I'm not a writer! Who am I kidding? Not you obviously, because you are not reading this now! No, I am not a writer, I am a wasteroftimer. I spend so much time on Twitter all the words that I write should be squeezed up together like this with a hashtag thrown in as a free gift. I used to waste all my time on Facebook but after five years of that I went cold turkey and came away for a full calendar year. I'm sure that I could do the same thing with twitter but there is something especially satisfying about getting your thoughts and whinges out in 140 characters. It is so tempting to be verbose and long winded that twitter is the art of precis made more precise. As Mike and the Mechanics start to sing the 'Living Years' ont wireless as I write this, an apt descriptor of regret, I wonder why I waste such time on trivialities. I cannot be the only one! Perhaps you dear reader, dearest welsh shark lover, perhaps you are wincing and twinging at time wasted. "I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say" Well unfortunately in my week of anger last week I did get to tell him all the things I had to say and it wasn't pleasant. Not only am I not a writer, I am a coward, I had to wait until my father was nearly a hundred to tell him what I thought of him and the reason being, and I told him this as well, was that "I was too scared of him when I was younger". The old adage, 'some things are better left unsaid'....I don't know. It is borne of regret and frustration. I can try and frame it differently but as you know this week is Mental Health Awareness week. Last week was 'Angry as Fuck' week and as I described in my infamous Wenglish patois that depression is 'anger turned in on the self'. We are sad, yes, very sad but at some stage we have been angry, very angry. It might have been fleeting because anger is not to be encouraged. Aren't you surprised that there aren't more shows of public anger? We are a nation in passive aggressive lockdown. When repressed anger finally erupts it can have devastating consequences like the mass shootings in America. What are terrorist attacks but anger attacks? Islamic State are incredibly and quite rightly pissed with the West and the 'innocents' are being picked off with the tools of Capitalism. Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry! We are encouraged to talk about Mental Health to break the stigma but perhaps not so encouraged to talk about the causes of Mental Distress. Scientists in white coats and big pharma will tell you that its all in the genes. Blame your ancestors who were bed blocking the lunatic asylums of Victorian Britain. It's their fault that you are like you are and here take this pill to calm you down, to anaesthetise you and as soon as you feel better get down the Job Centre and avail yourself of the power career opportunities on offer. I've wasted your time here because you thought I was going to talk about not writing but I've gone and done a Ronnie Corbett and gone off on one of my tangents. I may not be a proper writer but DAMN I am a Mental Health activist. I can't stop talking and writing about it.
Language was the absolute key to all of this
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The fact is, the poet does not want admiration, he wants to be believed.
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Tuesday, 9 May 2017
AWasterofTimer
I'm not a writer! Who am I kidding? Not you obviously, because you are not reading this now! No, I am not a writer, I am a wasteroftimer. I spend so much time on Twitter all the words that I write should be squeezed up together like this with a hashtag thrown in as a free gift. I used to waste all my time on Facebook but after five years of that I went cold turkey and came away for a full calendar year. I'm sure that I could do the same thing with twitter but there is something especially satisfying about getting your thoughts and whinges out in 140 characters. It is so tempting to be verbose and long winded that twitter is the art of precis made more precise. As Mike and the Mechanics start to sing the 'Living Years' ont wireless as I write this, an apt descriptor of regret, I wonder why I waste such time on trivialities. I cannot be the only one! Perhaps you dear reader, dearest welsh shark lover, perhaps you are wincing and twinging at time wasted. "I didn't get to tell him all the things I had to say" Well unfortunately in my week of anger last week I did get to tell him all the things I had to say and it wasn't pleasant. Not only am I not a writer, I am a coward, I had to wait until my father was nearly a hundred to tell him what I thought of him and the reason being, and I told him this as well, was that "I was too scared of him when I was younger". The old adage, 'some things are better left unsaid'....I don't know. It is borne of regret and frustration. I can try and frame it differently but as you know this week is Mental Health Awareness week. Last week was 'Angry as Fuck' week and as I described in my infamous Wenglish patois that depression is 'anger turned in on the self'. We are sad, yes, very sad but at some stage we have been angry, very angry. It might have been fleeting because anger is not to be encouraged. Aren't you surprised that there aren't more shows of public anger? We are a nation in passive aggressive lockdown. When repressed anger finally erupts it can have devastating consequences like the mass shootings in America. What are terrorist attacks but anger attacks? Islamic State are incredibly and quite rightly pissed with the West and the 'innocents' are being picked off with the tools of Capitalism. Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry! We are encouraged to talk about Mental Health to break the stigma but perhaps not so encouraged to talk about the causes of Mental Distress. Scientists in white coats and big pharma will tell you that its all in the genes. Blame your ancestors who were bed blocking the lunatic asylums of Victorian Britain. It's their fault that you are like you are and here take this pill to calm you down, to anaesthetise you and as soon as you feel better get down the Job Centre and avail yourself of the power career opportunities on offer. I've wasted your time here because you thought I was going to talk about not writing but I've gone and done a Ronnie Corbett and gone off on one of my tangents. I may not be a proper writer but DAMN I am a Mental Health activist. I can't stop talking and writing about it.
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Neither in work nor looking for employment
"Hi I am Daf Williams and I am economically inactive." I feel that I am in some kind of group therapy where I have to admit my add...
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Bottom of the Ottoman
Bottom of the Ottoman from David Williams on Vimeo.
Crying in your Beer from David Williams on Vimeo.
Hitler navigates the A487 from Aberaeron to Aberystwyth
I shall never wear tweeds from David Williams on Vimeo.
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