Tuesday, February 03, 2015

There’s something missing


It would appear that overnight we have started commuting in the daylight. I can see what it is we are swiftly passing by. As a whole I enjoy going to work on the train now. It is relaxing when you get a seat. And most of the time on the way to work I do get a seat so that is nice.


I’m still reading Generation A and like Generation X, I’m not finding it a page turning read. This book is odder. The story was there somewhere in the background of generation X, afterall it wasn’t the story that was important but what the back rampt on about so much. This book I’m lost with, if there is a story its not there, or I’ve missed it, we are just voyaging with five people, random people, who are not so random I guess but is that what is too come? I truly don’t know, and I truly don’t care. I read on though as the non existent story has become a book of stories, stories made up by the characters, stories that are odd but with some mind blowing meaning I have yet to discover or understand.


Of course not every journey on the train is as good as I make out, and two nights on the run the train has turned up at Thame Bridge Parkway with only two carriages. When the doors opened as the person next to me said “the hucking kunts this company, just get worse”. It was tough to get on and once on I prayed the doors would not open. At Walsall people wanted to get off but couldn’t. Hell I was filling the door, now squished out flat and as wide as the door. The faces of horror of the people wanting to get on a Walsall said it all. Eventually we get off, so that people can get off, and then get on, whilst others get on.


And somehow I have managed to get a seat both time. The first time I offered the free seat to an elderly lady who insisted I had it, she insisted say”I’ve sat down all day anyway” I smile a thankful smile and then look out of the window, the window I fear.


Back at home I sit in retro room, consider its plaster, what I’m going to do with myself, what is for dinner and put on Roseanne. Retro comdey for the retro room.


My retro magazine has arrived and within it is a Sega Game Gear article. As things go this is a random untimely KLF act of the non existent God.


I reach for the first game I ever had for the PS1. I lie to you but we will continue anyway, I insert wipeout, the original and wait to cringe. But its good, its tough and I play away for some time, it beating me, over and over again. I slowly work through the series of Wipeout games and consider that this one room is missing something, something important. I leave the room.


When I come back I have something yellow in my hand. I plug it in and put it down. This one hasn’t been used for some time.


Now this is nice, this is my own retro world.

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"Nowhere Near The End Of the Rainbow"
contains information that is non-accurate, made up and in some cases just down right lies. Anything in this blogg may be based on true fiction but to help dramatise it, some items may have been embellished. Some names are made up, others are not and any that are familar to yours just are.





 Near The End Of The Rainbow

An account of something that may one day turn out to be wonderful.......