One could well mistake this particular blog for being the hastily written ramblings of a drunkard and for the most part you’d be right. However, i choose to believe that there is genius behind my excenticities. There has to be or else all of this has been in vain.
I have spent most of the past week battling with depression, ignoring important matters and generally burying my hand in the sand. It might be the inclement weather, but it feels as if it has snowed in my head and the council will not be gritting these roads anytime soon.
The heavy snowfalls coinciding with the return to work for the first working week of the year has aided in prolonging the disjointed, temporary nature of the festive period. In short, we dont feel like it is business as normal.
There is so much i have to get done , this is no way to avoid it, but avoid it I have, quite well, until now.
Sometimes in my more somber and solemn moments, I imagine myself as a metaphorical glider pilot, desperately trying to catch a decent enough thermal gust to keep flying above the mountains. Instead lacklustre thermals come my way keeping me inches above the jagged rocks and although i can see my bitter demise very clearly ahead of me, some part of me will not cease to believe that the major thermal is a mere few inches away around the next corner. These are my own delusions. Some would call them futile and condemn me to my own failure.
Of course, i am being spectacularly self indulgent in writing this and publishing it to a blog that no one reads and no one recognises. The potential for some poor sod to stumble upon these inane ramblings is little comfort.