You Would Not Be A (maze) d...Just Relaxed

Having no Internet, finding that the local library is open fewer hours than is good for the community, and having no expendable income presents all kinds of problems with what to do with my spare time.

After playing guitar so much that my fingertips actually started bleeding it was time to find something else to do, probably much to the relief of my neighbours who must have been sick of hearing the same scales, ascending and descending, over and over.

The weather was good enough to take a walk, over the fields and through the woods, to the park on the edge of town. In the park lies a true labyrinth, rather than a maze.
It's incredibly relaxing, walking to the centre, more relaxing than walking around a maze, getting lost as the light runs out. You know exactly where you're going, you're on a journey to the path's end. And I guess life is like that, we're all heading towards the end. What the end holds is different for all of us, and some will reach it sooner than others.

Plot 17 Update

What is Plot 17?

Plot 17 is a place where we can all go to. We can go there alone, or we can go there together. Even when we are alone, we are not truly so.

Plot 17 is a place of outstanding beauty, a place where peace and joy transcends even that of Utopia. The significant becomes insignificant and the insignificant becomes significant.

Plot 17 is a place where the flowers are always in blossom but without causing hayfever. The trees are always green and the rivers and brooks run unpolluted.

Plot 17 is a place where the birds whistle the most beautiful tunes that not even the greatest of composers could compose.

Plot 17 is a place free from badness and decay.

Plot 17 is a place where you can look to right now. If you'd like to go all the way (and I don't mean have sex - well, not unless you're a very attractive lady or a very rich one, or better, both, am I being shallow? It's okay, I'm kidding...possibly) after listening to the first minute of my track, let me know in comments. I need some inspiration to get the final three minutes mixed down.

Clear Blue

Something happened today. Of course, something happens every day, but something happened today.

A Full English Breakfast is only ever "full" if served with Black Pudding. And I woke to the smell of this treat being cooked. That smell alone adjusted the various chemicals in my brain to "normal" levels, making me feel balanced for the first time in months. But that's not what happened.

Making my way into the kitchen my eyes hurt from the sunlight which poured in, bouncing off of every reflective surface, washing away every bit of dark and gloom, bringing warmth and that special feeling we all get from time to time.

Today was the day when I could do anything. Well, not anything. Obviously I couldn't fly to the moon or bring about world peace by the mere act of releasing a pop record featuring best selling artists, but I could do anything within my means.

It was the first clear blue sky I had seen months. After yesterday's rain it seemed like Sunday might be another washout. But it wasn't.

After eating breakfast I washed my host's pots, as a way of thanks, and headed out. This was great. No signs of anything bipolar. No manic feelings, nothing depressive, no lithium washout. Today I was going to do something different.

I had no particular direction to head in, not even home. And besides, that isn't really my home, just somewhere to rest my head and store my things. So, I just went wherever my legs would take me.

Before I knew it I had passed through woods, walked through open fields, almost got trampled on by a cow (not the first time this has happened - cows seem to be getting aggressive these days), and I was by the canal.

There were many fishing the waters and as I passed each fisherman (there were no women fishing) I wondered how many times that day they would be asked if they'd caught something, and how they might react each time to that question, whether they would find it frustrating, or whether they'd indulge themselves by pulling the keep net from the water and showing off the products of their day's "labour."

Soon I was back on the road and passed by a park where there was a Sunday league football match. Most of the players looked hungover and some of them looked too old and fat to be running around for 90 minutes. I thought about how many times I'd read about people having massive heart attacks while playing Sunday league football. Still, if you die doing what you enjoy...

Looking at my watch and noting how long I'd been travelling away from where I ought to be ending up I decided to head back. But then changed my mind.

I wasn't too far from an important piece of engineering history. Engineering has a lot to answer for; some of it good, some of it bad. But for the most part, good. Humans were designed to be engineers, it's just that we got some of it wrong. It's not too late to put things right.

Something happened today. But I can't remember what it was. Something to do with the clocks?

Kitchen Art...or...

...Utter Bollocks?

Power Weed

Or is that PowerWeed?

Either way, it's the latest name for the stronger variety of cannabis plant formerly known as skunk. Some people are saying that skunk is still skunk and that this PowerWeed is a new and even stronger strain.

But why are people obsessed with stronger all the time? Stronger beer, stronger spirits, stronger heroin - you get the idea.

There seems to be a need to get as wasted as possible as soon as possible on whatever your choice of substance. Lately, people are choosing PowerWeed. Where does this desire to achieve vegetable-like being come from? Is it because of a need to escape? Is it the only true way we can enjoy ourselves? Is it a path to creativity?

Is there moderation in everything? Yes. But whether we choose to moderate it or not is another thing.

One thing I do know is this: PowerWeed and beer do not mix. Trying to get home recently, after a session I was cajoled into (though some would say my arm didn't take much twisting), presented serious problems since I developed an overwhelming fear of crossing the road and spent close on three hours walking around the block, breaking frequently to sit on the pavement (pavement as in sidewalk, rather than road) before I could pluck up courage to get across the road.

So, you want to give me some free PowerWeed? No thanks, you can keep it.

Link: http://weedseedshop.com/New_Purple_Power_0.html