Hey daddy, you cool daddy, yeah!

Music: The 5,6,7,8's

Hi, my name is Pure Gin.

It's been one month since my last blog post.

But there have been reasons for this - the best one being I was in Japan. I wish I was still there. Japan is full of wonder excitement; great food; sake; peculiar quirks; things that talk to you; things that beep at you; things that are wrapped in three layers of plastic; temples, karaoke and pachinko. And also wonderful people. Smiling, friendly, helpful, warm people.

spark to the fire, push to the flame; mentally project positive all day

Music: Fat Freddy's Drop

The symptoms of Spring are everywhere - lovely things like sunshine and birdsong and blossoms and that particular way the air smells when the seasons change. And less lovely things like too-short denim skirts and crowded beaches.

My white legs signal to me brightly that they want to be taken out and my hair flutters in the warm breeze.

See these eyes so green? I can stare for a thousand years...

Music: David Bowie

It's sunny and warm today. The streets are in bloom. Birds and a blue sky wake me from sweet dreams of new beginnings.

I'm ready to get started with some things.

Music: Boards of Canada

He looked through the peep hole and then cautiously opened the door. He stood for a minute listening. Nothing.

He turned and smiled at her, reaching for her hand. “Let’s go.”

Up the stairs, two, now three at a time. The heavy door, first open, then quickly shut behind them.

On the roof they were alone. Still clasping hands, they gazed upwards. The sun was liquid gold over the sheet-metal sky. Everything touched by it’s light was reborn.

He looked at her and cupped her face with his hand and told her he loved her.

It was days like this that made him feel glad to be alive.

Three Years Old.

Music: John Coltrane & Miles Davis


Today's a Birthday of sorts. Not his birthday, also not quite mine yet (soon, soon!), but this blog's birthday.

I started blogging 3 years ago, although it has evolved a lot since then and been reborn more than once. I'm not sure how many people actually read it, but that's not really the point. The point is I've enjoyed writing it.

Happy Birthday, blog.

Must be some kind of planet, for all the people who can manage. All of us who can handle it, with all of this damage.

Music: The Dandy Warhols

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed; felt the sheepskin thick between his toes.

It was a year ago now, that the world had ended.

On his birthday, a day just like today. She had been cooking him breakfast, he had been sleeping in. It was a year ago, when newspapers had been reporting the spreading madness throughout the country, and it was on this day that the first riots had started. There were images on television of police clashes with civilians, with ordinary people, people just like him, like his sister and her daughter, who had been swept away in a sea of fury and misunderstandings. He could envisage them: the chanting crowd, fists raised to the sky, when suddenly everything that they had known, all the reasons they had for being there, had evaporated.

He rubbed his eyes, the memory still hot under his skin. He looked up at the sound of her sigh next to him.

"Happy Birthday", she whispered.

Sé lest...

Music: Sigur Rós

His mind drifting into consciousness, he became aware of the enticing smell of coffee cooking on the stove top and the clatter of pots and plates. He could sense the sunshine softly prodding at his eyelids, but he wouldn’t open them just yet. Not just yet.

He rolled over, reaching out across the emptiness of the bed, feeling ruffled sheets and a lonely pillow beneath his fingers. He smiled as he breathed in her scent, still lingering between woven cotton threads, and he buried his head underneath the covers.

Slowly he opened his eyes, surrounded by the muted warm glow of the sun-drenched sheets. He could hear her happy humming and knew that it was already late.

Today was his birthday.