Past

As tragedy is becoming more apparent around us, I wonder where the values of we humans really is. What becomes more worthless? The pound - or the extra day someone is given to live?

From the start, none of us where given any promises except one.

That it would end.

Not even, 'Your beliefs will be correct.' Having others with religions and convictions surely puts a doubt into our lives about how the Universe's order is played out.

The past is coming up more frequently. Working in a cinema that the majority of Belfast visit has seen me face many people from my past.

Am I nervous?

Only once. When I mistakenly saw someone who turned out to be someone incredibly different.

If anything, seeing these people, whether I like them or not, has been fun. I'm able to recall small memories. Skills in various aspects can be seen, by my own self, to have improved. It becomes apparent that I have had a history in Belfast. There's a texture in my life that is continuously being added to.

So without promises, what's there to look forward to? Not quite sure. The next book I suppose. A lifeline I'm grateful for. There will be others. Such as seeing scenarios that allow me to smile and hopefully make others smile to. Not so much a promise. More of a goal.

A blog helps me place thoughts up and to make sense of the world. A trick no real line of thought will sort out in a hurry.

Television and the Dying Sanity

The amount of television consumed in my household is unreal. And none of it's really valid, or even consumed properly. My family spend their time making up what they can with tail ends and segments of dramas and films they've already seen before.

Which is why I'll be heading to the library soon enough. Flicking through various radio dramas has done me well. But the walk should eliminate the calories I've been playing with lately.

And the poetry should resurrect braincells. The ones I've lost after exposure to the woman's magazine type material on the box.

Surely it won't be like this forever. Not for me anyway.

Just Say No

Too many people depend on me.

They really shouldn't.

If only for selfish reasons.

Two jobs are demanding. One is tired, and will be more so when one job insists on trying to squeeze more hours out of the day. The other can hassle me at short notice - and I'm learning to say a two letter word to them.

'You're a creative soul,' said Peter, one of my co-workers. 'You need to have time to...do stuff.'

I nodded in agreement.

This up and coming week I'll spend time looking in the mirror, practising how to say that one word. Only that'll have to wait. There's homework and sleep to attend to. The latter will not be fulfilled.

Coffee is my friend. Books I want to be closer to, but must leave it. Some time off would be nice. Though one thinks of the money I'm saving. Surely it'll be worth it.

New Year

Why business sees opportunities on New Year's Day is great. The little time I have free becomes much smaller. It means that the work hours I carry out are extended and that my sleeping pattern sees no return to a healthy state.

And another episode of Come Fly With Me tonight which I'll miss. And when I return to find it recorded, I'm not sure I'll have much of an attention span to sit through it.

With a brother who drinks and snores, disturbing my sleeping pattern and two jobs to attend - it's a wonder I'm still alive.

This year could be my last.

Book lovers never go to bed alone

Funny how I return to books I've read before. To gobble up as many titles in my life has been seen as an achievement I must gain. Do I actually take the time to absorb the novels I read? It's quite possible that the more times I read a particular title, the more I gain from it.

This week I finished off Terry Pratchett's Mort. A book I've read several times. Each time I get through it quicker than the last. Each time I pick up elements I didn't previously.

Like The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy I laugh every time I read various Pratchett books.

Also this week I took a look at my book shelf and had a small rush of thoughts which I can only see returning. A question arose.

Am I using novels to replace the lack of a possible love in my life?

Anyone who knows me is bound to be tired of the tales concerning me and Dark Lords who feed upon my naivety. It was around May 2009 when I decreed;

'I'm staying away from boys for a long time'. Even though they were just my attempts at gaining a relationship, it was certainly an activity that I kept up. But putting forward a statement such as that above, I knew there'd have to be something else to fill the void. In this case, it was books.

I'm lucky. I know books are valuable, a treat, a luxury, a source of joy and even comfort. However, of late I wonder if I'm giving each title the right recognition. So many would agree with me that to sit for a few hours on end and read a novel would be a luxury that is both free and difficult to obtain. Trying to find that amount of time to read is hard.

With two jobs I manage to get around eight pages on a bus ride, feeling that I'm in a bigger Capital City than Belfast really is. One remembers seeing commuters in London reading on their way down the escalator, no doubt them squeezing an extra few words in the thirty seconds it takes them to reach the platform.

With the coming up year I promised myself not to be swayed by what everyone else is reading, and what dominates the best seller list only because half of them are showing in cinema screens. What I read will be done so at my discretion. Hopefully this will be a step to appreciating the words and stories that novelists wanted to be read.

I suppose what I worry about is the fact that there's no human connection - that I don't have that 'someone'. I'm much better at handling it now. In fact there are times when I smile that I haven't got 'someone', because if I did, I think of all those books I won't be able to get through.

Does that make my soul yearn for something more certain?

It won't surprise you to know that at the end of the day, when I slip between my two duvet covers, I'll always have whatever book I'm reading sitting in between my pillow and digital radio. Books seem a fair substitute for what I've been denied. And in that respect, I try to count myself lucky.