I received an excited email the other night from yet another close friend who I’d neglected to inform of the existence of this sump yet who had, despite my best efforts, finally mastered Google. Naturally, paranoia and self-doubt were soon working their fingers at the nape of my neck and I found myself reading through the archives for a half hour in order to get a clear, well-rounded grasp on how lame I am and how everything I write is crap.
One thing I did notice while perusing pieces I barely remember writing is how much of it used to come directly out of my head. And how lately it has become more a collection of stopgaps and weak trackbacks.
I’m pretty sure I haven’t stopped thinking. I used to compose stuff while walking around the city; working sentences over and over in my head until I had the guts of the thing memorised before ever setting pen to paper. I’m still walking, I’m still thinking. I guess during the summer months one becomes distracted by other things. Sexy things.
So, in order to address the recent imbalance, here is something that comes right out of my daily though-process:
On the train the other day I was sitting near a petite, sophisticated-looking blonde who has been a regular feature on my daily commute for the best part of a year.
At one point she took her mobile out of her neat suit-pocket and began a conversation, speaking loudly and animatedly in the guttural whine of man born somewhere between Prosperous and Edenderry around 1950. I was horrified.
I hope that this anecdote is enough to convince you that, despite your fears, things are on the up-and-up around here. You have nothing to worry your pretty little heads about.
Seems that in your attempt to prove you are not 100% distracted by “sexy things” and are, in fact, still thinking, you proved rather that you are distracted by sexy things, albeit sexy things with guttural whiney man-voices, and your “thinking” consists largely of correctly triangulating and placing their accents. Which, all in all, is just creepy enough to satisfy somehow that things are, in fact, “on the up-and-up around here.” Paradoxical but convincing none the less. So mission accomplished.
And while we are on the subject let me assure you, here and now, that my head, for one, is neither pretty not little.
— Jaime Morrison Sep 12, 09:20 PM #
— finn Sep 13, 04:48 PM #
Maybe all of the blonde ladies on your train will accidentally come across this tonight. That would make things very interesting. Fuck it, I might get the train myself tomorrow morning; just in case. I’ll be the guy stirring shit up…
— eamon Sep 14, 05:29 PM #
I don’t think I’ll be taking a photo. It kind of pushes it into the weird area. Not like writing this.
This site is anonymous for a reason, eamon. But if we do ever hook up (as my imaginations seem to suggest we will) I may have to delete this post.
— Pierce Sep 14, 09:43 PM #