Feel sick. Need a shower. Stupid advent calender. Need to pack. I bet I’ll forget something. Can’t be arsed to go to work. Can’t be arsed to go to the post office. This is gay. I want sleep. Am kinda behind a day in 365 though I do have the shot - it’s a shit shot but I’ll just process the hell out of it.
I keep getting new flickr contacts. That’s a good thing right?
Shower time.
Didn’t get round to processing and uploading my 365 shot :(
Will do it tomorrow, thank god I shot it earlier though.
Can’t wait till weekend away.
Poor.
Had to get petrol and top up my phone - sigh.
Been busy all night with stuffs.
Sigh.
Sleep time.
So today I had my first shift at work.
It was alright, I had a bit of light training which was basically listening as various gallons of information was read out to me. It wasn’t complicated at such, but my main problem is memory - so unless I get use to it then I will tend to forget things like technical terms and such. It’s weird how technical/jargony retail can get.
Here we go, week two, I’m running out of ideas :(
I must have wrote this ages ago, I don’t remember when or why I wrote it. I know I like to keep random stuff in .txt files but I’m digging up some odd stuff on this clear out.
“I think I’ve been here before”
The ground is still warm from the previous night’s footsteps, warm and hard, the dust still clinging in the air, the heavy panting and breathing still sounding into the night.
You have no memory. You wake up and everything before this point is already gone. Gone and faded away. Were you dreaming? You will never know, as the moment has past, and will never cease to be again. The taste of the cold morning air makes your body shudder and sends shivers down the spine.
You don’t remember how you got here.
Maybe you never want to know.
You wake up in this barren wasteland, with nothing but the morning stars for company and that warm salty dust beneath your body; Chalking you with it’s markings and making you wonder did you take a fall or did you lie down?
Retrace your steps.
Retrace your memory.
How far have you travelled?
You slowly get to your feet, the air starts to bite at your skin, harsh and cold a sheer contrast to the tender heat of the ground before. Then you make your first step and a pain shoots up your leg. It catches you so suddenly that you drop to one knee wincing and catching your breath.
Blink hard, try again.
Once more you rise, heaving your aching muscles to work, forcing them into action beyond their feeble capabilities. You take another step and a sharp pain shoots up your spine. You wince but you take another, a third step. Your foot sinking into the dirt marking it with it’s unique image, a footprint deep and clear, well defined but not set. You want to fall again, you don’t want to take another step. Lifting your foot firmly and high it drops and in that moment you shed all your aches and pains. A casing of skin slipping off your back.
There is a trail of footprints in the ground.
You trace the their outlines with the tip of your fingers, they feel warm also, soft and tender, fragile and precious and you wonder how they manage to stay so perfect as they are.
The stars are smiling as you follow the trail, first with your eyes and then your heels. Eventually they break in to run.
I’m currently having one of those moments where I think “Why did I start this sodding task in the first place?” Even though that I know it will be worth it in the end once I’ve finished.
Right at the moment I’m trying put my zillion photos into some organised system. It’s a bit confusing because if I wanted to keep it simple I would just have a folder for each dated set of photos…Right…