Authors note:
Most, but not all of what you see on here was written during the early stages of my development. There will no doubt be many incredulous pieces of writing. The important thing is that I'm aware of that and strive to improve as time progresses. My main purpose on this webiste, other than meeting like minded writers who are ambitious and want to develop their craft, is to develop my own so I welcome all those who have a keen interest in concisely refining the difficult craft of conveying meaning and feelings using words.
October 2008
"Words have the same quality as water: they go around rocks and adapt to the river bed, sometimes turning into a lake until the depression has filled up and they can continue their journey." [Paulo Coelho-Warrior of the Light]
Water dries up eventually, but when it does, all you need to do is dig a well in new places.
I support collaborative writing/Arts projects. I really enjoy them:
A new form of Collaboration is emerging here on the writers cafe, take a look and please, show us your support:
'The 'Archeology of Inspiration' project is alive. I have created a group to firmly explore the idea, please join it and show your support - it is such a morale boost to know people support our ideas:
A little brief bio about me:
I left school at Fifteen and Seven months. So, in July of the year 1998 I was unleashed on the world. Did I know what I wanted to be? No, I didn't. I was lost in heavy traffic - millions of people were rushing around, in different directions, while I stood and watched. Sometimes I stand still in the busy town center and just feel the buzz of life oozing passed me. I always imagine the day I left School. I say imagine because I cannot actually remember my last day, but I can imagine it would have been quite an anticlimactic end to a confused and unsuccessful education. I had various jobs afterwards, but paid little attention to anything and they were all short lived.
I needed something with structure, something that made sense, so I unwittingly chose the Armed forces to provide this. I wanted to feel proud of myself for something. I spent three years in the forces and left during 2004. I was quite successful, receiving my first ever serious award for being the 'Best Student' (Any other was for swimming a particular distance when I was a child). My pride never came. The whole experience was tarnished by people who hadn't worked anything serious out in their lives. They had no foundations in their hearts and it very nearly killed me, and a few others. I narrowly avoided being committed to a Psychiatric hospital.
After this career move I decided to go to college, hoping that I could re-build myself. Emotionally I was a broken child in a man's body. I avoided any help from the authorities but was desperate for it and every now and again I would go and see a doctor and breakdown. It would always be a new doctor. It was a cunning survival trick, but served to prolong my pain. I was incapable of love and knew this wasn't what I wanted. I needed love. I knew I loved love without any reason to know. It was innate and deeply sewn into me. I wanted to be happy, but the walls had been established for a very long time and I needed the courage and support to smash them down. Unfortunately I quickly became involved in what my mother called 'a bad crowd' and although my studying was not suffering, my heart was. My healing had been interrupted by people who had no intention to ever carry out the kind of work I was trying to do. It was this precarious state that encouraged me to accept a job I was offered and drop out. Being in education at the time I was offered the job seemed to excuse my lack of formal qualifications.
I was working for a software company as a Technician. It was a promising opportunity at the time. Back then I didn't realize that this would take me even further from myself. I traveled to America and across Europe alone and began to accept that I didn't know who I was. The traveling inspired me and I picked up my pen and wrote my first line sitting in a Hotel room. I was trying to take something back from the world. I had been carried by the current of the world and no-one stopped to consider me, but worst of all I never stopped to consider myself until that very moment. I am still at that company. It provided the support to take out a mortgage, to move in with my girlfriend, get a new car, it made it possible for me to feel some pride. But it never felt good. I never felt satisfied and suffered from my own reprisals. I would inflict punishment upon myself in the most cunning ways. I was destroying myself.
Through the turbulence I managed to believe enough in myself to produce a very incredulous port folio of writing work, wrote a letter and had an interview at a University. I was begging to be given a chance to learn how to write. In order to achieve this I was prepared to give up my career and home and with no savings, struggle through my rebuilding process, but this time with the company of my true self who has taken a battering over the years. It is thanks to friends on this website, one or two people in my life (the girl who has stayed with me throughout it all, a Psychotherapist and authors and musicians) that I have managed to catch a glimpse of myself. The only real burden of this experience is knowing how many of the people closest to me are still yet to make this progress.
I often allowed myself to take the back seat and be directed by absolutely anyone, but now I accept I have a duty to ensure I am not ignoring fundamental wrongs that further perpetuate the destruction of people and this planet.
Through my writing I hope to explore whatever I encounter, as well as drudge up from the past those things I have buried through sheer fear and shame. I hope to discover writers that add concrete to my foundations and then one day I hope to climb upon them, face the sky and shout with joy, for then I think I might truly be in love.
'The Last Fragments' are some old poems that have been linked to, either on other writers profiles or in groups and so I have left them where they are so as to not detract from other writers efforts. 'Human Writes' is my cathartic effort to continually capture your attention.
I have been here for a while, but almost everything I ever wrote was deleted on February 4th (A technical glitch or something). So, I have begun again, this time saving my work as I go along. What you see before you here is the emergence of a man who is only ever going to be: A human, a male, a grand son, a son, a brother, an uncle, a nephew, a cousin, a boyfriend/husband, a father, a writer, an Artist, an Intellectual, an entity.
I look forward to writing for anyone who may begin to read my words. 5th May 2008, 25 years old. Solst, aka Matthew.
Below are some experimental audio works. Please let me know what you think, it could make ALL the difference.
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