“Your dreams and your hopeless hair…”


“Are you having a bad hair day?”

Queue manic laughter, shortly to be followed by stunned silence.

And so this is the first interaction I get with the appreciative people of my home town. Not that I’m suggesting I give them anything in particular to be appreciative of but I do try to avoid any conflict. And I would appreciate if the other side could reciprocate.

But no, you still get it. Age, shape and size seem to be variables but the general snide and some what unimaginative tone seems to generally be consistent enough. If nothing else you have to hand that to them; consistency.

And so I was left standing staring at three girls who stopped me, (got me to take out my ear phones) just to make the above inquire, and in the second that follows a million things ran through my head, but as ever nothing came out. Maybe I should be grateful. I’m not sure some of it would have been suitable for young ears. And id undoubtedly end up with a law suit or an A.S.B.O

So stood in stunned silence, until I think they thought I was going to cry, I laughed to myself all the way home.

Sometimes I’m sure that when you look at people you can almost read what’s going on in their lives. The stress or the happiness etched on there faces gives you hints and insights.

I wonder as I’m walking around sometimes what people have going on in there lives that makes them look they way they do, and I wonder what they see in my face, or does anyone see anything? Does anybody else even look?

...you dress so messed up your hair is too long/but im changing it all of the time/we march and we fall/we're one and for all/it's just evil all of the time/evil all the time/we are the fiend club...

I Think the Asian girl beside me may be dead.

She's curled up in what seems a completely unnatural fetal position,the rational side of my brain assures me she is sleeping.

35,000 feet above the ground being held up by what is essentially, so man thousand tons of steel and meticulously over packed luggage which is being steered by an underpaid slave wage who is given "turn around" goals.

A person whose voice you will hear perhaps twice in your lifetime and whose face in all likelihood you will never see.

now what was that about rationality?

We don't live in a rational world and I'm thankful for that, it makes so many things plausible.
I am however not thankful for this unresolved droning in my ears.

I don't care where the over wing exits are located, I've already accepted the fact that if this humming steel tube with me inside it is going to crash from 35,000 feet i will either instinctively find said exit, or instinctively realise like so many stunned rats; I AM FUCKED.

I want nothing to do with your gourmet coffee selection and fuck your "luxurious" hot chocolate.

Leave me alone to my book and let the Asian girl sleep (rest?...) in peace.

You definitely write more when you move,maybe it just makes you analyse more,
but God damn that Zimmerman was right!

You'll never write anything unless you move and You'll never fall in love unless you act like a fool.