White skies. Sunny yesterday. Was it though? Can't remember. Oh yes. A walk to the shops and that was all - cold wind. Cold air.
Couldn't sleep last night. Dreams kept me awake. Can't remember any now.
Monday, 28 April 2014
Monday, 10 March 2014
Farewell to Bridge 39
I think the end might be approaching for Bridge 39 - though I have said this before of course (or at least thought it - see this time over 2011).
It's hard to explain why, but every time I come here, or think about coming here to write something (rare these days) it is with a sense of superstitious dread. It feels as if the blog has become haunted. Apt really, for a blog concerned mostly with ghosts (of both the literal and metaphoric kind). There is also a sense of everything here belonging too much to the past somehow. Bridge 39 belongs to the me that was 37 - 41. I'm 42 this month.
Time passes.
A bright sunny day outside. The first warm / hot days of this year. I hear the banging from the workshops below. Em, now back from Greece, is sitting at the table eating toast.
The sunlight reminds me of Joe Bird's house in Worcester, over that May weekend in 2010 when I got made redundant. I remember the dusty, dreamy smell of the dining room, I remember the velvety nights somehow more infinite and older than those in Brighton, I remember the overgrowth of plants, cow parsley, weeds, as we passed by one of those buildings near the Commandery.
Yes, I think this may be the end for Bridge 39, and if not forever, then at least for a considerable period of time.
We shall see.
It's hard to explain why, but every time I come here, or think about coming here to write something (rare these days) it is with a sense of superstitious dread. It feels as if the blog has become haunted. Apt really, for a blog concerned mostly with ghosts (of both the literal and metaphoric kind). There is also a sense of everything here belonging too much to the past somehow. Bridge 39 belongs to the me that was 37 - 41. I'm 42 this month.
Time passes.
A bright sunny day outside. The first warm / hot days of this year. I hear the banging from the workshops below. Em, now back from Greece, is sitting at the table eating toast.
The sunlight reminds me of Joe Bird's house in Worcester, over that May weekend in 2010 when I got made redundant. I remember the dusty, dreamy smell of the dining room, I remember the velvety nights somehow more infinite and older than those in Brighton, I remember the overgrowth of plants, cow parsley, weeds, as we passed by one of those buildings near the Commandery.
Yes, I think this may be the end for Bridge 39, and if not forever, then at least for a considerable period of time.
We shall see.
Sunday, 19 January 2014
October Rust
I bought Type 'O' Negative's album 'October Rust' right back in early September 1996, just before I started Worcester University. I liked some some songs but never really got into it. I kept trying every now and again to 'get into it' properly, and always fail... But I keep thinking I will get into it properly. I'm listening to it now, still trying to get into it. As it has, this year, been 18 years since I first bought the album, you really would think I would have learned my lesson.
Apparently not.
Apparently not.
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