luco

Speed is like
a dozen transatlantic flights...

without ever
getting off the plane.

Time change.
You lose. You gain.

Makes no difference, so long
as you keep taking the pills.

But sooner or later,
you gotta get out...

because it's crashing,

and all at once
those frozen hours...

melt through
the nervous system...

and seep out the pores.

- from Withnail and I

I am travelling a lot of late i fly four times a fortnight. It engenders a real sense of lethargy. I am, as i write, lying on a bed in a house which is located for all intents and purposes at the end of the world. I spend about four nights here writing, reading, walking, fishing, drinking coffee and consciously not indulging in any indulgences. Tomorrow I will, yet again, fly to humanity and spend the next week in debauched drunkenness and intellectual redundancy. It is a good life I suppose. I shall be in uni in September again which is pleasing but there seems no end to the plodding exuberance of modern living. A day in the wilderness to find oneself, a day in church to find ones soul and a day in the pub to find ones spirits. I do not intend to bitch. My nephew is coming to the UK in a month or so to hang out. I am nervous. I foresee all sorts of unforeseen events. He is a cool kid; a little mixed up it seems but is that not the nail on which childhood hangs? I want to show him a good time but have no clue what he likes to do. He and i are different animals seeking different sport. so i should introduce him to my world and let him see another point of view. However, what if it sucks? rebuked by a drunken sixteen year old is to be the sum total of existence. Maybe i should tell him i am busy. Maybe i should tell him - there is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.