tales from an ordinary world

2000-04-12

"Come back from San Francisco
it can't be all that pretty
when all of New York City
misses you..."
The Magnetic Fields

The old ghostrider takes no prisoners, walking through the dimly lit carpark. A possum does a tightrope act along one of the cable TV wires nearby, its tail hanging vertically as it freezes and looks toward him - he points his fingers at it and clicks his tongue in response.

There's a dull tiredness in my body where a hangover ought to be, after yesterday's "we just released some software so let's party" barbeque. Gin and Tonics on the grass with too many cigarettes, in between my DJing duties.

I ought to concentrate more when I'm playing pool. So many distractions, so many ways to not give it my complete attention. I suppose if I cared more about winning, I'd be able to focus, to take the required time on those difficult shots. But it's just a way for me to unwind. It shouldn't have to matter.

Time for bed. My eyes ache as I try to draw out the messages being transmitted from within. I wish I understood them better. Sometimes I feel uncomfortable as they come out - they twist my body, my head - my vision blurs and my ears ring.

Current listening :

• In Reverse, by Matthew Sweet. Definitely a grower.

• This Nation's Saving Grace, by The Fall.