Monday, 17. December 2007, 08:41:56
christmas, wallpaper, customise, exgirlfriends
...
I felt an almost law-led urge to customise everything my eyes fixed on that could possibly be tweaked, in celebration of the upcoming Christmas period. Oh, and sorry to deviate for a sentence, but it's Christmas not "holiday". I'm not in the south of France, so it isn't a holiday. It's two days off work, if you're lucky.
But I digress. I shouted to myself that it's mandatory to change the iMac wallpaper, the phone's ringtone, and - of course - the blog theme. But I can't find a Christmas theme for the Opera blogging platform. So I picked this gamer one instead. It isn't totally unrelated, super mario defined many Christmas times for many people over many years. Ohhhh SNES, we love you.
I'm looking forward to Christmas this year, although in true me-style, I'm doing something a bit different and cringe-worthy. I'm spending the entire Christmas period at my ex-girlfriend's home up north.
Yep, those pixels you just read were interpreted perfectly.
Am I just a typical bloke?
Monday, 17. December 2007, 08:31:56
relentless, powerful
Tuesday, 4. December 2007, 17:55:16
health, infection, smoking, life
...
I have sat, walked, ran, shagged all whilst coughing my guts up this week. Officially diagnosed with a throat and chest as infected as a single character from 28 Weeks Later, every waking hour (and, I'm sure, some unwoken ones too) I am spluttering and yelping in harsh shooting pains.
Yet I continue to smoke, how ridiculous is that? Maybe it's because I know penicillin works so quickly for me, or maybe it's because I am mentally and/or physically addicted to nicotine.
I have before me a booklet on giving up with the NHS. Unfortunately, this is a prime example of my low latent inhibition (yep, that one from Prison Break). I can see through the "encouraging statements".. all seem ficticious to me. All seem exagerated to me. All seem so far in the future to me.
I can only consider the present in most cases, but the fact I'm bombarded with information about the future brings a misty cognitive dissonance.
What the heck, we only live once, right?
Saturday, 1. December 2007, 23:55:27
spain, life, sun, alcohol
...
The strobe-lighting, the euphoric music, the soul-gripping atmosphere of existence. All are felt intensely each and every time I visit my second home, Ibiza.
A collective group of individuals with a shared energy flowing through every pore in every limb. The feeling of flight as the classics come on. You relate different songs to different people, and times, of your life. Visiting Ibiza is like experiencing your entire life in one night, and every second feeling magical.
Two breeds appear at my Mecca; ones that aim to obliterate their insides with copious amounts of booze and walk struggle home sick, and the dedicated few who also consume copious bottles of cheap Spanish alcohol but fly home euphoric.
You can have a holiday and get pissed. Or you can have a mini-life on an island of smiling.
God I love smiling.
Saturday, 1. December 2007, 19:12:40
love, ex, relationships, wonder
...
Last weekend I spent 72 hours in the arms of my ex-girlfriend.
Whether that fact makes me regret us first splitting, or regret torturing myself with dreams that won't come true, isn't clear to me right now. As the saying goes, an ex is an ex for a reason. I begin to wonder if that reason is to tempt you to self destruction.
I've always been aware of the stark contrast in "sex life" and "love life". Love implies a relationship, sex life doesn't mind if you have someone or not. Sex life is the un-restraining parent, the one that lets you get pilled up and crash into strangers parties (niche or otherwise) "dancing" with all and sundry.
Women haven't often confused me, possibly for the sole reason that I don't blame women for a thing, ever. If anyone is confusing me, it's my own fickle emotional bucket of an ego - she is as innocent as she ever once was.
Love life = bad.
Sex life = 10/10
Wednesday, 5. September 2007, 00:04:24
moan, work, business, recruitment
...
I am unsure of the details of where and when the phenomenon started, all I know is whomever had the idea first needs an emergency castration. Scheduling a meeting at 8am on a Wednesday could possibly be the most annoying action created since the birth of capitalism.
It isn't enough to have the mid-week blues, the farthest point from each supportive weekend and rubbish television, but to add to that an earlier-than-usual rising from slumber, and the stress of pretending you didn't stay up on eBay until 3.30am, pushes me beyond all comprehensible limits.
Why? What is the benefit? I am beginning to wonder if it is to get it "out of the way", a neccessary inconvenience better done early so as to not bother with it further along the line.
Bloody recruitment agencies. Consultants? No, you are sales-people. Your 80% turnover should have told you that by now.
Tuesday, 4. September 2007, 20:23:40
panic, life, suicide, overdose
...
A few weeks ago now, an anonymous good friend of mine dialled my landline phone, quite desperately. She was blatantly distraught, I asked her to calm down slightly and explain to me what the hell is happening.
She spoke in a whispered tone, but fast enough so that I couldn't understand. The sound was almost like the hiss of the train you just missed whistling by. I could pick up every other word, but thankfully I heard the important ones, being morphine, self harm, and helpless.
I rushed round, ignoring traffic laws aswell as my own life. As I reached her, she was sitting slanted by the front door. I don't think I turned my engine off before launching over to the place where she lay.
She was conscious, and vaguely responsive. Her eyes diluted, and skin clammy. I checked for blue lips, and for chest pains - even without any first aid training in my life. Maybe a divine intervention?
I called an ambulance, almost frustrated that the first 20 seconds of the call you just listen to operators relay your number across the different posts. I do not care that Kempston is connecting Northampton with number 07... blah. What I do care about, however, is the paramedics getting here before the situation worsens.
I was finally priveledged enough to hear the words "on its way", as I hanged up and waited with her in my arms. It took roughly 6 minutes 23 seconds for the emergency services to arrive. And promptly drive past, as I ran screaming after it.
In that moment, I had a dilema. Leave her on the step and run after it, or stay put and ensure she is breathing. What would you do?
It drove past a total of three times, before landing before us. We ushered her in the vehicle, her brain hardly thinking. I remember thinking at that moment of the phrase "you do not know what you have, until you lose it".
Thank God she wasn't lost.
Monday, 3. September 2007, 20:48:58
story, phone, orange, attraction
...
I stepped in the Orange shop in Hitchin town centre, for no concsious reason that comes to mind. Thinking about it, it was probably because the girl working there had no one with her, and I wanted to see if her demeanour was as beautiful as her body looked from the distance of the shop window.
It was. Although a curious debilitation came across her once I spoke of my need for a Nokia N95. At this point she was either tripping over her words unintentionally, or clueless about mobile telephony. Something in me wants it to be the former, she was cute, tripping and all.
My battered, cheap, Motorola cut the conversation short - a phonecall interupting us (ironically). I flashed my eyes to hers, and said I'd be back later, and made sure she would still be there. She smiled, and simply nodded.
I'm still resisting the urge to hit myself, for I never did go back. Maybe in a few days, if she will even remember me.
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