It's one of those days where you go through the old. Listening to old albums you shelved after over playing them for weeks on end, appreciating them all over again, with fresh ears. They sound so different now. Looking at old photos abandoned in boxes beneath the bed, trying to put names to faces and reliving the moments with a chinese whisper spin on things.
Boxes full of memories, pieces of paper kept for setimental value at the time but you wonder what the value was. Collections of postcards written by people you haven't seen in 5 years, let alone spoken to, get filed under 'f' for 'forgotten'.
Some could say it's time for a clear out, others - like me - place everything back in the same locations, making the same indentations only to be re-discovered again, to play another game of chinese whispers.
// song at time of writing: Losing My Religion - R.E.M.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Used to have that song running through my mind constantly. Happened on your blog purely at random, but wanted to leave a note (and I will check in from time to time). Good luck with your bookshop job--much better than the supermarket, even if the pay is worse, if you love books. I worked my way through college (long, long, long ago!)working in libraries, and then went on to bookstores (with travel in between, and stints doing whatever came to hand to pay the rent and food). My partner and I have run a smallish used bookstore for many years. Kind of hand to mouth, but we love books.
And whereabouts in Kent are you? I spent a year and a half (again, eons ago) living in Swanley, writing a bad (never published) novel and basking in English air. (well, "basking" might not be the word. It was bitterly cold a lot of the time!)
Post a Comment