17th October 2006

They say that this day was absolutely irrelevant in the grander scheme of things. Which is why they picked it of course. For its remarkable degree of banality. When making a virtual time-capsule and hoping that this one actually lasts all the way through time, it's best to see just how ordinary life could be. A Tuesday no less! Worst day of the week really, what with all that weekend energy having dissipated, and far too much of the new week still left to go. Otherwise, really just another day. Though "just another day" is in itself such a useless evaluation. Seems like such a waste wouldn't you say?
And as I get forever lost in my own conflicting (polite for hypocritical) philosophies, I should just like to point out that the only real significance of this day is that it is being uploaded on historymatters.org.uk (or some such site) for publication in a mass collection of blogs. While I'd like to think I still have a shot at making my mark in history, might as well avail of this opportunity as it presents itself, and deal with others as they come. Just a 100-600 words though. So need to get all my babbling out somewhere before I begin. And now I'm overcome with this desire to see a brook running over glossy pebbles. Phaw!

Of books
Am working on finishing Nick Hornby's "A long way down". I can't really tell whether it's a fantastic achievement for a book to make me laugh, seeing as the vast majority of what I read is not striving to be on the funny side. But suppressing involuntary giggles in a packed London tube is an exhilarating feeling. Recommended for that alone if nothing else.

Of food
When you're not due to eat a bite till near half-six in the evening, it's possible to desire something mouth watering. Forgotten Marks&Spencer Mint Truffles have a habit of melting into a thick slushy thing. Slurping it is surprisingly thrilling, and the taste is quite a treat too. I can't imagine it looks much civilised though. (Fascinating! I wrote “very civilised” but the omnipotent MS Word believes it should be “much civilised”. It figures I would type it here though; it helps make the standard of my own spellings somewhat ambiguous. But I digress.) Melted chocolate has a way of refusing to go where you want it to.

Of holidays
One, thinking in such deep ways that are available only to the metaphorical "one", may believe it is the easiest thing in the world to ask for a holiday given that this one sits right opposite the granter of such wishes. Unfortunately, there's always that stigma of being denied. And those extra people clicking away around you always savour every last drop of human conversation. So I didn't ask, again. I should have asked two weeks ago but I didn't want it then. I wonder if it's too late to ask tomorrow...

When I evaluated this idea initially, I thought 600 words would be too few to capture an entire day. That’s probably still true. The only thing that’s changed is the realisation that spending two hours packed on trains, several mindlessly surfing the net, and another several doing work that should be confidential even if it isn’t doesn’t leave a lot to tell. Well, there were the tortillas when I got home, to make up for my Truffley friend, but that would just make any reader envious. And why would I want that?

Time shall continue to sweep us along its path, until it ceases to wind and either circles or ends. And the weather shall always confuse and surprise. Things like that. They’ll go on. Others will be lost. Ripples in the ocean, sand in the desert, heat in the arctic. Embracing change is a glorious thing, but there needs to be something so constant that we may measure it against.

Phaw! To ramble is to shatter such an illusion.


...

I think I could end there, and maybe start from of books. It says so much about me really. If nothing else, and both Blogspot and LJ collapse, I could always presumably nudge someone towards the British Library to dig this up. If that's still there of course. Such an assumption! Deary me...

Oh and of course, if I still remember I submitted this as Rayinzar Stormcloud. Because my name, my real name, that's for so many other things. Can't get it mired in the depths of history so early!

My hands are cold and numb. I'd blame the weather, but I won't. I will blame the air conditioning. Blow that in a desert why don't you. Rant *grin*