Day 9 Of 11...

There's nothing quite like the tiredness you get from 11 Days of working, in my opinion (with the exception and foreknowledge that I haven't ever done anything Wodge is currently going through, and I know we've all got our bad experiences, so ignore me if you will)...

To be fair, I'm almost to the end. Today will be day 9, and it's not a real full time 11 Days, but it has certainly given me the inability to not switch off, so I wake up tired, gain a tremendous sense of deja vu every walk into town, start work, clean up, repeat. 

I don't have a good firm grip of the English language, I've decided. It's more a soft glace in English's direction when ever I open my mouth. I don't know why, but my brain does like to try and over complicate things, a. in life, and b. in the way that I talk. 

Like I was telling Cherry last week, and more for the most part, if you know me, I sound far better in text format than I think I ever will verbally. I've been through a few speech therapies in my life, mostly to remove a stutter and restore some self confidence. It's an odd thing to try and explain, but going from crippling public speaking problems to the job I have now has certainly been quite an existence. 

So just try to understand me if I get my words around the wrong way, or I'm trying to explain something but I'm going the wrong way around it. Some of you already do that, I know. You can understand the nonsense that I drivel sometimes, and for the rest of you, you'll get used to it, and perhaps one day you'll also hear me sneeze. But not too soon, we require some mystery I think.

It's Red's birthday on the weekend and the order to dress up 'Sexy as Fuck' is certainly one I hope to adhere to. And although I shall endevour to accomplish my goal, I shall possibly fall short if everything doesn't arrive before Saturday. We're hitting the town, and before we do there's gonna be fireworks outside the house and down the street. I think a group on Cardiff Bridge watching fireworks from Bute Park would be epic. But I might be wrong. The fires start at 7pm. They're the big people ones. I'm not sure why there are kid ones and adult ones, and the concept even sounds amusing. Perhaps they'll set the car alarms off again they were so big/loud. Apparently it'll be the biggest display in Wales and one of the largest in the UK. I suppose we'll have to see it to believe it...

Have a tremendous day, and I look forward to seeing us all again, Carpe diem...

I Like Large Parties. They're So Intimate...

He returned to the hovel he had created himself the morning before, bed sheets upturned and pillows astray. His alarm clock blinked 12:02 with an electric blue. The watch on his wrist was the only sound he could hear, and yet somewhere, in the recesses of his vast imagination, he could hear a voice repeating the events of the day...

Long after dawn, though well before afternoon, he found himself greeting a good friend at the train station, a monument of stone and glass. He blended superbly into a small crowd following his friend to a nearby regular haunt. They both ordered coffees and sat contemplating the lives they were currently in.

He realised that he had lost sight of what he'd wanted to become, and he realised that he needed to do something about it. Encouraged by his friend, he sat looking for inspiration, a hard thing to find in the confines of a coffee cup. Stirring the mess of brown and cream he thought long and hard of what he had done. There was no going back, just moving on forward. You cannot relive the past.

Upon completion of his daily tasks, he found his friend again, parked with the ladies, and awaiting his arrival. He, having dropped his belongings, was later than he expected. Though into the wet surroundings he strode, knowing exactly where they would be. He was greeted and they were on their way.

The roadways looked different in the rain. The vehicle itself was a haven of warmth, a comfort for some. As they arrived at their theatrical destination, they were diverted to the nearest car park, for the amusement of parking attendants. This was a minor annoyance for them, however, they arrived on time and in need of refreshments. The queues were only five or ten minutes long, and they managed to avoid the annoyance of television adverts before their cinema experience.

Glasses were worn in the dark corner they found ourselves in, and the feature began: The Great Gatsby. The musical accompaniments were superb though a lot shorter than expected, and the whole cinematography of the work was wonderfully handled. Having not read the source material, he found it a pity that it was a romance doomed to fail, and tragedies of the heart have a tendency to be the most painful tragedies of all. Though, in a way, as his friend did say, it is a story of unrequited love. Daisy loved and loves Gatsby and Tom, Tom loves and loved Myrtle and Daisy, Gatsby loves Daisy and always has, and Nick loves Gatsby.

The feature ended, drawing on the fragments of screenplay it had left and tied them together in an attempt to complete a narrative and more music played. The four ventured out into the dry night air and discussed their thoughts, staring ever into the sky and at the wonders of the Bay. The glowing colours of red, green, and purple, the dry patches of concrete, the dozen closed eateries, before their feet found the car again. He could have stayed out and explored the quiet Bay a little longer, though his bed was calling and he had had a long day.

Carpe diem...