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Tati’s Journey Part 9: Our Favourite Deluded Luvvie Returns
Written by Tati
Hello sausages, I’m back. After my lovely (two week) sabbatical in Italy getting those creative juices flowing, catching ducklings etc etc I have returned to the little media storm I’ve been creating. So all the dear people I’ve emailed about my work and how great I am have had quite some time to reply now saying I’m what they’ve been waiting for their whole lives etc and would I like these thousands of pounds for being so fabulous etc how about some free swag etc. I have a small handful of replies during this connection-making journey I’ve been on, and many of them are from Rosie. The Vagenda got back to me, which was nice because I don’t think I could have stood the shame, rejection and loneliness if they hadn’t. I love that blog. As I already mentioned, The Young Creatives got back to me too, so I sent them my profile, and I got an email from a nice man who bought my album. All in all I think I’m probably marked as spam in a lot of people’s email boxes now, but hey ho… win some, lose some. Shall I keep trying? Vote in and let us know.
I also looked up a gazillion songwriting competitions today. Did you know how cheeky songwriting competitions are? They are super expensive!! I guess it makes sense, what with some of them having massive cash prizes and all, but that just means even the ones without the massive cash prizes get to be expensive too, because it’s the norm! I am disappointed by this, and feel personally offended as it’s just another way the world tells me it really isn’t fussed over what I’m doing. I’ve just realised I have a cut in the corner of my mouth, which adds a whole new level of tragedy to the situation (don’t even think about rolling your eyes, we all know how distressing mouth-cuts are).
As far as my afore-mentioned juices are concerned, I’m still finding it almost impossible to write songs. Everything seems to come out super-trite, I may as well start writing about the rain in my heart and how I lurved him but he done me wrong. Secret proceedings involving Rosie’s GCSE English coping strategy and a boat are going well, but these proceedings are but castles in the air. Actually this morning over breakfast I read an article that said successful people are generally the ones well practiced in deluding themselves as to how great they are. And we all know that I am totally super awesome, so it seems whether or not I’m imagining that, I’m probably going to be very successful and not have to live in a box on the street. Brilliant.
Okay we’re meandering here. I have a month left of Abubilla-time before I am dragged back to Bristol by the fiery hounds of hell and also compositional duties. I have two mini-breaks to get through and a week with the New Zealand branch of my family doing bonding exercises, who are arriving tonight. Mother Kalveks says of course no one will disturb me when I’m trying to do my hours for the day… a likely story. I anticipate no longer being able to go to bed at 9:30. I suppose I should be toughening up anyway for when I go back to uni and everyone tries to compel me to have ‘fun’. On the plus side, my mysterious and inconvenient illness has been figured out so now I can do things to stop feeling ill instead of curling up under my bed for a few days every time I get nauseous.
So really I need to come up with a new, improved plan based on what I think has and hasn’t worked about what I’ve been doing for the past few weeks. But right now what I really need is to go to the loo.