Sunday, August 26, 2007

Photographs of Atleys penis are available on request

here are my notes from a recent trip down to the coast, sorry about the gap between posting, something disrupted the delicate balance of whatever force is keeping my PC together, temperamental thing she is

Time: It’s two in the morning.I probably shouldn’t be mixing painkillers and sleeping tablets, and it probably a worse idea to be washing them down with a cheap energy drink. At very best they’ll cancel each other out and nothing will work. Worst case scenario, well I don’t want to think about it. I love my parent’s house but I could never live here again, the rhythm of it is all wrong, tiny reminders of powerlessness and having to sit through Eastenders would drive me out of small part of my mind I am still occupying.

Tomorrow I will be tagging along with my brother and his friends on a boys weekend down to Newquey and when I say tomorrow I mean in three hours because they have decided to leave at five in the morning, which my body sees more of a bedtime than a reasonable time to get up………

Time: Two in the morning next day. Tonight I had an epiphany; maybe it was because I had been drinking twelve hours solid, or maybe I had been awake for 24 hours straight or maybe it was just the disappointment of finding a place that I had idealized to be awash with aggressively drinking neandershirts, turning it from, what in my mind had been aa relaxing little surfing town, into Broadstreet-on-Sea*. But I had a epiphany none the less – I just didn’t feel like being at the club. It wasn’t the company, a nicer bunch of lads you couldn’t wish to meet. Its just at that moment I saw the pointlessness of constantly chasing those epic nights out, the ones that only really exist in your memory and then only because your memory has edited the event and then is rewritten anyway next day by the hungover accounts of friends and shaky camera phone footage. I despair at the amount of time and money wasted on lukewarm nights in bad clubs

I have been chasing Dionysus’s ghost when true hedonism means doing what really makes you happy.

Time: Three in the afternoon next day This is what makes me happy, today I have been on the beach, alternating between sun snoozing and body boarding, now I have retreated from the sun to write this tired and tanned. In fact I can be said to be tanned in exactly the same way the sea can be described as damp.

But I am tired and tanned and most importantly happy. Unlike my brother who not only got stung by a weaver fish but has had to spend the last twenty minutes digging, trying to find a pair of sandals he buried for a laugh.

not as many notes as i thought, hmmm may come back edit this lot into something more coherent

*Broad street is a street in Birmingham town center where heavily made up women in tiny clothes and louts in knock off designer shirts go to fight, fuck and listen to really poor music. Every city has got an equivalent.

Now playing: The Candy Spooky Theater - Devilish Kidnapper


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