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Wednesday, 28 August 2013

Changes to make

Imagine that I am a car. I've hit the ramp at one side of the ravine which represents my holiday to Scarborough in August and I've not yet reached pay day in September. I exist suspended in between somewhere. I am free wheeling with no petrol until I hit land on the other side. My spirits are strong though because I worked hard earlier in the month to build up a reserve (overtime) of petrol for when I land, empty. 

My social skills are currently running at around 25% as I stay hidden for the most part writing and reading. It's been very rewarding with this 'less tv' approach. If I'm to be hard on myself I would say that I need to go walking more. It would be pleasurable too to walk with my headphones on as I strolled on the canal or up into the surrounding hills. With the hot weather no doubt passing as we reach September, I can avoid the prickly heat which is my burden at the moment. 
Whilst I've worked nearly 100 hours over this year, I've spent a lot of it on buying things from EBay (I like to imagine this is just one man called Ernest Bay who has loads of shit to sell). 
I have more than I need now and so will wind in my spending. Christmas isn't a scary proposition either financially since I bought some presents as early as February. With only one credit card these days, I would say it proves I am on the right track. Not drinking has really helped with money and happiness. But working some 12-16 hour days helped the most. So is the last half of this year going to be one long relax? I hope so. 24 hours can often feel like a short time but if you use them wisely it can be enough to work through anything.  Days are only bound by 24 hour time frames because we man has made this calculation. Sleep can be fought off until you have done whatever you need to do and then caught up with afterwards. Coffee was invented for this. 

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

August Bank Holiday 2013

My bank holiday weekend was enjoyed by visiting the cinema four times and hanging out with my son a lot. On a particularly hot hour on the Monday, I cooked my prickly heat wounds while in the local park which I am suffering for today. I started the evidence review of our first visit to the Picture House and the next thing I realised, I'd finished the write up. 
I thought overtime had left my life for a while but since my machine only got fixed at 3pm today, I'm still here at 6. But I should take it whilst its there. 
I look forward to being home now though. I have a few writing projects to work on tonight and onwards and I'm making those the priority 
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As promised to myself, I worked on my aunts book and made notes up to halfway through. I feel awkward because I don't particularly like the book and especially how it's written. In fact although I'm no one to talk......I think it's badly written. But I couldn't say that and I'm forever being pressured into loving it when I don't. I do it to please my aunt and to try and respect the effort that she has finally given it. 

I think I will retire to bed and read a new book as I finished Neil Gaiman's Ocean At The End Of The Lane today. 

Friday, 23 August 2013

Re recharged

I worked 16 hours yesterday until 11pm where upon I went home directly to bed. 
But along with the exhaustion came a shedding of skin and a kind of rebirth occurred. Whilst listening to Gary Numan on 6music he played some tracks which led me to buy albums via iTunes immediately. Then I played these albums into the night and heard music which excited me for the first time in many years.  
This noise made me remember who I was inside my shell, deep down at its core. Whilst not all of that is a 'good' thing to be reminded of, I felt reinvigorated by the vision. A burst of self belief filled me even though it was so hot at work that I'd taken my t shirt off because I was alone, and I don't like seeing myself naked even though I'm perfectly 'normal' in size (proportion wise). 

It felt like being a late teen again and having a band or two to follow as your own. Reclaiming your identity in a way. 
So I feel my shields are fully charged now and I can refocus my energies on to whats important to me. 


Thursday, 22 August 2013

Shell

Well today you find me in a slightly hermit mood. My money is spent after my holiday to Scarborough and I'm looking forward to the regular routine of school hours through the week. I'm wanting to spend some quality hours at home and read and write properly. But there's always either something important to do or overtime. I'm not complaining though. 
Our paranormal team has decided to leave public events due to a section of idiots coming along with the soul purpose of trying to cause hassle by holding the glass still and suchlike. 
I don't need the hassle. I'm so glad I wasn't at the last 'final' event where it turned nasty. 
So humans have once again become something to avoid where possible. 

My printing machine is a bit broken too at the moment so I'm limping with that until the engineer comes. It's been quite a tricky week even with my boss away. But if I shrink into my shell, into the safety of my head- I'm safe. 

Monday, 19 August 2013

Scarborough day 2

Breakfast time came and we joined the other guests at a table with our room number on. This alone, meant I felt ok. No sharing, buffet style or anything. We knew our table and food was our own. I didn't eat my mushrooms or black pudding because they are both food of satan. 
We put our sat nav on in the van to go and park at the Castle car park. We drove one hundred yards and it said "you have arrived at your destination". 
We parked next to graveyard which was my sons second ever sighting of one. I explained that it was the living you have to be afraid of. 
We wound our way down a long hill stairs and pondered on the task of getting back up again on the way back to the van. 
The sea was far out this morning and we walked through scattered debris of crab parts. The fishermen had dumped a load of baskets out for the gulls and my son basically built a crab from various bits. 

When he'd had enough of his bucket and spade and the sea, we hiked back up to the castle. To keep the kids entertained, there was a sheet of paper with six characters to find from the clues . My son enjoyed the hunt but we couldn't find the last character. Maybe he would've walked away with just 5 out of 6 but I was damned if I was going to. With extra effort and common sense I had us collect all six. He got his certificate and we headed off to Peasholm Park once more. The model war event had to be run by emptying all the park and putting barriers up allowing ticket buyers only back in.  We had to wait a full hour for re-entry but it was worth it. The boats used their fireworks to great effect and I really enjoyed it. I said to my son that this was time to return home but he wanted to head to the top of the Chinese temple once more  beforehand. We had to wait 15 minutes for it to be reopened. He liked it a lot up there. Finally we drove home and he slept for a good hour. I tried and tried to wake him and finally got a McDonalds meal down him and got him home for 7pm. 
What a brilliant holiday. A magical time in my life if their ever was one. 
I'm looking forward to my bed though. 

Sunday, 18 August 2013

Scarborough 2013 day 1

We arrived in Scarborough and I was struck by the memory at parking at the exact same place when I'd come with my ex wife for the day. The seaside south beach was busy even as rain clouds chased over head for a few minutes here and there. I'd only put parking on for one hour and this gave us forty minutes playtime on this beach. But that was enough for my son to take to playing in rock pools and getting his trainers wet. We drove to our B+B for the evening which over looked the cricket ground. It had all we needed and more but the en suite was extra appreciated as I'd passed stand alone toilet rooms as we ascended the stairs. My son complained that he didn't want to go back out so soon but I needed to put a free car parking scratch card on the van. We walked one street away and saw the north  beach below us. 
We wound our way down a windy cliff path and sat out upstairs at a nice cafe to eat lunch. It felt later than 1pm by now and it had that wonderful feeling of freedom that we'd arrived. Once we had ate and drank I convinced my boy to walk towards the north beach and sand and shops area. We realised that we could probably walk to the Sea Life centre actually. We stopped on a patch of grass under some disused train pylons. I picked an inch of grass off to expose the soil beneath and told my son that it was only he and I who had ever looked upon this bit of soil. I said we'd claimed it as our own. Our new bit of land was only big enough for us both to lay a finger on together but it was a start. Within a minute we had grown possessive of our new find and covered it with plucked grass so no one else could muscle in on it. We walked ever closer to the Sea Life centre on a beautiful day. He ended up on my shoulders. Finally, £26 later, we were in the Sea Life centre looking at a whole array of water based animals that I realised I didn't care for. A children's programme called The Octonaughts had a character dressed up upstairs for the kids to stand with. There was no way of getting past this character without acknowledging it and having a photo with it. My son showed no real interest but went along with the idea. He was more interested at getting the sticker after. Upon walking past the character he smelt that something was up,"why isn't he talking?" He said. 
Outside the centre we boarded a mini railway to Peasholm Park which was dangerous fun. Once at the park we walked around the lake before locating the one bridge across to the middle as the dragon shaped boats peddled underneath it. We played ninjas as he found his way to the temple on top where he kept interrupting my 'inner peace' (Kung Fu Panda 2). As if we hadn't walked enough that day we walked further around some of the trails before heading back to the B+B. We played with figures for an hour (thank god I'd packed them) before setting off out to find tea. I didn't think we'd walk far but soon ended up through the town centre, down some winding cliff path and to the South Bay again where we shared fish and chips on the beach at 8pm, followed by an ice cream. Then we had to walk uphill back to the shop and back to the room. 
All in all a bloody lot of walking. Netflix streaming took us up to 9:30pm as we watched 'Goosebumps' which is like The Twilight Zone for kids. This seemed to spark his imagination (it was an episode about a cuckoo clock which turned time backwards). 
It's 1:42AM, I can't sleep. This isn't my bed or how I have it at home. I think I've had my allotted rest over the last few nights anyway. Tomorrow is my cooked breakfast which I've been excited about. In the afternoon I want to see the model battle on the lake too. I'd like to see the castle too if possible. 
Scarborough is brilliant. I will love coming back hopefully and it's a damn sight better than Blackpool. 

Saturday, 17 August 2013

Holiday weekend

Yesterday was a spare day for my son and I. We followed our normal routine of Netflix, shower bath and play with just hanging out and playing with lesser played with toys. The mid portion of lunchtime was spent playing Adventures with the inclusion of tent making in the front room. Our afternoon and early evening was fun as we played Halo multiplayer heavily; just the two of us on a private map rather than the game itself. My sons latest NINJA interest (as well as my watching Karate Kid 1 and 2) seems to have meant he beats me up every ten minutes during play and sometimes he catches me unawares and has to be told. It's all good fun though. After we had read our bedtime stories I told him a story which I'd outlined as a writing project about three kids and a dragon on the outer moorlands of a made up world. I was familiar with the start and had to wing it by the end. His face lit up at each dramatic section and he sat with his finger in his mouth as he listened. It actually was helpful for me by the end as now I know how to finish it better, at least the first draft. 
We set our sails for Scarborough this morning. I kept thinking it was Sunday all yesterday and now I keep thinking its Monday instead .........and it's not. A long drive lay ahead but sometimes when you go on an adventure, a lot of travelling must be done. I'm looking forward to finally getting to the B and B plus having a cooked breakfast the following morning. 

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Future relationships

I have no interest in rubbing my slowly sagging, greying body against anyone else's. 

Marriage day memories

I made the error of looking on Google Earth which led me look for places I'd been. This in turn led me Cyprus where I got married. I couldn't remember the hotel name of even which bit of the island it was on but after a google search I found it. Memories of our holiday/wedding came running back. I looked at the photos of the beautiful hotel which was a class above us to be fair. Then I saw a photo of the wedding area overlooking the sea where we had our ceremony. A lovely place yes, but tinged with the fact that I was no longer married. The next picture was of the poll area, which brought back the day after our wedding day where my new bride had a right go at me out of the blue.."this wedding was your bloody idea, its you who wanted it After all. Why don't you seem bothered?" 
I hadn't 'gushed'.  I simply aren't the type. Had her previous husband done so? We'd been together 6 long years, should it feel anything other than like signing a contact? 
I was happy in myself. I had a nice home a family and a wife and I was enjoying my two weeks away. All I saw was my new wife giving me shit. 

Never get married. That's when it becomes a chore. 

Loves Lament

Like most (all?) people, I've always wanted an ear to listen to me. An ear which wants to know trivial things such as how my day's been or what I'd like for tea that evening. More so I'd like an ear to ask what my hopes and dreams are and have a genuine interest in having them realised. I wanted that ear to have aspirations and feelings of its own and I'd listen intently to what it said too. It seems I just haven't found someone who I can have a two way interest in. As the ' soured love' songs play on the radio, I realise that I've wanted an audience of one special person just as much as the next person. It just seems I struggle to give back just as much as people have struggled to be interested. 
I'm capable of love because my son has proved it ten times over. In my dreams I meet new lovers who I feel spiritually joined to in an unexplainable way. Then I wake. Reality is present. 
Love with a partner is like an illusion which we willingly blind ourselves with. 
We all end up with a list of ex's where we look back and wonder why we felt so besotted. But surely the feeling of the first weeks of love were genuine? 

It matters not because in the space of time the image sours like last seasons rotting fruit on this years tree. 
Still I lament that I have not found a woman who is actually interested in who I am....and I feel the same in return. It's not that I don't feel the desire for love, it's just that in my experience, we all lie to ourselves. 

To be thankful

I'm in my midlife in my opinion. I'm 39. I see my grandma age 93 I think and know of others who are dealing with illness which threatens their further existence and I hold my life force tightly. If my life was to end in a months time let's say then how I be left standing? Well, my diaries of my existence would be up to date. My son knows I love him because I tell him so everyday. I speak to my father via email and that means I wouldn't have that loose end to tie up. I found my own happiness and place in the world in 2011 so I've reached a personal plateau with that one. But to not see my son grow older would be a painful prospect but then I'd say that no matter what age he was. Just another year God I'd be saying. 
When I think about how I'd tell my son all the things (lessons) I'd learnt about life it makes me wonder why no elderly person has ever imparted their knowledge onto me. Why doesn't my gran lecture me on what to do? 
Anyway all of this reflection on dying makes me appreciate things like my sons face obviously but also looking at the clouds in the sky, the sea or all the other things of natural beauty which we ignore most days. Family would seem important again. Friends would be missed. I have three friends who I don't see regularly and without them Who would be at my funeral to say what a good bloke I was? 
I fully enjoy the air I'm breathing today and my limbs for still moving. 
Until my body starts to turn against me I intend to be thankful more. 

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

To write or to not write?

I'm reading many different websites on the art of writing a novel but feel I'm not actually skilled enough to have it be good. I find ideas easy but its the craft of the language on paper that when re read has the feel of a twelve year olds work. I write everyday in some form or another but I'm only as skilled (can I even call myself skilled at all?) as I am and no more. Is there a point in writing a story that's shit and only I will read it? 
I hope so. How important is it for me to have written a story at all? Very. 
It's always something I've felt I wanted to achieve. But surely if it's rubbish, then it's not really worth the time? 
I think I should write it because the 'writing of it' will give me pleasure while I'm doing it. I think I have my answer. 
I mean after all, I've written this blog for three years and it has no point and is shit. I've written a diary since the age of eleven (I'm 39) and that's pointless (although useful for quantifying my time on the planet). 

Fuck it, I'll plod ahead with it. 

Monday off/ Tuesday back to it

Got up for work and ironed my clothes before heading to open up. I followed the instructions from the previous week but discovered I wasn't doing those colours actually, I was back on my favourite job again for which I've accrued a lot of overtime. Not to worry, I soon changed colours again. 
I'm in the final half of the book I'm reading and I've had about ten others arrive from eBay over the last week. I'm really enjoying life with my sky box unplugged. I've still got a massive queue of Netflix etc waiting but whilst the overtime is around, I'm ok not watching it much. 
Besides I've still got my Medium Interviews project to complete and that will take priority. I started it ten months ago. I am hibernating in some form or another. As I read in bed last night, I thought of friends I haven't seen a great deal of and thought 'I should visit really' but a stronger feeling of enjoying what I was doing took over. Surely my own pleasure comes first. Well it does even if it shouldn't. 
I'm considering staying late late tonight as opposed to just late. I want to cash in while overtime is still available. Two hours to go before the regular workers start to disappear home for the day. I'm also looking forward to having my time back though to visit the cinema and work on my writing. My writing desk is sat ready and willing but alas I'm busy. 
I'm content in the knowledge that after tonight i'll see my boy everyday for six days in a row. It makes for a great sense of contentment. 

The hot weather is still with us; its been an incredible summer actually. I hoped 2013 would be a standout year but even though its only August, I don't think it's quite as good as 2012 for me. My short list of things to accomplish (watch 365 films in the year) is going well and my rules to live to have been followed (be less visible, diary comes first, shave more). But there's still some magical ingredient missing which last year made for a belter. 
2014 is probably going to be devoted to reading and writing. I will watch films at my leisure rather than pushing them on myself one a day where possible. Each year should bring some reward though and I have enjoyed be targets set. At least when I look back on an individual year, I will be able to say I achieved this....  

Monday, 12 August 2013

Secret forest, graveyard secrets

I spent the day in the company of my son. We played endlessly it seemed, the same game. A vampire hunter has a vampire cousin whom he meets once more living in a run down house. At midday we chose to explore the woods behind the co-op. I'd never been near but I'd read it was possible. We pursued this secret area and couldn't find where the way to them was. Upon giving up and starting our journey back home, we stumbled upon the public footpath which invited us to where it led. It was a secluded steam with a cascade of treetops covering it from sight. A metal bridge was in place and an uneasy calmness danced in the air around us as my son through bigger rocks than I was happy with into the water of the stream. After 15 minutes we took the journey back. My son confirmed in a questioning way that 'zombies, vampires and ghosts weren't real were they?!' I never tell him that I communicate with or even believe in ghosts. I think he needs to be much older. He also said that Skeletons didn't exist which led on to him not knowing that graveyards were real! We were two minutes from the local church and its graveyard and so I asked him if he'd like to step into the church yard. He was eager. We walked around and he seemed overjoyed that gravestones shaped like Halloween crosses existed. It wasn't a macabre experience in the slightest, more a peaceful life affirming moment between us as we clung to each other more and strengthened our bond. "We'll never be apart dad will we, even when we are ghosts?" No son, we'll always be tied to each other. 

Yet another wonderful day in his presence. 

Sunday, 11 August 2013

Just be you

"I wish I was you Dad". 
These words were uttered to me within minutes of collecting my son for the weekend. I quickly corrected him. "You're better than me, so don't wish to be me". I explained that he was going to be fashioned by me but without the bad parts. I went on to explain not to try and be anyone other than himself. It was his job to be him as there was no one better to do that job and that was the point of his existence. 'To be yourself'  , I liked the simplicity of it, the truth of it, the way it rolled easily off the tongue. 
He seemed to understand as be sat quietly looking forwards out of the van window. I tried to go on further but his brain had wound down .... 
"Dad do you want to play 'would you rather'." 
Eg. Would you rather have a bird poo on you or a rope brain? 

Thursday, 8 August 2013

I wish you dead.

I was awoken through the night by my prickly heat condition making me want to scratch my skin off both arms. It drove me crazy and to be fair to myself, I refrained from scratching bar from once in 18 hours. I double dosed on hay fever remedies and that's subdued it somewhat but not negated it. 
My son was restless also at 4am and after briefly getting him back asleep, he power napped big time. I knew he would be mad for missing Netflix time before holiday club but I wanted him to rest. 
He awoke and moaned that 'he didn't know it was morning'
The school run was successful after I let him take him Bionicle with him for the day. 

On my way to work after dropping my boy off I was behind a car heading up the long climb out of Cullingworth towards the pub called The Guide (which i found out used to be known as The Gormless due it being in such a stupidly unpopulated area). I was the middle car of three and a forth car from the back of the pack suddenly decided it would overtake all three of us. Yes the road was long and straight but on its route it peaked and troughed leaving it prone to cars coming the other way invisible. As it goes, the lady driver managed to pass all three of us with a few seconds to spare before the brow of the hill brought the last half of the road into view and also had a car coming the other way. What I wish to say is this; as she passed my van I put my foot down and didn't turn my head to give the effect that I hadn't seen her. The other car was being careless and wanted to show up that carelessness by making her worry about the decision as she found herself trapped on the wrong side of the road. What if I hadn't seen her car and I tried to overtake the car in front? I would've crashed into her pushing her off the road. 
The moment she was level with the car in front of me I saw she would be hoping to not meet a car up ahead going to Cullingworth. I'm afraid it was a this point that I hoped she would meet a car and that it would result in a fireball to extinguish the stupid driver and her bad road sense. But as the image of an approaching fire ball danced in my mind I realised I would plough into the inferno and so I took my foot off the accelerator and let the hill slow me out of harms way.  
There was no damage done in the end, just a few raised eyebrows. 
I never use my car horn or do rude hand gestures at other drivers. I drive stony faced and unremarking.
But in my head I wish you dead. It's the same when motor bikes fly past me on a blind bend. I hope to drive safely around the corner to see the cyclist has disappeared through the wall and up a tree. I hope the body has just enough energy left to think to itself, "well, that was stupid". 

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

CHRISDROID

With the Russians on my tail, I've realised that every couple of days I've been getting a phone call off an Unknown number which goes dead when I answer. Am I being tracked? What I decided was happening was they were ringi g me and re offing different samples of me saying "Hello" in the hope that they can construct a voice simulation to copy my voice and then make an android version of me. They'd have my identity plus my voice. Plus details gleaned from my hacked Twitter account. They would make a version of me called CHRISDROID. CHRISDROID would commit crime in my name and get the real me into all sorts of scrapes and mistaken identity calamities. 
Meanwhile, the real me who is now identity less can double his efforts to clear his name. It could get quite confusing. 
So be on your guard about which version of me you are dealing with. 

Of course if this was an episode of The Twilight Zone, it would be the version talking to you now who would turn out to be the  clone!! 

Utter mindfuck! 

Deception zombie

Every person in the workplace, speaks to each individual about an issue which caused a problem in the working day and spins it so that they make themselves appear in the right. I hear dialogue exchanged and note the twists employed. Nobody wants to be the one in the wrong who may be to 'blame'. There are always circumstances laid out to show how decisions were informed along the way. The more people they explain to, the more right they believe the selves to be. It doesn't work like that. The truth is the truth whether it is shouted from the rooftops of never uttered at all. 
It's much the same outside of work in the confines of homes around the world. Family and friends give their side of tales and embellish their part in it or reduce their involvement to fool the listener into looking kindly upon the teller. 
Lies some would call it. But it's only really deceiving ones self ultimately. 

I employ this at work myself after a stupid decision or genuine mistake. I apportion blame so as to lessen the load on myself. But today, I'm too tired to bother. A long day with overtime has taken the wind out of my already windless sails. The me who operates my body from the inside, seems so remote, that today,  speaking seems like the words would have to travel up two staircases to reach my lips. I view the world not through my eyes but rather through the tv monitors that reside between my heart and lungs. 
The two coffees this morning have only served to keep me on my feet. I shuffle like a zombie. 
But I'm in good spirits. 

Tuesday, 6 August 2013

It beats a pseudonym

My blog has started to have a Russian following to rival my British one. I put that down to Internet fraud attempts. Twitter contacted me to say it had changed my password for because it believed someone was tampering. 
So I've been thinking about leaving my blog for a few weeks. 
But then, in my opinion I never write anything of any importance. 
Plus if they do manage to steal my identity, then I will be without an identity. Kinda like The Lone Ranger (who I would argue has a recognisable identity as The Lone Ranger), I could move about incognito maybe adorning a mask. 
It would be a huge step towards my hopes to attain INVISIBILITY one day. 

So good luck to the Eastern Europeans in their quest to become Chris Whitehouse. Good luck with the soul searching, self hatred and odd look. 

It's better than a mere pseudonym. 

Monday, 5 August 2013

The way and the light.

My son and I enjoyed our days together and we never grew tired of each others company for a minute. With almost 35 years between us, it was all put to the side as we glanced at each other and saw into each others souls. There's a connection the kind which I've never known before. He proudly said to me "we know everything about each other" as he put his tiny arm around my shoulder like we were the best of friends who were these age. Thankfully he doesn't know everything about me. If he did, he would see inner damage and scarring which he is the ointment for. He would probably pity me for doting on him so much. 
But that's the way it is. I took yet another print of his hand and foot at this age for prosperity. I showed him the difference of size between his foot now and at 1. He thinks nothing of my enjoyment in his existence. The way I catalogue his even move is not judged yet. The separation between us is something we face  together. Just like the way we swapped heartbeats when he went away. 
I returned to base without him and started to read again and write some M.I. before watching the last half of 'Salem's Lot' tv series starring Rob Lowe. 
The clock strikes 10:47pm in the silent way that a  digital clock does. Tiredness wins the fight for another night. 
What would I be without my son? Why would I be? 
He is my justification and repentance. He is the way and the light. He is just fucking cool! 

Friday, 2 August 2013

'Chris Whitehouse on writing'

I've been reading 'Clive Barker on writing', 'Stephen King on writing' and various web pages including 'How to improve your writing'. It seems that the quota to write 1000 words everyday is something I've done for easily a decade and its increasing each year. The words flow easier but not necessarily any better. Stephen King himself, actually wrote a helpful book called 'On Writing' which I've ordered. The other piece of advice I do to some degree, and that is to read read read. I have six or seven books in a queue which I plan on devouring this year and onwards. 
The new thing I've learnt is the process of writing a first draft quickly and without a care for the editing of it. Letting it slew out like an abomination which no one else will set eyes on, full of problems and crap ideas. 
Then the second draft will do away with some of the shit and so on and so on. 
I also like Clive Barkers preference to scrawl handwritten. I write my paper diaries handwritten and live the flow of pen on paper. I also like this digital format because generally I see the words misspelt, get corrected automatically as I write the following words. It's like I'm one with the mind on the digital device. 
So I am now fully charged with the writing bug and will make this a priority. 

Instinctive printing

I just had a weird flashback to running a Gestetner for all those years when I started printing in 1990. I first thought about the wash up sheets employed to clean the machine and then the water switch to clean the ink off the plate followed by the plastic guard when running. I know that if I stood in front of one right now, I could run it instantly without thinking. Some things are engrained in your body from constant replay. I'm five machines ahead these days in 2013, now running a Heidelberg GTO 52 full colour machine. 
It seems ill be a printer all my life. 

Thursday, 1 August 2013

Friday morning ponderings

The morning jumped up to meet me as it pushed itself under my covers like an Enthusiastic puppy. I responded the same way as I would have to a wet nose against my skin, I muttered "fuck off". But then my radio alarm clock came on with its 'current hip' dj strutting his stuff, enjoying his 15 minutes of fame, followed by my mobile backup alarm. 
"Alright, I'm up I'm up!" I proclaimed to no one. The. I was walking with more if a slouch than primordial man to flop my hair in a different, more orderly direction that my 8 hours of rest had built. I was the last out of work last night at 8:15pm and I was unlocking work, being the first in, this morning at 6:45am. I could sense last nights footsteps still fading as my life circled on itself once again. My teenage LSD experiments had taught me life is a series of circles which revolve endlessly throughout your life span and you are but one link in a chain throughout eternity which stretches into the ether of memory. ...  But hey, that's LSD for ya. 

My spirit future...

And as I stood, tired and hot, I saw my reflection looking back at me. A faded echo of my hours overtime which I had done many of. A lone figure once again against the backdrop of the world. 
I would be forgotten quickly like the echo of an echo. And eventually, I would be lost in the land of the living and the land of the dead. 

Staying supple

I swear that I used to be able to kneel down with my feet flat (souls up) and basically sit my bum down on top of my feet. I could then actually lie backwards flat so that my back was horizontal to the floor and my head was on the floor too. 
I went to the works toilet and took my shoes off and knelt down. This alive was done slowly and like a pensioner. My knees didn't like the concrete floor under them for starters. I moved my upper body backwards slightly and immediate got cramp in both feet. I rolled sideways in more of a flop to rescue my inner workings of my toes quicker. 
I can still do a 'crab' position but its touch and go whether I come out of or not. 

I've taken to doing a position most mornings in bed before I get up. I pull my knees up to my chest and adopt what is pretty much a bowing position with legs tucked neat away under my body and the bed covers still on my back. I breath out and allow my body to relax. I love the strain I feel at my knees and also the top of my legs under my hips. 
I'd love to have one of those people who do this stuff to you come and stretch the hell out of me, but in a safe way. 

Staying supple is not an easy task. 

Day three without son

With my son still on holiday this morning, I didn't have the school run to do. Wow it feels good. I feel so much more chilled this week without having to get to A or B in time for C. The warm skies have made it through the clouds today and so there's a nice feeling in my body as I go into a long day into overtime. 
Kerching! Is the key word today. 
I bought some shaving blades and electric toothbrush heads last night, Jesus, its easy to spend the overtime cash that way! 
I'm in a happy place at the moment and have much to loo forward to this year. It's a good time to bathe in optimism and I never thought I'd be saying that five years ago. 
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It's the afternoon now and to say its hot and humid is an understatement unless you are from a hot country, in which case it's mild out. 
My 'gentlemen's excuse me'  is in fear of being cooked or boiled in sweat. I would welcome walking around naked next to my printing press.
Thank god for talc.