Soundtrack: Midnight in a Perfect World - DJ Shadow.

The above tune captures today’s vibe almost to perfection. Find it and play it if you seek understanding, oh seeker. :) A tragic-comic, melancholic mood lingered all through today, oddly mellow and cloying. It’s partly that sense of resignation you get when you face what is, rather than anything you dreamed. There’s even something of stillness/peace to it, and it’s better than the last couple of days anyway.

Another part was hope, I must say - modest hope, within a place of reasonable inner-calm. Even though we’re mortal, there’s always hope. And if it ends in oblivion, we won’t know about it. I only want to think about life and living.

The sky was white rather than grey and the breeze on my skin didn’t feel like a nuisance. It was cool, both literally and figuratively. It made me realise I was a living-breathing person. I took in a lungful and breathed out.

There was still an unreal quality to my morning and early evening… or rather it was like “smoothed out” reality, as if I’d been in a halfway towards drunk mind-state – or even viewing everything through the filter of a beer glass itself, distorting bubbles in motion and all. I’ve tried to replicate a touch of it in today’s colour scheme. I suppose you had to be behind my eyes for the full effect, though.

Happily, I’m putting on a little weight, filling out a bit - I’m tired of wispy anaemia and stark edges. Having said that… I’ve felt light (insubstantial) and airy all day.

Haven’t got a clue what life is really all about still, after years of looking for answers. At the most basic, I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re all souls on a journey, accidental or not, and that it’s probably the walking of the path that’s more important than the destination or any final answers. That’s not a bad way of looking at life. I’ll probably never stop asking and searching, though.

Back to that mood and that song for a moment, and the more absurd/surrealist side, it’s like that guy who walks into his local shop, goes over to the counter and says, “There’s a gun in my stomach. If you don’t empty the till and give me all the money, I’ll shoot you.” The shopkeeper, unfazed, says “Next please.” They think the man is deranged but harmless. But after much groaning, there’s a large bang, blood splashes the wall, and the lunatic drops to the floor with a hole in his abdomen.

Chris Morris is a genius.

Smile, be hopeful, and say, “at least I’m not in Ghana.”

I’ve got a story brewing about a snake, a spider, and a hero. I’ve got the start but no middle or end. Ah well, it’s all good.

Think chocolate and ducks in a cool pond.