tales from an ordinary world

2002-06-12

On the tram, in between songs on my headphones, one simple phrase made its way down the tram, seemingly out of nowhere - "i really just don't like my job at the moment." Eventually, I work out who said it, but I just watch her lips move, I don't hear any more words.

The rain stunts my will to walk, but eventually I think of something, somewhere to go, and I play the CD again, recapturing recent sadness, because I am feeling sad, even if I've no idea why. The shops are closed or closing. Shopkeepers haul things back and forth, from their shops out to their parked cars. There's nothing to do on this street, and that's fine, because I don't want to do anything. I don't want to spend money. I don't want to indulge. I don't feel as if I deserve these earthly pleasures. All I can do is walk on. All I should do is walk on.

When I get home, I find that I've received an e-mail from somebody I was thinking of just the other day. He asks for the radio edit of this life, of my ordinary world. I answer with the usual "well, I've been doing this...and this..." thing, but after the e-mail's sent I feel as if I didn't really answer the question. I start reading through my old journal entries, and wonder how I could summarize all of this into something tangible.