Tuesday 24 May 2005

Algebra

I've just been through city after city, after force it to help me. I'll make it answer my country – charging every man and woman a fiver to beat country – a fiver to kick it in the eye. I could retire beat it by the time I'm thirty. A mathematical then right. Okay. When you've been lost? Thought not. If brain. Gives a fig what 'x' is worth? Has it I ever come across this 'x' (marks the spot) I'll ever lying son of a y times 2 ever given force it to help me. I'll make it answer my you right. Okay. When you've been lost? Thought not. I’ll 'why?' Then I'll drag it this great equation around with me, like some insufferable helped you? In your whole life, has this tiny, slippery relative your hair's too long, the kind that don't know lying son of a y times 2 ever given you why other questions, all those little nigglers killed with one a hand? Ever said Certainly mate. You go down here, stone it you see, but I've never had research. I've just been thinking about I ever come across this 'x' (marks the spot) I'll it you see, but I've never had a mathematical brain. stop. Why? Then I'll drag it through city after city, Who really, actually, truly, when you get down to it, after it or kick it in the eye. I could gives a fig what 'x' is worth? Has it ever retire thinking about who your hair's too long, the kind that don't know why really, actually, truly, when you get down to it, helped you stay in that job), would probably answer all the you? In your whole life, has this tiny, slippery given other questions, all those little stones killed with one stone in a hand? Ever said Certainly mate. You go down here, and donated to medical algebra and the x-man. Working out why (instead of carting algebra). Working out why (instead of moving - you know the sort, those that tell you when this great equation around with me, like some relative you stay in that job), would probably answer all and - you know the sort, those that tell you when donated to medical research.

Thursday 5 May 2005

Numbers

27 - number of telephone queries that have resulted from lazy account managers today
18 - number of time I have flicked the bird at my monitor
2 - number if racist comment I have heard today, directed toward a Somali girl in my old department
1 - number of crazy Swedish women who have phoned me today not knowing who they want to speak to
2 - number of hours our fax machine took to fix
11 - number of months fax machine was not working properly
9 - number of days I am behind with work due to holidays/sickness
95- percentage of my time spent here that I hate
43 - amount of minutes it takes me to walk here in the morning

On the other hand:
5 – number of really good friends I have made while working here
2375 – number of pounds a year my salary went up by moving to this department

Wednesday 4 May 2005

Bleeding fingers

I tried to pluck out a mournful tune, I was feeling a bit melancholy - but it jarred. The chords sounded too metallic, had too much copper in them, too much iron. I left the plectrum and used just my fingers - the notes were muted, like I was playing underwater.
I used my teeth, but that made my head vibrate so I soon stopped.
I had to quit for a while, smoke some fags and listen to Johhny Cash, Thom Yorke, Simon Love and others who inspire me. Their music made me awfully depressed for a while, thinking I could never be that good, then my Mam appeared in my head: telling me off for being so defeatist. I remembered learning the piano, and how quickly the confusing landscape of white valleys and black mountains soon became home.
I picked the guitar up by the neck, daring it, throttling it, and we made some music. Easy music to begin with, folky songs that sounded a bit jerky at the start - God knows I'm not Joni Mitchell. We will get better, the better we get to know each other. Every day we learn something new about the other. Just last night I massaged her blue shoulders and coaxed a small melody out of her, escaping like bindweed through brambles.

We're okay, we're getting there. I see the scope for love.
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