Where there's a Willesden there's a way

Monday, July 26, 2004

Me Again

I think I've finally got the use of my head back.

Sometimes you just lose the ability to think, and it's difficult to find a cure for it. Recent events make it clear a holiday's not going to do that, but you bring yourself back to life in the most unexpected circumstances, be it an image of everything you've ever wanted or a dreary weekend in a leafy suburban hellhole.

I'd better rewind on that one. As a family we went to housesit our cousin's place for the weekend. And, sure enough, it's a leafy hellhole.

Space and fresh air are all very well, and I did appreciate the fact that they have a shed (or 'rumpus room'- it's pure Ned Flanders) approximately the size of my flat. And trees, and songbirds.

And nothing but sprawling streets, and no shop for three miles. Christ it's maddening. Perfectly friendly neighbours, no distant sirens or hmmm of traffic to shatter the peace. Nothing but the creaking of an old swing and the song of happy, perfect people who don't have too many books. It was like the Stepford families. As the weekend wore on I got frustrated, reactionary, mad, and, well, me.

Rewind again. Events I can't even start to explain drove me to go on a little journey before landing in leafy nowhere. And several times I saw, just out the corner of my eye, an image of all the things I want, and ways in which I could be almost, dammit, happy. If you looked too long or tried to rationalise it, it would suddenly be ten miles away, but it wasn't just a pair of eyes, or a garden full of stars, it was a life. And I got taught one of those annoying lessons in the glaringly obvious, which is that what I'm supposed to be doing with my life is to get that life I want, and, well, live it. Annoying isn't it? And yet, curiously redeeming.

Blogger's changed while I've been away. Two months is a long time on the net. Christ, an afternoon's a long time on the net. I'm probably going to look like an old-fashioned journalist hammering away at a keyboard and looking for the return lever in a cloud of smoke until I get the hang of this new interface.

As for me, I seem to have aged a bit since I last looked in the mirror. It maybe didn't help that I had 5 hours sleep and three days of stubble. I sometimes wonder if I'm going through my daze a little too often. Or maybe the fact I don't have a record of what was on my mind is catching up with me. So come with me as I wear the keyboard out.


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