Blog Archive — Page 57
This is part of my blog, which I have long since stopped maintaining. The page has been preserved in case its content is of any interest. Please go back to the homepage to see the current contents of this site.
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A Waking Dream, or Otherwise
Last night was… a little weird. I had a dream - a very long and, I think, important one. Then I dreamed that I woke up, wrote it all down, and went back to bed. There was another dream after that; which was about Lime, Elise, Stel and I in a Spanish seaside bar buying drinks with 5p coins.
Weird, yes. But I’m annoyed that I didn’t actually wake up to take notes on the first one…
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Smiling, Crying and Dreaming
A warning - each paragraph gets steadily geekier and more obscure than the last! =p
First off, I appear to have an Umbrella of Sunshine (+1?)… The only day this week that I left it at home, I got drenched. Monday and Wednesday were dry, and today was hot and sunny. I’ll keep taking my umbrella to work, I think - it might looks silly, but if it means the sun keeps shining, then it’s worth it! ^_^
Secondly, it may not have been wise to put any Guns ‘n’ Roses songs on my disc of music to listen to at work. For the reason that “Sweet Child of Mine” nearly brings me to tears… Damn my falling in love with fictional characters.
(Obscure? I did warn you. Only three people know what I’m talking about, I suspect, if even they haven’t forgotten =p)
Last but not least…
Book: $0.99. Shipping: $15. Gotta’ love eBay. Gotta’ love the weak dollar more - even including shipping, that means I’ve just bought seemingly the internet’s only for-sale copy of Changeling: The Dreaming for £9.52. A winner is me!
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Raining Again
It just doesn’t get any better, does it?
Half an hour’s walk in the cold rain.
20 minutes stuck at Wareham.
20 minutes going slowly due to signal problems.
10 minutes waiting for stuck doors to open at Poole.
Two armed policemen and one announcement later, we’re evacuating the train and the station.
Half an hour waiting for a bus next to smoking twelve-year-olds.
An hour’s crowded bus ride.
And a final fifteen minutes walk in the rain, still in just trousers and a shirt.
Oh, and I’m more broke than an extremely broke thing, too.
I need more cake.
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Signal to Noise Ratio
The overcast skies scatter the light, dampening out the scenery into shades of grey. The rushed half-hour walk to catch a cancelled train fills my mind with fuzzy interference. And on the train I eventually caught, the noise of wheels on tracks, the noise of the electronic announcements, the noise of shouting children and mumbling old men… They all blend together into a maelstrom of noise, blocking out the signal of thoughts from my head.
A few raindrops lightly touch the window through which I stare at a dull shadow of a world.
That damnable kid screams, time after time, always when I’m least prepared for it.
I’m going to be late again.
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When Someone Else's Sofa Starts to Feel like Home
…Well, not quite. It still feels like I’m imposing, sleeping on their sofa, but at least it’s Southampton - that’s a start.
Even though not a lot happened this weekend, it was really fun! I’m not sure quite what kind of cheese the Fantastic Four movie is, but it feels… Swiss. Still, at least I was expecting it. Not having read the comics, though, I feel I shoudl probably keep my comments to myself.
We went shopping on Saturday, which reminded me of the lesson I learned a few months back. When I was growing up, I always used to think I hated shopping. I learnt that what I actually hated was shopping with my mum. Now that has been recognised and understood, I actually quite like shopping ^_^
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Sights and Sounds
The sounds of this place, for some quite inexplicable reason, are reassuring. The dull, rubbery click that my shoes - polished, black shoes, my old school shoes - make as they lightly touch the paving slabs, and the rustle they make as they push down yellow-dry grass…
Even the chattering of the crows seems strangely unthreatening, although the blackbirds silently ignore me.
There’s rabbits, too, under the bushes. People don’t worry them, even buses don’t worry them - I guess they’re used to life here. More used to it than I am.
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It's Been Three Years
It’s been three years since the summer that made this song mean something to me… Three years since that summer I used to refuse to talk about, since that summer that either broke me or fixed me.
I guess a lot of time has passed, since then. I’m a different person now, I’m sure of that much. And it doesn’t haunt me anymore.
I guess that’s progress.
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Backwash
Try as I might to live here and call this place home, it’s not. Southampton is home.
Visiting there yesterday and today really made the point to me, I think. Being there, with everyone, and seeing the city in the bright summer sunshine again… I want to go back, I want to stay there, forever, but I know it can’t be forever even if I try.
In a way I wish I could make Bournemouth feel like home. It really should, I lived here for 17 years. But it doesn’t, and I don’t know why…
Heh, I suppose I shouldn’t be making depressing posts like this after the really fun night I had last night. It was really, really good to see everyone again…
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Nerja 2005
I decided to do this all as one entry rather than about 15 separate ones for the sake of everyone’s sanity… =p Here it is anyway, for those who’re interested: My two weeks of drama in the sun.
Things written while on holiday (comments/criticism welcome):
These will become links as soon as I type up the stories themselves.
Short Story / Fanfiction: Bottle Pharaohs
Fragment: Endings and Beginnings
Fragment: Maiñe’s First Day
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Heatwave
The weather today is insane. It’s gone midnight, my windows are open, and I’m sitting at my computer - wearing shorts, drinking water constantly and sweating from every pore of my body. God only knows how I’m going to survive Spain…
Also: I love Steam and ADSL. I just downloaded Half-Life, entirely legally, in four minutes. Scary.