Patience destroyed

I sit on the edge,
Moments from the beginning,
I can feel its arrival,
But yet cannot live it.

It’s almost tangible.

Here on the edge,
I ignore what is now,
I look to the future,
I forget the past.

It becomes tangible.

Patience destroyed,
Desire surrounds,
I want the beginning,
And create the end.

From tangible to nothingness,
The beginning is lost to me.

Pointing and shaking

My ex father-in-law made a very humorous comment some months ago. He’d been to a gig with friends (though he may have called it a concert, it’s an age-gap thing). He described the evening with enthusiasm. He has a way of story telling that makes you wish you’d been there. He wonderfully said, and I quote “there were lots of people there, pointing and shaking”. Pointing and shaking?! I repeat - pointing and shaking?! It conjured up this fantastic image of numerous rock fans, waggling their fingers from side to side and shaking their body’s in a random manner. Further explanation highlighted that he was referring to the kind of rhythmic nodding and hand-in-the-air pointing that you see at some gigs. In truth we already knew what he meant but we just couldn’t shake the image of helpless rockers shaking all over without any regard to the music.

As a result, I intend to point and shake my way through 2 Many DJ’s at Manchester Academy. I’m already excited and such is my excitement that I may get some practice in beforehand…….

Point, waggle and shake like you mean it. ;-)

Rollers and friendship

I had a beautiful message from my close friend today. It’s wonderful to know people that remind you of the important things in life. I read her message and counted my many blessings. We share a crazy sense of humour, one that many people simply don’t understand. I commented to her yesterday, that I sometimes feel we speak in a kind of code – rambling statements that hold timeless meaning for us and few others.

Her message made comment on my ‘There is light’ blog, where I take the ‘painting the town red’ metaphor and extend it. In an earlier message, I’d offered her a special brush so that she could accompany me on my evening of mayhem, she responded “a special brush, I want a fooking roller”. If you find this statement as funny as I did, you’re welcome to join our celebration of crazy.

This is the blog she referred to http://1974haze.blogspot.com/2009/05/there-is-light.html

xx

Romantic mission

Today, I found myself thinking back to a momentous attempt to gain the notice of a beautiful Irish man. He was tall, dark and had the kind of eyes you could get lost in. His appearance coupled with the Irish brogue caused me to make it my mission to spend some quality time in his company. Initial plans went well. He knew my friend so this enabled the conversation to commence. There was mutual flirting. Things took a turn for the downhill when I deemed it necessary to drink many, many drinks. He was drinking too but was either more accomplished than me or else more sensible. I vaguely recall that a group of us went to a party after many pub beverages, though we may have just returned to my friend’s student house. My memory is sketchy on these details. Sadly the vagueness of memory ends there. I recall with surprising clarity that at some latter point in the evening, I had no choice but to stumble towards the bathroom. I wanted to lie down and lie down I did. Upon arrival, I found the bathroom floor moving towards me with a great speed. For some time I lay there, holding onto the floor in a hopeful attempt to stop it from moving. In my minds eye, I can still see the pink carpet and bathroom furniture spinning around my head as if this was a completely normal activity for carpets and bathroom suites. I can only assume that the noise of my collapse or people’s vain attempts to use the toilet caused me to be found in this horizontal position. Much to my absolute delight, I looked up into the beautiful brown eyes of the man I had been trying to attract. He was moving and slightly blurry but it was definitely him. He looked down at me. I looked up at him. Not the kind of eye contact context I’d imagined. He then attempted to pull me into a vertical position (which was the opposite of the position I had wanted him to pull me into). After much fumbling and moaning (and you’ve guessed it, not the type I was hoping for), I was upright, wobbly and clinging onto him for dear life. For some strange reason he found me somewhat less attractive after that event. I just can’t think why…..

By the way - I should point out that I’ve attained some wisdom as the years have passed and now always stop drinking long before I pass out. However I’m still wonderfully skilled at looking ridiculous in front of men to whom I’m attracted. I always make a lasting impression just not always the one intended.

There is light

There is light at the end of the tunnel, admittedly it’s a glimmer, faint and in the far distance but none-the-less there is light. The end of the ‘oh so painful essay’ is drawing nearer. It’s almost an achievement. Worryingly, I have discovered that I have two more essays to hand in on the 2nd June. Initially, I wasn’t worried at all because I thought, oh the 2nd of June, that’s light years away. Then I had a conversation that highlighted to ‘my head in the clouds self’, that the 2nd June is next Tuesday. Next Tuesday, gulp! An objective condition that is unavoidable. Conversations need to occur with my tutors and quickly.

I wonder why I decided to study three courses simultaneously. With the benefit of hindsight, not the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s very difficult to invest sufficient time in all three of them, particularly when time management is practically unknown to me. I can describe its meaning but actually practice it - nope. Less socialising and more studying is what’s required, either that or the Degree takes rather longer than I intended, I focus on fun and say goodbye to Uni until next year. A tempting thought.

I’ve studied for many years now – people often say, have you finished your course now because you’ve been studying for ages (their emphasis tends to be on ‘finished’ and ‘ages’). I think there is a perception out there somewhere (I point my finger vaguely to outline this point) that I keep failing and starting my studies from scratch. I don’t, I’ve finished and passed a number of courses since embarking upon the virtually ludicrous plan of being a part-time, self-funding student. There are qualifications and I have the paperwork in a drawer somewhere.

I began studying back in 1998 (I think) and have been a part-time student ever since. I anticipate a bit of break after this current phase, then probably more courses – maybe something less intense, like pottery or erm Feng Shui. Learning is fun or at least that’s what Universities and the like tell us. Currently, I’m not sure I agree with them. However, it is wonderful to hold knowledge and I believe that the pursuit and receipt of knowledge encourages you to grow as a person, as long as you don’t become conceited and deem those who appear to hold less knowledge to be smaller than you are. We are all learning, one way or another. It’s just that some of us, the slightly crazy ones, decide to hand over their hard-earned cash to assimilate someone else’s knowledge. Deep sigh…..

When I’ve completed all three essay’s, I’m going to have a really long sleep, then go out into the social world and paint the town a kaleidoscope of colours because painting the town red will not encapsulate the extent of the fun I intend to have. When I go out, I suggest you stay in or else be covered in the bright, sparkly and slightly cheeky paint of my mayhem. I’ll be like Jim Carey in The Mask only less green and female. It will take me hours to get ready and Human Traffic moments will be integral.

xx

Grace and out of me

Thought I'd add the 'Grace and out of me' video to my profile. A classic song by Sucioperro. Watch and enjoy.

Just in case it hasnt worked properly the link is http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wbnhkklOkMc

xx

Pretending

If I pretend my essay is a blog, will it become more fun to write? What are the possible risks of just writing from memory and not researching any course materials? It may lead to a lower marks and quite possibly a fail but it would be over. The wrong attitude to take probably. I've always been a good student but I seem to have lost my study vibe. Lost somewhere in life, fun, friends, socialising, facebook, twitter, bebo, the Sucioperro forum and blogging. I have replaced studying with networking. Maybe I could write an essay on networking. It wouldnt answer the essay question at hand but I could write it all from memory. I've a feeling my tutor would probably notice. Maybe if I stop going to work because that inconveniently prevents me from spending all my time networking, I mean erm studying. Right then essay, watch out because I'm going to wrestle you to your bitter end. Are you ready fingers, start typing. Right then. Onwards.....erm....oh sod it, I could put Bones on instead.