drunkabout
Sam said something interesting last night…
You seem so much more relaxed since you got back from Tassie.
I posted the following on his LJ from somewhere there, in response to him talking about the large amount of parties there…
... :(
A lack of house parties makes jack a very, very dull boy.
The complete lack of self found in dark only serves to make such dullness worse.
And I guess I do feel different. Maybe I have started. Maybe it has gone away, a little. I’d like to say that I spent the time through some stuff I’ve got from the BSWA But alas, that is not true.
My days consisted of this. Waking around 9am, cursing my hangover, going over my map, drinking a beer & eating left over curry, deciding on a direction that looked interesting, and driving until I had half a tank of fuel, and returning around 4pm.
I would then construct a vindaloo, put it on simmer and going out the back & chop some wood in the snow. By the time I’d carried enough inside, the curry was pretty much done. So I’d have some more wine, settle down, and alternate between staring outside, reading and writing.
It was probably the writing that did it. I bought a nice pen. A really, really cool pen. And a nice book. Writing with nice tools, is rather nice. So I’d write, and write, and I’d drink, and write some more, then eventually get tired and go to sleep.
I’d awake the next morning… And repeat. Without reading anything written previously. Sometimes I’d take my book with me on my drive, sometimes I’d take my camera, sometimes I’d take nothing.
This went on for some… Five days. Then I spent 3 days, reading what I’d written, and writing responses. Elaboration & Clarification.
I met myself. Or at least got close... Closer than I was before. And I’m calling it drunkabout.
You seem so much more relaxed since you got back from Tassie.
I posted the following on his LJ from somewhere there, in response to him talking about the large amount of parties there…
... :(
A lack of house parties makes jack a very, very dull boy.
The complete lack of self found in dark only serves to make such dullness worse.
And I guess I do feel different. Maybe I have started. Maybe it has gone away, a little. I’d like to say that I spent the time through some stuff I’ve got from the BSWA But alas, that is not true.
My days consisted of this. Waking around 9am, cursing my hangover, going over my map, drinking a beer & eating left over curry, deciding on a direction that looked interesting, and driving until I had half a tank of fuel, and returning around 4pm.
I would then construct a vindaloo, put it on simmer and going out the back & chop some wood in the snow. By the time I’d carried enough inside, the curry was pretty much done. So I’d have some more wine, settle down, and alternate between staring outside, reading and writing.
It was probably the writing that did it. I bought a nice pen. A really, really cool pen. And a nice book. Writing with nice tools, is rather nice. So I’d write, and write, and I’d drink, and write some more, then eventually get tired and go to sleep.
I’d awake the next morning… And repeat. Without reading anything written previously. Sometimes I’d take my book with me on my drive, sometimes I’d take my camera, sometimes I’d take nothing.
This went on for some… Five days. Then I spent 3 days, reading what I’d written, and writing responses. Elaboration & Clarification.
I met myself. Or at least got close... Closer than I was before. And I’m calling it drunkabout.