What holiday?

My body clock wants to cry.

Normal service will be resumed, shortly.

Boxing Day Pleasure…

Well, that was it. Church (no fit chicks), turkey (dry and tasteless), TV (boring) and so another end to Christmas.

—

Wow, it was amazing! Great gifts, fun family, fantastic food!

—

But now it is Boxing Day. London will awake from its slumber today and get back down to business. Whatever that is. Or wherever they may go.

It is weird to see Europe’s biggest city devoid of life. Suddenly it is possible to traverse the city in an hour! There are few shops open and in fact, you can get a glimpse of what the city would look like if the stone age hit and a lot of people died off.

—

To be honest, it was great to catch up on some funky tv. Yes, all five hours of it! Well, it is nice to switch off for a while…

—

A but of an event though. Family, friction and frolics.

I frolic too much, don’t I.

—

Honestly, I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and let’s look forward to 2010!

London Diary (9)

(Considering it is Christmas, this is a controversial story to write, but this one has been playing on my mind for a while… remember, this is (mostly) a work of fiction, so don’t get offended – CMD)

‘There has to be something more to this, you know, something after this life when we all…’

I looked up from my packet of chips but he couldn’t finish the sentence he had started. It was an accident, no one blamed him for it. But still, months after it happened his hands shook a little bit too much. His gaze couldn’t hold your own for very long. It was as if he was still reaching out, searching for a reason, fathoming a concept far beyond his own existence.

To be honest, I don’t know how I would have coped with it. As I said, it was an accident, no one blamed him for what had happened. But that does not make it any easier. A sharp sound, a yell from across the road, anything could be a trigger for the memories of that night. The mind is an exceptional tool, us humans have evolved it over millennia. And it can deal with all the traumas of life throws at you. But how does the mind deal with death? The reality of this final destination that we will all reach, maybe tomorrow, maybe many moons in the future. And how does the mind deal with death, when you were its very agent?

‘You know, there has to be a purpose…’

I swallowed the chip. Despite its heat, I didn’t feel it slide down to my stomach. Instead I had to think fast, on my feet. Now what could I say. I didn’t just sympathise with him, he was my friend, we had known each other for years, been through way too much. But I also had to be careful, at this point not to speak entirely what’s on my mind. Something that had got me into a lot of trouble beforehand.

‘Well,’ I started.

He looked up at me. His eyes were filled with a glimmer of hope, but holding back something much more forceful. A torrent of emotion was there, but his mind was struggling to apply some logic to that horrific night.

Come on, I did not believe in jack. Look, in life, you make your own choices. And whatever happens, happens. God does not put his hand down, touch you on the shoulder and ‘whoosh’! Life is life. And then we die. We all die. It is a universal law, just like gravity, or the sun rising in the east. Life and existence continues. One day humans will evolve into something else, and all the hopes and dreams that posess today will be fossilised as coal.

God exists, God does not exist, I can’t prove that and nor do I care! I have bills to pay, I got mouths to feed and I got to turn on the heat. No God has ever put cash in my pocket. My own mind, my own wits have got me to where I am and to be honest that is not very far. After all, it is a Friday night, all I have is bag of chips and a friend looking for answers. Philosophy behind a set of dustbins, and not much else to keep out the cold air.

‘You know, there might be something, for us after this life. There may be an afterlife and some divine reason behind all of this. Then again, there may not be. And everything on Earth, that we experience is a result of human action. There is no guiding hand. Or maybe it is a little of both. I don’t know, the Ancient Greeks and beyond were coming up with the same questions. I guess since man first looked up at the starts, we have all asked the same thing!’

He chuckled.

‘Yeah, I suppose so. We’re trying to answer in a night what no one else has figured out so far!’

He grabbed a handful of chips, and shoveled them into his mouth, his hands still shaking that little bit too much. I had eased the pain for now, and whatever was inside him had subsided. But no matter what, until his dying day, he would always have that horror in his mind. No matter how many times we all told him that it was not his fault, he would still lie awake at night and think, ‘what if?’

He chewed on the hot chips, rapidly gasping as he tried to cool his tongue. It was a chilly night, and the vapours from our lungs filled the air. I looked at him, but he did not seem to notice. Whatever was going on through his mind, I hopefully would never know. But in this life, you are always one step away from death itself…

Merry Christmas?

Bah Humbug.

I am not Christmassy at all.

I have no kids, no future or any prospects, such has been my 2009.

So bah humbug to the debt driven, sour tasting whole event. At least Scrooge had cash, I have very little to celebrate and all I can say to the rest of the festive world is bugger off.

Yes, I may be a Catholic, but I am cheesed off this year, and no amount of carol singing (my charity begins at home – to my broke bank balance), tacky decorations (and the subsequent electricity bill) or lousy presents (I do have an income, I buy what I want, when I want) will make me crack open a smile. There will be the forced smiles on Christmas Day, having to phone family and wish everyone a Merry Christmas. Then the usual food, arguments an make ups. People will nap in the afternoon and I will start my tax form. Bah bloody humbug to the lot. The whole event sickens me.

It has, as I have already mentioned, been a lousy year. Maybe in the future I will look back on 2009 with great fondness, but I doubt it. I am glad to stick up two fingers to this whole year and leave it well behind. No amount of joyous celebrations, nor amount of forced dancing is going to make me change my mind.

So Merry bloody Christmas.

Happy frigging New Year.

I am not in a good mood, hell, I am in a foul mood. And I am not optimistic about the future. For myself that is, not the fate of humanity. Such is the structure of the human mind, what is in your own back yard is far more important than the wider world. And so, while I have my health, and I am not in debt, there is really nothing else to celebrate.

Grrr…

Back Home (3)

‘Money talks.’

Some people do not bother visiting their relatives at Christmas, nor do they buy a stack of presents to post back home. That does not mean that they do not love their family, far from it. But, for them, love is not expressed by showing up and eating nor is it shown by a stack of gifts arriving in the post. Instead, it is shown by money being wired home.

Now there are a variety of ways to send remittences. Through a bank or for those that do not want their cash to be traced, through the many companies set up to send and receive cash over thousands of miles (for an extortionate fee). Billions are sent around the world at this time. Mainly by men. That is not to say that women do not send money back home, they do. But they also do the other things, like visit and send presents. Men just send cash. It is easier than shifting luggage around or waiting at the post office. And they also know exactly what the relatives back home love. Cash.

So back to the quote at the beginning of this post. ‘Money talks’

This year, I have ququed up at the post office and sent money back to the family. Unfortunately, I have not jetted off somewhere exotic, but there is always next year…

Back Home (2)

‘There are a lot of queues at the post office.’

Some of us can’t go back home in person. We can’t get time off work, we believe that we have important existences here in London, we have no cash to spend once we head off this wintry isle. And as we cannot join our loved ones, we head to the post office, to deliver the ma piece of our love. Usually the gifts aren’t that expensive. After all, with China producing everything we need for a song, and availability being worldwide, our gifts have to have more imagination than just this lousy t-shirt.

And so back to the quote at the top of this post. ‘There are a lot of queues at the post office.’ And it mainly women who are queuing at the post office. Sure there is the odd guy, scratching his head, but the vast majority of punters are women, with gifts galore, a stack of cards and a lot of patience while the queue inches forward endlessly. I also feel sorry for the guys behind the counter as well as the thankless tasks of the postie. But I wonder what’s in those presents being posted far and wide. Cakes, jumpers, liquor?

Oh well, curiosity will have to be satisfied by imagination for now…

Back Home (1)

‘There are a lot of suitcases about in London town.’

Now, let me clarify that statement. It is Christmas. And despite the best wishes of many, it is a time that people want to spend with their families. Some jet off home to loved ones, other take a tube from North London swank pad to South London suburban family home. Whatever. But now is the time that people head off home. It started this weekend, waiting in the cold, shivering away, annoyed that they had forgot to pack their gloves, waiting for a nightbus to take them to Heathrow (for the long distance jaunts), Victoria Coach Station (for those prepared to slog it by coach across Britain and Europe) or up to Liverpool Street (and onto lo-cost Stanstead). Some of these guys are light packers, others are lugging very heavy weights. The bulk of them are women as well. Interesting that.

Does that mean that women are more homebound than men? Probably not, but they are more likely to put up with the vagrancies of late night public transport in the city.

So let me get back to that first statement, ‘there are a lot of suitcases about in London town’.

And I wonder what is in them. After all, few will be leaving London for good, but they seem so…alluring. I have an inquisitive nature at heart and I would love to know what are the essential things for two weeks (without the graphic details), just a hint of intimacy at what women pack for two weeks to spend with mama, papa and the rest of the family back home. After all, it could have been many months since their last visit, so what is in the suitcase. Gifts for all, lots of underwear, a good book, liquor?

Oh well, curiosity will have to be satisfied by imagination for now…

‘Life’

I am a space geek. It is quite clear to anyone who has read this blog in the past that I am a big Sci-Fi buff. I also love the thought of exploring, I am a great traveller if I may say so myself. Of course, this love of Sci-Fi and travel leads to only one conclusion. The ability to explore space and to nail and alien chick!

Seriously though, I really do believe in humanity’s reach for the stars. It is not something that will happen in my lifetime, but there will be a time in the future when traveling beyond the confines of our Solar System to live , work and play on far flung planets will be as easy as it is for us today traveling around this globe. Of course it will take a huge leap in technology if we are ever to achieve this goal. We also need a destination. So far, most of the extrasolar planets discovered have been huge fiery balls of gas, completely unsuitable for human habitation. But there is one that has very recently been found, a Super Earth, that could possibly have water on its surface. No one claims that there are little green men (or hot alien chicks) living on this world, but scientists are getting closer to discovering a possible twin for us minute Earthlings…

Bicycle Diaries – Dec ‘09

This morning, while cycling back from work, London had its first taste of freezing temperatures. In fact I got -2C on the bus’ thermometer. Not exactly the Arctic, but definitely nippy. And all the remaining puddles were frozen solid. Also took the cycle ride a bit slower this morning. You could feel the frost on any smooth surface and it was a little unnerving to say the least.

Now I am fully wrapped up when on the bike. The gloves have been on and off since October, the scarf on since November and now the hat is on, under the helmet to keep my bald palette warm. Need to start wearing thermal socks with my boots too! Also tightened the brake cables as I need to make sure I can stop the cycle in time. Roll on March and the promise of warmth and more daylight!

Caution Wet Paint – A look back at 2009…

I rarely double post, but this was an imprtant comic strip that I decided to also publish on this blog too…

View all

Get your own

This is quite a personal comic strip. It has been a tough 2009 for CWP, but rather than blog about it, I decided to illustrate it. The big question I am asking myself is ‘what do I do next?’

And to be honest, I do not know…

A look back at 2009