Shadow Memories?


Shadow Memories?

How can I capture your beauty and energy in a photograph. 
It’s a flat, lifeless, 2d representation of your 3D perfection.

There’s no twinkle in your eyes 

No spring in your step. 

No magic when you sing or dance. 

Its merely a shadow of who you are. 

But I hold it and think of you. 

Because your shadow is the only part of you that remains. 

That and my memories. 

Boak!! ūüôā

Who writes shit like that? 

Actually,  it was sent to me by a girl I used to know after the relationship ended. 

I’d already deleted her texts, emails, Facebook posts and blocked her. 

Then I receive that by text from her other number. 

We had only had 2 dates FFS!  ūüôā

Bet she sends that to everyone!

Nutter!

I Just Called To Say I Love You?

I’m a big Stevie Wonder fan .. If tunes like Superstition, ¬†I Wish, ¬†Sir Duke, ¬†Living For The City etc don’t make you want to dance thee is something wrong with you.

I particularly love I Wish, its a different more upbeat slant on the song Dance With My Father .. which I also love. ¬† ¬†Stevie sings of his mum keeping him right, ¬†greeting him at the back-door to tell him the difference between wrong and right and for me it brings back memories when I used to hang about with those “hoodlum friends of mine”.

I was listening to all of these songs while getting ready for work and on my train journey this morning.

I work in a busy open-plan office,   having headphones on helps block out the background noise of other peoples conversations and helps you focus on the task at hand .. even if your head is bopping along to the music.

It’s the pulse .. it flows in us .. music is always playing in my head.

Better that than hearing voices! ¬†ūüôā

When the pulse stops,  the dance is over and we die .. thats it.

So I’m sitting there listening to Steve Wright on Radio 2 .. and someone is picking the music of their lifetime .. a bit of Stevie coming up fantastic!

But then .. of all the choices they choose .. I Just Called To Say I Love You.

Now I don’t know about you, ¬†but it has to be one of the worst pop songs ever, ¬†sickly scmaltzy and almost gives me the boke.

Now compare that with the song As from his album Songs in The Key Of Life.

Now theres a tune and a lyric which conveys the emotion of being in love without the need for a sick-bag.

I even love the version by George Michael and Mary J Blige,  noted for its video which was avant-garde in its use of computer controlled cameras and overlaid video.

Until the rainbow burns the starts out of the sky
Until the ocean covers every mountain high

Always!

 

Blind-Sided? …. Part 1

Ellen Barkin

Alex said to me .. She’s got all the right bits, just not in all the right places.

I looked over to see who he was talking about ..  and there she was,  tall, long legs, long strawberry-blonde hair, decent tits .. the more than a handful size that fills your mouth or smothers your face without looking like they came from a joke shop.

Her face is pretty enough in that quirky way, like Ellen Barkin in Sea Of Love .. she smiles and her mouth twists a little .. but I kinda like it.

I’m wondering what he’s talking about, I don’t see anything unattractive in this woman.

Then she walked towards the bar, and it was all wrong, as incongruous as John Wayne stepping up to order a few French Martini’s, something just didn’t fit.¬† Continue reading “Blind-Sided? …. Part 1”

Unfinished Business – Prologue

When was the last time you fucked an airline hostess?

Doctor? Nurse? Barmaid? Waitress? Teacher? Police Officer?

Do you and your mates have a trophy list?

Like kids collect cards of their favourite football players?

Do you collect their underwear and keep it in a drawer underneath your bed?

Do you talk about these women in the pub, compare notes, discuss the intimacies of what you did with who?

Did you?

Have you?

Well you ought to fucking grow up.

Women, regardless of their career aren’t toys to be collected.

Personally I like to keep my memories in my head, those treasured thoughts of what I did with whom, when, where, what we ate, where we went, what music we liked.

But thats really none of of your business.

Somehow these private thoughts have never lost their clarity and sometimes all it takes is a piece of music or the scent of a particular perfume to take me back to some other place and some other time.

Still it’s not every day you get to fuck an airline hostess,

Marie arrived straight from her shift, 7 day long haul to Barbados, most of the time her own except for a day spent on an internal shuttle to Greneda and back.

She said that she was looking forward to seeing me,  even although most of her texts had been attempts to make me jealous as she lay by the pool, or that she was out for the evening, dancing with her friends and colleagues.

The jealousy was working!

As arranged, she sent me a text from the airport letting me know that she was back in the country and on the way.

I’d had a sense of anticipation all day, ¬†an excitement rushing through my veins, ¬†I couldn’t wait to see her.

I had an empty house and spent most of the day preparing for the night ahead,  cleaning, hovering, changing sheets.

As the time of her arrival became closer,  I turned the lights down low,  her choice of music playing,  the fizz was already on chill.

I wanted it to be good for her,  I wanted her to feel special and desired.  I wanted her to come again.

When her text arrived I ran her bath,  but 15 minutes later as she arrived dressed in her uniform like a goddess from an airline commercial the bath was forgotten.

It was still dark at 5am as she dressed to go home,  she liked to be there for her daughter waking up.

She was looking around the room, picking up discarded clothes and dropping them on the bed ¬†“Have you seen my thong?”

I shook my head “I’m sure it’ll turn up” hoping she didn’t see my smile in the darkness.

But I was a different guy back then.

Image borrowed from Virgin Airlines,  how hot do these girls look?