like if i’ll be able to carry everything i need to buy in my arms or if i need a basket. i usually don’t end up picking one, and the absence of an answer is still sort of a decision, so that’s good. then i’ll go to the confectionary aisle and god i’ll stand there for hours. like i won’t be able to pick a thing without my ectobrain with me. like it’s too much. like i can’t handle that at all. like i literally don’t have a brain so how am i supposed to pick what snacks i want later when i don’t have a brain to tell me what i want now, even. like how does that work.

so like that’s hard. but it’s only sometimes. it’s not often. it’s just about as infrequent as me and my ectobrain getting mcdonalds because i only really like it sometimes, not much, just every so often. it’s only sometimes. usually i can pick my ectobrain. like i can pick at olivia. then i’ll usually buy salt and vinegar crisps and that’s because olivia says i like those all the time, so that’s good too.