Anthony is typing …

  • When did this happen?

    “I will do” in place of “could I have”?

  • Down-is-up/nostalgia/Billy.

    Castles In The Sky by Ian Van Dahl induces the strongest feelings of nostalgia in me, more than any other song. It brings me to the verge of tears. I can’t explain why, or I don’t want to explain why. I have to limit how often I listen to that song because I’m afraid it will lose its effect on me if I overplay it. I don’t think I do that with any other song.

    Nostalgia seems to be the most unique feeling. More beautiful than any other feeling, I think, if it is a particularly strong hit that you get – one that feels as though you’re really being transported back in time. The kind that Castles In The Sky gives me. I thought a bit about nostalgia today.

    I was thinking about nostalgia, and how privileged I feel to experience it whenever it shows up. It’s a bit like déjà vu in the way that it shows up out of nowhere, and in how fleeting it seems to be when it does. Like with déjà vu, I always do what I can to hold on to it for as long as I can, but it always fades. A bit like when I’m trying to remember the details of a nice, or horrible dream.

    I was wondering if there could be a way to feel that same intensity but towards the present, without having to wait for the trigger of nostalgia later on. What would I need to look at to appreciate being alive in a moment, and feel that same intensity? What sort of thing should I look out for, or try to notice? I looked at some trees. People always mention those kinds of things – the trees, the sky, and the grass, and how wonderful they are. I’m a little bit sorry that I’ve become used to all of those things. Maybe one day, again, I’ll be bowled over by them.

    Music can induce some intense feelings for me in the present moment, and some art as well. Meditation seems to give me an awareness of the present, and of being present, but I’ve never been close to tears at the beauty and privilege of being alive through meditating. It seems as though those feelings might be reserved for 10 or 15 years later, and hindsight. Maybe only once something has been lost and can be mourned. Maybe there’d be no nostalgia if we felt those feelings in relation to the present, anyway? Maybe it wouldn’t be as good, or we wouldn’t be able to function if we were feeling that way all of the time. It is the way it is, I suppose.

    I was thinking about all those sorts of things while I was on my way home from a walk. For some reason, the voice of Billy Connolly came into my head. The voice of Billy Connolly was saying, “appreciate your body while you can. And use it. Because a time will come when you won’t be able to, you know? And if you don’t, you’ll look back and wonder why you didn’t. Because it’s a wonderful thing, moving, you know? It’s brilliant!” The voice of Billy Connolly didn’t develop the thought much further beyond that. That paragraph repeated itself in my head though, and I started to say it out loud while I was walking – impersonating Billy. Honing my impression, actually. It’s getting pretty good.

  • Strangers

    Yesterday I went into town to do a little bit of shopping. I bought shoes. I stopped for a drink on my way home. When I left it was around 5pm and lot’s of people had piled into the street, also heading home it seemed – probably from work. As I walked amongst them, and weaved in-between them trying to avoid a collision, I had the startling realisation that I didn’t have the slightest clue who any of them were.

  • Hands

    When I look at my hands, it’s difficult for me to get past how familiar I am with them. It’s difficult for me to see them for what they are, in a more objective sort of way. Weird things, hands. Kind of reptilian and kind of alien. Fingers sounds like a disease.

    This morning I woke up a few hours before my alarm and wasn’t tired enough to get back to sleep. I did some puzzles on my phone, read some articles, and took this photo of my hand – which got me thinking about hands.

    We’re freaks.

  • The couch.

    I’ve been sleeping on the couch for the past few nights due to an incident in my bedroom that I won’t describe in too much detail. All of my bedding was ruined though, and I had to order new things to sleep in/on/with. So, while waiting on the new bedding to be delivered, I’ve been sleeping on the couch. It hasn’t been that much fun. In the past I would see this kind of thing as some sort of adventure or welcome break from the norm. Not this time though. I must be getting older.

    (I didn’t shit the bed).

  • The light.

    I liked the light on my rucksack this morning when I was on the bus to work.

  • The barbers.

    I went to the barbers today. I don’t like going for a haircut. I usually leave my hair until it’s getting out of control before making an appointment – although I just walked in today, no appointment necessary.
    I hate the set-up at the barbers: talking to someone via a mirror and competing with the noise from all the other customers and the hairdryers. I’m not the loudest of talkers at the best of times, so it’s difficult to make myself heard above all of that. It means the barber sometimes has to pause to ask me what I said. It’s never anything interesting and I’m always embarrassed having to say it again. It stresses me out a bit.
    And then I never seem to get the haircut I ask for. It’s always much shorter than I want it to be. I think the haircut I’m looking for isn’t actually an available option because I always come away with the exact same thing despite asking for something totally different, and that further discourages me from going back in the future. But then, eventually, I have to.

  • The news.

    I’ve given up on the news. I gave up on it maybe two or three months ago. It’s too much. I don’t need to know about the horrible things that happen every day. What can I do with all of that? Maybe it’s useful when it comes to choosing who to vote for, but I think that’s about it. There isn’t any need for this much news.