The key turns the lock, the lock turns the key
Keep walking till it turns yet another mile
I checked the papers, wondered, is this really me
This time it's serious, another dead black file
Black or brown? The choice created even more traffic jams. Chilly and full of slippery wet snow, I needed something to keep me warm. I checked the time, already late, even more so if the car wouldn't start from the temperature drop. Black it was. Grabbed the stale croissants off the table, after all, nothing is worse than something.
I drove off skidding a bit, stuffing flakes and cream into my mouth and trying to sing along to 'The Wanderer'. Quite a song to put on air in the morning. Really, what am I doing here?
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
1st August
Quake measured 5.7 on the Richter scale.
First day of the month, it's never awesome. The inevitable enticing grip of the black leather chair embraced me in a trance; the lovely act of recline. We waste much time sitting there hating work, but just won't quit. The calculator is a quite accomplishment for the unordinary man. I locked myself in a deadly war of mathematics and mental intelligence with the small square piece of metal, plastic and numerous numbers, trying to outwit the numerical master. Turned out I lost 50 - 0. I flopped out exhausted on the comforting chair, but was quick to realise it wasn't as comfortable as I hoped it would be. I lost to Mr.Calculator. Incredible how small an mechanism can outsmart you on any occasion. Humiliation. And they said I was smart.
I head back to the shoppe for a small snack. My shoes have a yellow tint and begin to wonder, "Now where did that come from?"
Small price for a hard days work.
Pops always did say:
"Foocking Toosday."
First day of the month, it's never awesome. The inevitable enticing grip of the black leather chair embraced me in a trance; the lovely act of recline. We waste much time sitting there hating work, but just won't quit. The calculator is a quite accomplishment for the unordinary man. I locked myself in a deadly war of mathematics and mental intelligence with the small square piece of metal, plastic and numerous numbers, trying to outwit the numerical master. Turned out I lost 50 - 0. I flopped out exhausted on the comforting chair, but was quick to realise it wasn't as comfortable as I hoped it would be. I lost to Mr.Calculator. Incredible how small an mechanism can outsmart you on any occasion. Humiliation. And they said I was smart.
I head back to the shoppe for a small snack. My shoes have a yellow tint and begin to wonder, "Now where did that come from?"
Small price for a hard days work.
Pops always did say:
"Foocking Toosday."
Monday, July 31, 2006
31st July
Langbork, 6-1.
The streets were raw, so was the chicken-mayonaise sandwich that cost a dollar 25. Hood suited the chilly morning, but how much can a bit of cloth cover at such a time when the chills go deeper than usual? I mused that the monday morning seemed every bit a 'monday morning'. Worse, i've had of late, and I confirmed with my social adviser that it was indeed a 'monday morning'. The chevy had a clamp on the back tire, made everything a tad bit annoying.
I took the bus to work.
Here I quote:
"If only this ride could last forever, thinking of the small things that went on for the past 21 years, going on till I come to un-peraly gates."
The morning papers were boring, so was Daisy. She looked like cattle ran over.
The streets were raw, so was the chicken-mayonaise sandwich that cost a dollar 25. Hood suited the chilly morning, but how much can a bit of cloth cover at such a time when the chills go deeper than usual? I mused that the monday morning seemed every bit a 'monday morning'. Worse, i've had of late, and I confirmed with my social adviser that it was indeed a 'monday morning'. The chevy had a clamp on the back tire, made everything a tad bit annoying.
I took the bus to work.
Here I quote:
"If only this ride could last forever, thinking of the small things that went on for the past 21 years, going on till I come to un-peraly gates."
The morning papers were boring, so was Daisy. She looked like cattle ran over.
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