FREDRIK SCHEIKE

Då jag inte är enbart är en nörd som pluggar filosofi och andra konstigheter, läser jag ibland andra saker som inte är Sartre också. Jag satte faktiskt tänderna (all puns intended) i den klassiska "Dracula" direkt efteråt, och hoppar mellan tre fyra böcker samtidigt. Fack- och skönlitteratur samt poesi. Allt i en salig blandning. Ett hopp ifrån Bram Stoker tog mig till Petter Stordalens "Äntligen vardag", eller för att parafrasera, "Hur jag slutade oroa mig om klassamhället och blev platoniskt förälskad i en miljardär."

By http://www.mollat.com/livres/jean-paul-sartre-la-nausee-9782070257539.aspx, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15547892 Jag är i slutet på "Nausea"  eller "Äcklet" som den heter på svenska, av Jean-Paul Sartre, och med slutet menar jag att jag inte ens har 12 sidor kvar. Det har inte varit en lätt läsning och många moment har kommit i vägen för att kunna avsluta boken, men innan veckan är slut är jag klar. 

I guess I have a very disparate mind. I can get ideas, start writing, get to thinking and just go on in that moment, but later when I come back to something it's incredibly hard to get back into that same mindset that put those words on paper/on screen in the first place. I'm not a writer, that's for sure, I enjoy when I can take my time and actually do it but I don't consider myself any type of writer. Mainly because I'm not pursuing it and also because I don't make it into the habit I wish it could be. I want to develop and I believe that at least in my poetry I've found something that I could classify as my style or my voice. Everchanging, bu with a typical stamp. I wish I had the consistency, because that's a huge part of it, the persistence and the know-how to pick up where I left off. To stick with an idea or a thought train and latch on to whatever made it appear in the first place. Maybe, it's just as easy as pushing yourself and practice...

I had a blog post, a long, well thought out, personal post brimming with "in-the-spur-of-the-moment" writing, that I wrote just a couple of weeks ago while on the bus while heading out to work. And as I opened up the draft on my computer just now, to correct and to actually publish. It all had disappeared and I have NO clue what it was actually about. The hint just being the somewhat ambiguous title "Reflections". I don't know what happened but I guess that somehow, the blogger-app on which I was writing was not connected to the internet when trying to upload and save the draft, so it just got lost in the eternal limbo in between. Typical. When I for once, sit down and have something to say and to write about, it just evaporates into the ether. Not that my semi-intelligent blurs on the blog is something that upholds world-peace or even affects a large number of people, but for some reason the loss of some intellectual property, something written and tho...