Saturday 2 January
2010
Dream: I’m preparing
to meet my friend at Holland Park
for the first time in a while. As I
prepare I am at work with work colleagues but the place more represents a
college I once studied at. When I
eventually get to Holland Park my friend is already entertaining somebody else
but she is happy to see the pair of us.
As she takes out some condoms it is noticed that they only cost 2p. Suddenly the age of them comes clear and
with it a question towards the quality of them. With this I hear the other person kicking off/up a stink about
this and it would appear that this person is a loud and aggressive version of
me. I avoid the guy hiding in a
bathroom where he can be heard vocally criticising me and hurling abuse in my
direction. My friend from Holland Park
however defends me vehemently as the alternative version of me leaves and
disappears.
With this in mind I
awaken feeling slightly loved this morning.
Even if it is just in a dream it is a nice sensation to feel defended.
I enter the second day
of the year just after 8AM knowing
that today is Saturday and a return to the routine for me
is on the cards. Even though I still
feel very tired there is a necessity attached to getting out early and doing
the Saturday
paper run and grocery shop so with this in mind around 8.30AM I get up and
going.
It would appear that
there was some kind of frost again last
night as the windscreen of my car needs some treatment again this morning
which reminds me of my need for de-icer when I hit the shop.
On cue I troll down to
Asda which
thankfully today isn’t too busy as the world still appears to be tugging at the
few remaining opportunities to grab some Christmas
slumber.
Back home I lounge
listening to the Danny Baker
show which today has its Christmas special and an interview with Elton John. The guy actually comes over as likeable and speaking a lot more
sense than I would have expected. Consider
me duped.
After this I begin writing with Fighting Talk playing out
in the background. This year I really want to nail writing, I have
more plans than ever and with it I fear I may be slightly overreaching, running
the risk of, as ever, of spreading myself too thinly. I wish I had more time to allocate to these things.
This afternoon on TV the movie
choices are Spirited Away
and/or Innerspace which
really aren’t overly inspiring.
Today is FA Cup third round day that comes with
“the magic of the cup”, which quite frankly is a load of old horseshit. This seems to come earlier each year
now. My interest lies with Millwall
playing Derby
at The Den. The game ends up at 1-1 which seems an OK
result against a side from the division above although considering their recent
dip in form and fortunes realistically it wouldn’t have been too much to ask
for a victory over them.
Elsewhere on TV the game
featured today is Reading v Liverpool
and I am ashamed to admit that I am overjoyed when Liverpool choke are unable
to do any better than to draw the tie 1-1.
Come Monday when I see the Heavy Metal Manager I will be able to up the
gravity of this result to Liverpool having humiliated themselves.
As the evening turns
into night I begin drinking to accompany my writing and suddenly the words
begin flowing as I guess this is the edge being taken off. Sadly now with my holidays coming to an end
I am finding myself at the most productive I have been.
Accompanying my
evening in the background is a set of documentaries about Elvis. I guess he would have been experiencing some
kind of anniversary around now. Its
funny to suddenly be able to put a face to name Charlie Hodge
after so many years of listening to Bill Hicks
routines mention the guy. Cilla still looks
good and I find myself getting into some kind of Twitter conversation with Alex (from the
studio) about her “badger lines.” Its
her hair.
Eventually the
documentaries end and my writing peters out although by the time I am heading
to bed I am feeling euphoric with what I have come up. Without even knowing it when I flip on my TV
Anchorman
suddenly arrives ending the night on a very good high.
It is perhaps
fortuitous that I did not flip my TV onto BBC2 at this time because showing was
The Assassination
Of Richard Nixon starring Sean Penn which, when
I saw it on Good Friday in 2008, proceeded to freak me out, catching me at a
very low time post Baker Street
and pre restaurant questioning my own decisions and somewhat my own sanity
based behind the decisions. Could I empathise
with Sean Penn’s character
at that time? Hell yeah, I was
experiencing the same kind of emotion that I felt the first time I was shocked
by Travis Bickle’s
action as opposed to his intentions back in the summer of 1993. There is a fear in life of having everything
go wrong, of being misunderstood and abandoned and the subsequent desperation
and acts that follow with this are those than can reduce people’s actions to a
most alarming degree. Such movies of
reduction terrify. Lucky I didn’t watch
it tonight then.
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