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So you may not have heard, but I’ve just got a new job writing internet headlines.
It’s an under-appreciated art. Mark my words, in years to come all of the world’s most celebrated artists will be internet headline writers. Personal wealth will no longer be measured in pounds and dollars but in the number of clicks one’s links generate.
Recently, I performed the required yearly cleansing ritual on my car, in order that it may be presented without blemish upon the day of reckoning.
The following is a list of things I found inside its rusty innards whilst completing the rite:
Today boys and girls, we will be looking at the oft-misunderstood topic of joy. I hope to delight, inspire and enlighten you with a few little-known facts about the elusive concept:
Joy spelled backwards is yoj.
In this comfortingly weird corner of the Internet that I have fashioned for myself, I have always been wary of merely keeping a public journal.
I am more interested in surreal monologues on Scottish tennis players or absurd poetry about baked goods and American political leaders than in pouring out my heart or sharing my day-to-day mundanity for its own sake.
Lots of things are changing in my life right now. It is exciting, but it can get a little overwhelming.
I have found that, in these moments, it’s important to take some time to focus on those things that remain constant while everything around seems uncertain.
Momentum, or the lack thereof, is a powerful thing.
It’s the curse of the blank page – once you start eating into the word count and forming some paragraphs, momentum kicks in and it gets easier. It’s starting that’s the difficult part.
I love words.
For instance, the word ‘decant’ is particularly mellifluous. If you have the opportunity to use it and instead you choose its inferior cousin ‘pour’ then we may need to rethink our friendship.
Andy Murray is the Wimbledon champion. He is an Olympic gold medallist and the reigning US Open champion.
He is a hero. He is a fighter. A brave warrior returning with the spoils of war. A triumphant boxer with arms aloft. The victor astride his vanquished foe. He is Muhammad Ali. He is Obi-wan Kenobi. He is Joan of Arc and John McClane.
I don’t know if you have noticed, but everyone is engaged. No, literally everyone. I can barely get through a week of moderate Facebook use without being informed of yet another friend’s betrothal.
I’m not even using hyperbole for effect.*
Last week marked a year since I was last able to sing properly.
It has been far and away the most frustrating year of my life.