Today was a “Me Day”…
Okay, so every day is a “Me Day” but that’s beside the point. I wandered around my house for a while; trying to think up a productive use for the day and out of no-where a sudden desire hit me;
A bubble bath!
Why not? I had time to kill and as most women and many men will admit, bubble baths are a pleasure, which require time to be appreciated. I thought of taking some wine or beer to the tub with me but looking at the time ( about Mid-day) I realized it may be a tad early to start drinking; wouldn’t want my friends calling AA on me.
So there I was, lying in the tub, over-flowing with bubbles. At first I felt like a woman of luxury, I imagined a scene in an old Audrey Hepburn film; that soon faded and very quickly I felt like a small child excited by the bubbles, playing and giving myself a Santa beard.
Some time passed, the novelty wore down and while I lay there listening to the bubbles pop I felt a desire to write. I felt like I needed to write something, anything, it didn’t seem to matter what or whether it would be any good or not. I kept laughing to myself that I wanted to call myself a writer but I never wrote. (The writer who never writes. Ha.) The problem was that I knew that nothing was ever going to come out sitting in the confines of my bedroom, which I’ve taken to calling my cell.
I quickly jumped out of the bath and got myself dressed and ready to go, leaving a trail of bubbles behind me. I grabbed nothing more than a few CD’s, a notebook, pen and my keys and drove without really thinking of where to end up. After a quick trip to my old favourite building, the church in my nearest village (I’m not Christian by the way, I just love this Church) I sadly find the doors locked up and I took a drive to a spot that I felt needed re-visiting. A little lay-by by a river where myself and a number of my old friends used to go when we needed to take some time out from what we thought were the stresses of life and being young; how naive we were.
So I sat in my car and tried to write; the first thing I did was accept that I was NOT going to write a masterpiece, I was out of practice and had little inspiration or thoughts to provoke anything mind blowing; so I just wrote. Now, please don't get this wrong; I grew tired of my terrible poetry/songs long ago but I think I just felt like doing it for the sake of it. The rhyming was basic, the verses were simple but it felt good to create something, even if it was a pile of c**p.
So to conclude; if you're ever stuck in a bit of a rut with nothing to do;
TAKE A BUBBLE BATH!
Now back to the Xbox :)
A segment from what I wrote today;
“For the Writer who doesn’t write,
For the fighter with no one to fight,
For the vegetarian who eats meat,
For the walker with the sore feet,
For the friend you know will never call,
For the friend who seems to know it all,
For the drunk with nothing left to drink,
For the educated who can't seem to think,
For the driver who can’t seem to drive,
For the living who don’t feel alive.
For the Violent Pacifist filled with rage,
Who’s time has passed, who’s lost their age,
For the crying girl who hides her face,
For the lonely ones, who’ve lost their place,
For the burning that has lost its light,
For all the good who've forgotten what's right...
... Believe and walk and laugh and cry,
Before its time,
To say goodbye.
... For the writer with no words left to write,
becomes a fighter with something to fight...”
Images: © Lucas Vale
My recent addiction to this god-forsaken retro game has given me time to think about the development of the gaming world and I have a number of points I’d like to raise.
I honestly believe that AI has not really developed. I swear, stick an army suit on those ghosts and make the world 3d, maybe give Pacman a gun or something and we’d pretty much have any of the games out at the moment. The ghosts have always been smart, they know when you’re weak so they chase you, they know when you’re strong so they run… I’m not even sure if most of the modern games enemies understand that premise.
Next is the intensity of the game. Yes, I understand the graphics lack… well, graphics… and its not really much to look at but I challenge any one to sit and play that game without the same intensity of any Playstation 3 or Xbox 360 game.
Picture it, you’re being chased by 4 alpha enemies through a dark passage, only lit by the tiny balls of light that guide your way. You find your ammo, you’re ready to take them on… but your ammo is limited, in no time at all you’ve made it through the maze, hunted down your prey only to find your ammo gone and once again, the enemy is strong. You run for your life but they’ve cornered you, coming at you from all sides… you accept your fate. Next life.
My last and final point is on the longevity of the game. I have often thought of what makes something retro or stand the test of time and I think I finally understand what created longevity of this game. A game needs to be easy enough to play but impossible to win. Pacman’s controls are simple and can keep you hooked for hours, days, years and apparently decades but I challenge you to complete a game. I have tried and failed over and over again, I’m pretty sure this game will stick around till we’ve evolved into a higher species with bigger brains and faster thumbs that can handle it.
So to conclude, Pacman… I hate bloody Pacman. Stupid ghosts.
I’m going to go play some Pacman now. Wakka Wakka Wakka… Bye. Wakka.
Hi, I’m Leora, Your local unemployed graduate with nothing better to do than write a blog in the hope of entertaining her fellow unemployed graduates and the lucky few who get paid to sit around and stare at other peoples blogs online. Lucky bastards.
So now what to blog about?
Considering my life has spiraled into a world of Xbox, coffee, biscuits and job applications, I don’t really have all that much to talk about. Maybe I should take a moment to think about what has put me into this place I like to refer to as the bottom of the rock… Its fairly dark down here and smells a little bit like the old fat lady you try to avoid making eye contact with behind the counter at your local Tescos.
The reason for my sentence? I’m being punished for thinking that 3 years of hard work and drinking would amount to some sort of career. University is slowly starting to seem like some sort of con created by the alcohol industry to suck young people dry of all their worth and have them shoved into a life time of alcohol related debt. Lets not go into the health related harms of university… my liver and I are happy to live in the La-La land of denial.
Now, after three years of this supposed “education” where can us “educated” types be found? Ah yes, sitting behind counters, standing on shop floors, serving you food or even worse, writing terrible blogs about the life of the unemployed. The one thing that I have thought about over and over is, where do they all go? I rarely meet graduates these days, students yes, but graduates... there must be a secret underground hide-out where they all go and live in a economically stable society.
Don’t get me wrong; I like to be a “glass is half full” sort of person so I’ve decided that we’ll have a positive point of the day. Let me see; ah yes:
On the upside, showering is no longer a necessity.
Anyways, I’ve ranted for long enough so; I’m hoping to start writing these regularly, mainly because staring at walls and wondering how hard I can bash my head against them is starting to ware thin and these should help to pass the time and hopefully keep you fairly entertained. I’m thinking of throwing in some film reviews and youtube links so yeah, go on, subscribe.
Footnote:
Can someone please explain this whole “VAT Reduction” thing to me, I’m not quite understanding how paying 3p less for my underwear and socks is going to make thousands of peoples redundant lives suddenly worth living?
Today was a “Me Day”…
