So it turned out that I had one more blog left in me about who I am from my perspective. I may be other things to other people but that's not important for the purposes of this blog or perhaps any other part of my life. My relationship with myself is my own and my relationship with others is only half my business at the very most.
Some people can't stand the silence. These people must fill every breath of everyday with some sort of audible noise. Stories, opinions and observations. Mostly about what has happened in their own lives. After all, we are certainly all experts in ourselves, or so we like to think. I am not one a massive talker. I am for the most part a listener, an observer, a reflector.
Poet's are seen as truth sayers, observing their and collective reality and spitting it back out with words. These truths, or perhaps simply observations, are often about the ugly side of life. I would even go as far to say the ugly side of ugly. It is very easy to moan or criticise the mobile or static pinatas of the world. "America is Evil", "The weather is rubbish". Personally, I don't think I speak truth through my poetry as most of them have at least 2 points of view, neither of which are usually mine. As I mentioned in a previous blog a lot of my poetry comes through me not from me. I am often imitating others with my words and if I do use my own voice it is usually to ask a question.
Timing is everything. As a performer the delivery of a line at a certain time means the difference between applause and something that bores. I have, in many ways, been boring myself up until this point in my life. I've been waiting for the show to start. Lifting the curtain for a moment only to bring it back down.