Once upon a time, a young boy with bad hair and an urge to read sat at his dining room table, littered with scraps of crackers and pieces of turkey, and thought about the future. He thought where he would be in a few years time, he thought what kind of Christmas he would have when he was older and had his own house, he even thought about life. Years later, at the same table, with better hair and more of an urge to write, the same boy thought about the same thing. He listened to Coldplay's 'Christmas Lights', sipped a glass of wine, glanced at the watch he had received for Christmas - 'nerdy watch' as his sister called it - and wrote about his thoughts. He heard his mother in the kitchen preparing the food, listened to crackle of the fire, glanced at the lights of the tree and thought "where are we going to be?" He thought it for a whole two seconds because the answer was obvious, "we don't know, we never know, and that's the fun of it." He thought that he would enjoy his dinner and read his book and maybe watch a film with his niece, and he would wait and see what was to happen, rather than sit and worry about it. He would ponder but not ponder too much. Enjoy and look out for the new blogtastic mayhem that is to come in the New Year!
Once, I stood on the top of a mountain and looked. I saw the sun setting, I saw the blue and pink sky, I saw lights fighting their way against the colours, I saw cars whipping past, people going about their lives. What didn't I see? The confusion. I didn't see the confused people, struggling. That's something none of us see, or choose not to see. Once, I sat at my desk and looked out of the window. It was night and there were lights. I didn't see much but I thought about much. I thought about what makes good stories and good novels. I thought about what wins awards and wins prizes. I thought about what it means to love and be loved. My mind, as of late and as of current, thinks about food, alcohol, writing, books, the future and love. I'm sure some of these things fall into the same categories and others just stand alone. Alone. Something all of us feel but never really are. What a random post, you think. What is this? An attempt at a poem? No. This is me sitting in my living room, against the twinkling Christmas tree, listening to Admiral Fallow and thinking how I shall, in the new year, continue with this blog, my neglected, abused blog that contains my thoughts, my experiences, my dreams and my imagination. The weird and wonderful world of it.