Dusting the speakers?

Dusting the speakers?

What the fuck am I on about?

Serial avoidance techniques - that's what I'm on about.

If it's not one thing, it's another. Shopping, sex, drugs - most of the things I end up doing have the reverse effect; anything that can steer me away from the one thing that will keep me sane.

Writing.

Some of it will be funny. Some of it will be sad. Some of it will piss you off.

I hope that all of it you'll love.

That's it really...

Friday, 29 April 2011

Bring me sunshine...

Well, to be honest with you, I'd settle for a little creative boost. Sunshine is certainly not in short supply here. I already have the kind of tan people might expect a Mediterranean holidaymaker to have. But then I is a Ginger, init, so all I need to do is look at one of those sunshine symbols on the weather forecast and I get sunstroke.

Just had two days with Toby and Alan who were on a whistle-stop tour of the highlands. Did a couple of walks, ate fantastic food, got a bit pissed. Ahh, it were right nice - especially as it was my birthday on the 27/4.


Just watched a bit of the wedding this morning - cardinal sin, putting the TV on before teatime, but I suppose it was a valid excuse...

I was pondering levels of personal security the other day. Strange how when we live in houses, we think of ourselves as virtually unassailable; safe in our little castles, all locked up and secure. I noticed that when I first started living in the van, my sense of personal security was heightened. Over the weeks, this has dropped, but I still have to do the old 'lock routine' to make sure the van's secure while I'm away from it. I shouldn't be surprised. On one occasion when I was living on Plantation Rd, I actually drove back from the end of the road just to make sure I'd locked the front door. Old habits. Why, though, should I feel any less secure in a big old love bus than in a house?

Had a strange day just before my birthday. I was overcome by a terrible yearning to talk to my folks. I wanted to ring them and tell them where I was, what I was up to, talk to Dad about music, tell Mum there was an EWM in Ullapool, so she could go shopping! An awful feeling really - when you really want to do something but there is absolutely no way it could ever physically happen. I'm sure it will have a bit to do with the approaching period of isolation. Not that I'll be away from civilisation, just missing me mates I suppose...

Well, I think I'll bring this cheery blog to a close!

At least it was some writing practice - even if it was to skate across my psyche!

Over and out.

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