You know those moments, especially for shy people, those moments where you feel brave enough to attempt a joke, and it just goes so completely wrong and so completely how you didn’t picture it, and in your head it was kind of funny and well thought out but when you go to say it it backfires completely, and you forever after regret the moment you thought you’d try to be clever, and the room is silent, and you vow to never make a joke again and to live life as a mute, and in recognition of the Worst Joke Ever the ground is opening up to swallow you whole, and you don’t bother to stop it because you kind of deserve it for that travesty of a joke, and the world kinda stops and spontaneously combusts in recognition of your awkwardness-
Kieran was just trying to get to sleep again last night when I started in with one of my Late Night Let’s Discuss Confusing Stuff things, and basically squished any hope he had of going to sleep. I was thinking about when the people in books and movies say something like “I wish I could get out of my own head”, “I’m fed up of being me” or just generally describe that feeling you get when you have the same thoughts bouncing around incessantly inside your head and can’t get a break from it, and can’t get a break from yourself, and I started in with that. People want some kind of transcendental method to get away from your own head and your own style of thinking. Yet if you were actually able to get a break from your own head, and hypothetically, you were able to take your mind or soul or whatever it is that makes you you, and get inside someone else’s, and put it there, and live inside their head for a day, seeing life as they saw it and thinking things as they did, it still wouldn’t be a break from yourself. You would merely be taking a backseat in someone else’s mind and viewing their thought processes, but again as yourself. Still you, just watching someone else’s mind. The only way to truly get a break from yourself would be to be that person, to exit your mind and be instead that other person, to be an entirely new mind. Yet that still wouldn’t be a break from yourself as if you actually became someone else for a day, by definition you wouldn’t be yourself anymore, you would not be you, you’d exit yourself and physically and mentally be someone else, and when you regained your own mind, you’d have no recollection of ever leaving it and being someone else.
Basically to bring this random ramble to an end,
Got this slightly threatening promise through the letter box without warning, think perhaps it could have been worded better…
Recently it’s been slightly less freezing and slightly more lukewarm temperature in Plymouth, so sure enough I immediately turned the shade of hot-pink boiled lobster. If you don’t believe me, behold:
Excuse the shiny glazed look of the legs, I moisturised them to within an inch of their life, since I had been waddling around like some crazed old crone because of the soreness. Just to reiterate, here’s Kieran looking gorgeously tanned:
And here is my boiled-traffic-cone beacon of a leg, brighter than the sun and terrifying passers-by: