Mortis
Tick tock, Christmas approaches, or Hannukah, whatever your religion or upbringing dictates that you celebrate. I was gleefully black flagged at Manchester Airport when travelling home, when I actually got to the airport of course. The Arriva trains company which would ordinarily take me to Manchester airport decided to go on strike, which is most helpful at Christmas as my taxi driver from Manchester Picadilly to the airport informed me. Perhaps I look like a terrorist, but I’ve got used to the body searches, young, unhappy, annoyed indicates possible threat to airline security. So after a body search, I got a bag search and told my miniature cracker-borne screwdrivers could not be taken onto the plane, however my garrotte style chains could. Hmmm. After drug checking my phone, having the soles of my shoes inspected (not necessarily in that order) I was off for a fun filled afternoon in the airport departure lounge. Nothing but fluorescent lights and commerce to carry me onto my plane. I did pick up eight Duracells for £2.54 so wasn’t a COMPLETE waste of time.
My home may have changed aesthetically, (and if i have to correct one more word because of this crappy keyboard the word will be staying mispelled) but the spirit of home still remains. That is, pointless bitching, apathy, repression; these are all the things I am subject to when at home. Thankfully it is only a week, and the stifling boredom should pass once I have something to do. My current book (Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson) is of no solace due to it’s inherent lack of anything exciting; mind you, being 978 pages long, excitement can’t really come in the first 200 pages now can it?
I have laid off the computer up until now, so a full oooh, two days without a computer? Maybe less. Managed to reinstate the fine art of doing fuck all except sugaring: that skill of eating junk food that you wouldn’t rightfully buy with your own money and becoming so high and yet so without anything to do. I’m glad I didn’t bring my laptop because I would just become frustrated with that. My creativity has not so much spiked, but revealed to me for what it is. When I have the tools and the medium to convey and store my ideas, I have none of the mental buildup that I have here, the ideas and notions and concepts all flow onto whatever is handy, my computer, a pad of paper, all ready for near instantaneous implementation. Hear I do not have this luxury, this place just seems to suck the life right out of me…
Have managed to watch “From Hell” with Jonny Depp and Heather Graham. HG gives a performance fit for a cardboard cutout, while Jonny Depp proves remarkably malleable. The death scenes become rather gruesome towards the end, and would have had me in my usual spew-worthy state had I not been sending text messages to my delectable Rachel during it. Strange after having recently seen Harry Potter with Robby Coltrane being in the film (“Hagrid is a police officer?”) and also seen Ian Holmes (“Bilbo’s there!”), the revelation is far more amusing if you think of the characters in that context. The film almost left a sour taste in my mouth until the very end when it made up spectacularly, not as good as an apocalypse (as I bandy for at every opportunity), but something that fitted more with the story and characters overall.
My lust for writing about my recent experiences has waned now, so for now I bid adieu.
