The left one said good morning
The right one said good night
The top one thinks you’re wrong
Whilst the bottom knows you’re right
They seems to know one thing
And guess at many others
They keep a careful watch on us
Mum, dad, sister and brother
As distant as the furthest stars
As close as the skin that binds us
Sophisticated as a limousine
And reliable as a public bus
If they were never in existence
Life would be barren and pointless
No one should ever be without them
They create and elevate stress
They can appear as individuals
Or magnetise into a varied group
Keeping your head on straight
Or sending it through a loop
In every story you’ve ever heard
Been there since the start
What makes the universe spin around
And turns a life into a work of art
Just a quick hello, and let you know the oh so wonderful information surrounding my existence.
My ingrown toenail has inflated the toe to epic proportions, but it no better or worse in general terms so… Yeah.
I’ve started volunteering at a local charity shop; Hospice in the Weald, which is great, I had so much fun and felt like I was actually doing something valuable with my time as opposed to sitting home watching crappy tv shows or playing pointless video games.
Growing very excited about Christmas, only a few more days until I can put up my decorations and jam out to some jingling bells.
Sat in this evening, with a heavy chesty cough and exhausted limbs, watching the film based on the works of Frank Miller; “The Spirit”. One thing I’ve always wished is that I was allowed to read “real” comic books growing up, and as much as I loved Denis the menace, he was no superhero. Granted, it is more the anti-hero image that tends to get the better storyline, but I had so little idea of any of the beauty of the drawn word as opposed to the the written one. I always had a thing for superhero movies, it was through the “behind the scenes” stuff on DVDs that I began to realise the depth from which these characters and narratives were taken.
After watching the movie I turn to the special features, noticing particularly a section called Miller on Miller, a ten minute or so documentary that is Frank Miller talking talking about his history, his personal journey as well as the evolution of comic books and the influence of Will Eisner, his mentor.
Through the entire mini-doc there was never the mention of the arrival of the graphic novel, or the process that took this storyboarded form of storytelling from magazine to book. I have therefore decided to look into it. A mini-project for myself, how one became or rather inspired the other and the impact both have on the stories that we whiteness today.
The wind is good
The wind is bad
It makes you happy
It makes you sad
For a basic element
These words should rhyme
Just for the hell of it
A gentle breeze
On a hot summers day
Helps to relax
Lead out minds astray
A gust of wind
As quick as a shout
Will rip an umbrella
From inside to out
If it weren’t for the leaves
It’d be completely invisible
Yet at its slowest pace
You’ll find it unmissable
It whistles round corners
As if to play host
To a wailing cry
Or maybe a ghost
Come rain or shine
It will always be present
The most British of winds
That can make life so pleasant
I was reminded today of being a child in primary school. I work with children and today we were playing a game of wink murder, a group favourite, during which they had to wait to be chosen to be either a detective or the murder. The leader in charge of the group had instigated a ‘no hands up’ selection process meaning that anyone with their hand up would not get chosen, in which case only good behaviour would be rewarded. It was at this point that every child, regardless of their behaviour up until this moment, sat up straight, legs and arms crossed, faces angelically lit up with potential for being the best behaved child in the room. As though anything that they had previously been told off for doing would be erased or expunged simply for those few seconds of idilic behaviour.
I know how they felt, when I was younger I held a similar opinion. Every week, each class would give out a certificate for exemplary behaviour or a specific achievement and every week I never got one. I was one of the quiet ones, the one who never did particularly well or badly, who never made any waves or noise (aside from “apparently” singing to myself in a quiet classroom) so I never qualified for one of the coveted certificates. However, when it came to sitting in assembly every week waiting to hear who got it, I would sit with the straightest back, most evenly held crossed arms and most decently crossed legs, hoping against hope that if my teacher saw how well I could sit (yes I know) then they might, just might, change their minds about who they should award the certificate to, that although I was quiet and essentially nothing special, academically any way, I deserved some recognition simply because I had good posture and behaved. All through primary school, the only certificate I ever got was one from the head teacher because one Mother’s Day I sent her a “head teachers day” card because I thought it was unfair that head teachers didn’t get a day or much recognition for all the hard stuff they had to do.
When I saw the reactions of the children this afternoon, I was reminded of how important it was to make some sort of good impression, for whatever reason, and the slightest thing can feel like it makes a huge difference when really it makes none at all, but you never really give up hope that the small gestures will one day be met with recognition and a sense of accomplishment, finally getting what we’ve been longing for.
You know how when you used lose the remote, you’d get up, look around for it for ages, moan and fuss about it, all before you’d actually just use the controls on the tv? Well try doing that with televisions today, it’s like programming a supercomputer just to find out what programme’s on next, there are some digital boxes that don’t have any controls on them whatsoever. So the next time someone calls you lazy or ridiculous for not being able to work the tv without the remote, you can tell them where to stick it (once you’ve finished using it)
I’m not looking forward to 4th of February at all, it’s the day that has, finally, been booked to have an operation on my toenail which, believe it or not, is still ingrown and incredibly painful. However upon hearing what the operation consists of and what the healing period is going to be like, I’m almost tempted to just put up with the pain.
They start with injecting local anaesthetic into my toe and tying a tourniquet around it, then cutting out the sides of the nail and cauterising (burning) the nail bed so it doesn’t grow back in that way. There’s no way I’ll be able to support myself without causing damage or considerable amounts of pain for the following few days during which I’m not really allowed to move much and have to keep the foot elevated as much as possible. Following this, I won’t be working or wearing shoes for at least a fortnight so that’ll be two weeks of sitting on my arse feeling bored as hell, and then another couple until it’s properly healed.
Like I said, it’s tempting to just grimace and bare it, despite the fact that given too long I’m afraid I may actually cripple my right foot due to the way I’m walking in it to compensate for the pain.
Stupid, fragile human condition, don’t even get me started on my almost broken wrist and probably fractured ankle, both it which are both more or less year old injuries and yet both continue to give me grief.
I’m starting to think that one day I’ll simply fall apart.