In one of the biggest shocks of the 21st Century thus far, the latest single from the Rolling Stones is quite good. It’s a proper crunchy blues-rocker with wiggly guitar lines and a strangely compelling vocal performance from Mick Jagger, like the exact midpoint between a croon and a squawk. How did these substance-addled geriatrics, so R-‘n’-f’n-R that they vocally defend their decision to charge £250 for a concert ticket, manage to produce anything of quality, let alone this rough-hewn gem? We’ll never know.
The song’s called “Doom and Gloom”:
Sittin’ in the dirt
Feelin’ kind of hurt
All I hear is doom and gloom
And all is darkness in my room
Through the light, your face I see
Baby take a chance
Baby won’t you dance with me
Doom and Gloom would be an exaggeration of how I’ve been these last few months, but I’ve done my share of feelin’ kind of hurt. As usual, it’s only from the hillside that you see the expanse of the valley: I’ve been pretty energised for a couple of weeks now, which are showing September and October up for the slumps they were. The wan, twentysomething graduate speaking in terms of uncertainty. Let’s not pretend there’s anything original here.
I had a couple job interviews which I invested far too much in emotionally. Never heard back from one, which only prolonged the maybe-if. Shame though; I kind of fancied being a local librarian. For now, I’m keeping the part time work and getting started on my Master’s applications. When my North American friends visit at new year, I’m going to take a couple weeks out for escapades, and afterwards I’m going to look for full time work – bar, shop, whatever – to shore me up financially for a while.
While I apply to postgraduate degrees, and send stories to magazines, and write letters, and brew beer, and cycle, and read, and riff. Maybe learn to drive at last. Maybe actually update my blog.
And I’ve started another book. I think it’s going to be a long-term project, this one. Lots of world creation to do. Lots of tangled webs.
You know, only some strands of a spider’s web are sticky: the crosspieces. The silken lines that extend from centre to edge, the radial lines, are smooth, and that’s how a spider can walk around its own web without getting stuck.
That’s the trick; walking on the radial lines.
See, if I get stuck, then I’ll only gather moss. And I’d rather not do that just yet. There’ll be time enough. For now, I’ll keep on skidding down those radial lines, if I can find ‘em. Like a freewheeling spider.
Like a rolling stone.