Outside would be better

Midsummer naturally concludes a marker in time, a point when everything suddenly becomes clearer than mountain spring water and for a brief few minutes, your place in life suddenly seems to make sense.

For a few precious moments everything in life untangles, simplifies and becomes so sharply clear.

Don’t ask me where this clarity comes from. I have no idea. I don’t fully believe it truly is present, yet every year on this long summer day it reappears. There is no logical sense in believing that one day in the year conjures up this sense. Its kinetic and reflective, its something that’s present, sitting in a bit of floating brain-grisle.

Is this just an imagined belief? Am I just a hippy? Did dabbling in Paganistic ideas influence thoughts? Or is there actually something really in existence that we are aware of regardless of prior experience and knowledge.

The summer solstice is the day in the Northern hemisphere when the sun and the moon’s axis tilts towards the sun more so than any other day each year. It is the longest, lightest day of the year. This is an undisputible fact.

In our industrious artificial lives does this still effect us, are we even aware of this fraction more daylight received? Citydwellers – most of us are –  are so removed from nature it’s hard to think such subtle changes still have the capability of effecting our feelings and knowledge. Perhaps it is purely an empirical understanding than cannot be shaken no matter how urbanised we are. Yet it is a day so deeply entwinned in natural light maybe it is unescapable to even those who live artificial lives.

 

 

Solstice

One year ago today I was half asleep in a tiny car. 

After dawn we climbed trees and drank a bottleof Morgan’s Spiced rum, while Mike the viking tried to poke us out of a tree with a giant stick. More of a tree trunk than a stick, really. Wondering up the hill afterwards, we ate tomato pasta salad with our fingers and fell asleep in the dawn sun. Sometime after we wondered back to the car and fell asleep. This was all in the name of midsummer, the Solstice.

When it got too hot we sleepily stumbled out the car into the early morning sun, finding shade and Waynes van. Everything is somewhat blurry about this point. Several of us squeezed into the front seats, falling asleep squished into gangly shapes. The seats were not big enough to sleep on, let alone for two or three not-so-small people. Sometime later Joy’s shoes were thrown on the roof of the van. There was some tired drama and eventual shoe retrieval.

After this everything is a blur. Then suddenly we were home. I don’t remember anything other than falling asleep squashed between people in the back of the car and drinking red bull when my eyes cracked open.

Today

I am sat at a desk staring at a monitor wondering why I am feeling sad. Later on I will stand in an off-license pulling disgusted faces when people reeking of layers of dried sweat and stale alcohol stumble over the doorstep of the shop. And then Midsummers day will be over.

I would have liked to be outside, in the world today.

Advertisements

Summerwine

Summertime means summer wine, musky sticky goose-bump evenings, barbecues and sunburn. Dawn keeps breaking just before I wake up after passing in  and out of too-hot half sleep. I keep hoping things’ll become fun; life focused and ready to pounce on every little bit of it I can. Thats  not so when there is no-where to go, no reason or want to fight on.

I keep trying to find a life direction, plan an adventure that is not just a few months floating about, return to Uni or find an internship. Do something with a little meaning and use to myself and the/my world.

There is not enough concentration in me to complete and organise any of the above. This really bothers me. Failure is currently the situation.

For someone that always tells other people to stop talking about there ideas, and start doing them, I am a massive raging hypocrite… Writing this just adds to this some more.

There were so many ideas, ambitions in me. I was on track to getting some of them off the ground and floating into reality. Moving to Southampton was never intended as a permanent thing. It was a transition into the future. I had forgotten this.

Then last year happened. I’m still a tad stuck.


  • Calendar

    • November 2017
      M T W T F S S
      « Oct    
       12345
      6789101112
      13141516171819
      20212223242526
      27282930  
  • Search