Virtual work therapy

I have that horrible sinking feeling. Not about myself, mind you. No, that feeling when you know something you are working on is destined to become a complete load of crap. A complete stinker. Really, really bad. Imagine bad, then think worse. So bad that you want to shout at the top of your voice "this is complete bollocks". But being the nice quiet lad that I am, I keep it inside and write it down here instead....I'M WORKING ON A COMPLETE LOAD OF BOLLOCKS! Now breathe.....

Feel better already.

Quick fire global commentary

The world sucks. Its official. Or so I'm told. More bombs. More robberies. More general shit permeating through our daily lives. More bullshit. More cynicism. More gloom. More doom. More money. More poverty. A lot more. More environmental meltdowns. More 'I don't give a toss about you' attitudes. And its only Monday.

The moment that never was

And never will be. At least not in this lifetime. So instead all I have are dreams that are never to be realised. But despite it all I'm still smiling.

Spring clean

It isn't spring and it isn't clean. But I hope you get my drift. Next step is to start writing things that make more sense, but that might be a step too far at this stage.

Strange days

I'm listening to the Cure, but I can't help feel upbeat. Not sure why. The weather sucks and it feels like Autumn already. But despite that the future looks bright, not orange, but just bright. And so another week begins.

Peering in through tinted glass

Change is afoot. Lots of change it seems. Where once I was in the midst, now I'm just another bystander, a member of that mass we casually call the general public. I briefly wonder what would I feel if I was still there. But the moment passes. Life moves on and there's no point looking back.

No comment

Exactly that.

Flash back

The little boys lies in bed grasping the covers around him. No I don't want to go to school. He repeats, again and again. His parents are surprisingly calm and gently try and coax him out. It will be fun, you will make lots of new friends. But the little boy seems quite resistant to their arguments.

Flash forward 30 years and the now not so little boy seems to be having the same feelings.

Tingles in me toes

I started rather late at this. Very late if I'm truthful. It passed my teenage years and just kept on going. So much so that I never thought it would stop. Or rather, I never thought it would start. But here I am. Sad, but smiling. Like the teenager standing at side of a school disco who has finally decided to let go of that wall. Amen.

Out of time

Unfortunately, unlike in the Stones song, time wasn't on my side. And so it ends again. To be filed in the drawer of those I'll never know what might have happened moments. But I still can't help but wonder......

Cryptology

What on earth does it mean? How can three paragraphs confuse me in this way? If I click reply what do I say? Only one way to find out.....

Bed, Bed, Bed

If I keep saying it maybe I will gather the strength to go to sleep.

A short reflection on Sweden

And off we golly well go
Originally uploaded by Random in Geneva.

Very flat. Lots of trees. Lots of green. Quite a few lakes. Lots of flags. Road signs painted with the national colours. And houses. A distinct lake of IKEA furniture. Quite a lot of blonde hair. But less than Denmark. Apparently. Very laid back. No sign of the Swedish chef. Pity. Nice beer. Full of stupid English tourists. Who can't navigate. The reality that Swedish meatballs taste much nicer when eaten outside a summer cottage. In the sunshine. Overlooking a lake. Much better than the IKEA restaurant. Nice people. Nice place. A nice weekend. Reflection ends.

The oddities of air travel

As the plane heads towards Munich I wait nervously for news of my connection. Will I sleep in my own bed or does another faceless hotel room await me. As we land several passengers rush to the door, all eager to get home tonight. I await my turn and put my future in the attendant's hands. Will it be thumbs up, yes you can go home, or thumbs down, a sentence with no chance of parole. A smile, yes, you are ok. In fact the very same plane will be taking you home. Relief. Part of me wants to ask why they couldn't have told me this before, but I resist the urge.

So then I disembark the plane, go down some stairs, get on a bus, drive to the terminal, go up some stairs, walk to the gate, go back down some stairs, get on another bus, head back to the same plane, walk up the same stairs and say hello again to the same attendant I saw only a few minutes ago. All to move 3 rows.