…have some of the Notes I found on my phone.
Rob says: “PESSAMIST: DIFFICULT IN EVERY OPPORTUNITY.
OPTOMIST: OPPORTUNITY IN EVERY DIFFICULTY”
(I love him but he can’t spell).
I wonder what of the music being made now will stand the test of time:? I have a theory that by and large the music that hits the charts now from less popular genres has broken through that particular barrier so maybe they will last?
(As you might have guessed the time stamp on this one is definitively the wee hours).
I have actually developed a minor crush on that last guy becuase he takes photos of his pets and flowers :S !
Renegade Brass Band.
(talking to H at photosoc one night. Well, writing her a note, anyway).
Some kind of emotional dive bar I crank out the same feelings like cheap spirits or piss-weak beer in seedy profligacy. Discounts and doubling up so you get twice as much cliche for your cash and could drown your wretched face in the brine spilling from my eyes.
I imagine my heart skittering across a tiled marble floor – black and white, Italian, leaving a trail of shining scarlet blood, gappy, clotted, lumps and gouts and thin translucent trails between, and the toe of your shoe as you walk away, red on brown leather, pointed, shining.
(Jenny goes all emo ‘n’ ting).
‘Course you’re not, you’re not scared of anything. Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of box, man eats fish custard!’
(The first episode of the latest series of Doctor Who. As if you didn’t know).
“…and every time we did it, it was destroying me inside…”. X’s testimony. Sex. Guilt. Oh, help.
Stressed is Desserts spelled backwards.
Random Man At Bus Stop: What he’s looking at is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, yet he can’t quite believe it and however much he loves it it hurts his eyes as it – she? – and now (if I ever wasn’t) I am extrapolating wildly, from my mute seat here in this bus in the slowly waking springtime heart of the city – walks towards him. The end. The beginning. Chapter One.
(Please tell me I’m not the only one that makes up stories about the people I see waiting for buses/on trains/on other journeys?)
You are the person that I love most that I’ve ever met. Shofolk sandals, £125.
(No, I don’t know either. I think one’s a quote from what is quite unreasonably one of my favourite books, and one is, well, shoes).
The rest of my notes are excruciatingly dull, the end.