(no subject)
Today has been a day so full and yet so empty. Like a man who has been inflated. Or perhaps like a balloon. That is more appropriate, I think. A day that has barely said its first words but is already so world weary, as though it had been forced to read an atlas since the dawn of time with nothing to serve as respite but a dot to dot edition of the A to Z of south London to be retrieved from a uniformed overseer and researcher after a daily 15 minute period. Perhaps he is trying to compile a report that he will present to a room full of powerful men who are interested in such things. I wish him luck. He has been so dedicated to his task. It was such a difficult one. Of course, it would have been lonely; one sympathises with the subject who must trawl through volumes of cartography since the moment of our Universe's conception. Maybe not the conception because he wouldn't exist in a hypothetical Universe. That is even trickier than undertaking this absurd but assumedly valuable research endeavour. None the less sympathy cannot be lauded solely over the poor child atop his kingdom of charts and hardbacks. Though I don't think he'd have that kind of thing at first because it would mean that our planet is as old as our Universe which would be ridiculous.
Might watch Scarface tonight.
Might watch Scarface tonight.