Data Loss

Travelling backwards, as with this blog, means things always look smaller as soon as you see them, and keep getting smaller in the distance. Just like when you think of something and think its important, as you get older it seems less important.

So, the morning before that morning before it all ended seems a little less of an event.
Oh and yes, writing a blog backwards also gives you a headache.

I remember when I first went to school at the age of seven (I was a late starter) the girl sitting next to me started crying for some reason. Even at that age I thought “she must be very frightened`”. Everyone in the class seemed to be ignoring her so I got up and went over to her. The next thing I slipped and banged my head on a chair. My first concussion? You would think I would remember that very well, but in fact the only reason I remember it is because someone told me afterwards that I had slipped on some liquid. That’s why the poor girl was crying.

Memories seem to be some kind of brain ricochet through life that land up as thoughts from a nowhere place that does not exist anymore. Wow deep thinking. This is probably the reason I have such a bad memory. Like most people, I never forget a face, but never remember a name. I stood and had a conversation with a chap the other day. He asked me how I was doing, did I still live where I did, how was the music coming alone and on and on. I don`t have a clue who he was, but he looked familiar.
I knew he could not be an ex-lover because I am straight so that, at least, gave me comfort.

I have heard Data Retrieval gets worse as the years go by. My mother had Alzheimer’s and that is by far the worst. In the end she did not even know who she was anymore. It started kind of funny, like her dog was either fed 17 times a day or it was not fed at all. Your current girlfriend was always called your previous girlfriend, you were always called your father’s name and President Kennedy was a good friend who had been hit by at train whilst washing the car and looking for boxes. The ricochet effect was getting out of control. I think I kind of summed it up in the song Juliet Forgets and know I am not alone in experiencing the effects the disease can have on people around it. Data Protection will take on a new meaning for many people soon.
So I am off now to walk my own dog and breathe. Or have I already done that?


ALL SMARTPICS BY FINGERS SCINTELLA

POL Arida - Survival Guide

The day before the day it ended seemed fairly normal. Like every morning, get up, check news, drink tea, pet dog and the rest. Why check the news? Well like most people its checking up that the world is as you left it last night, it never is, something always changes. The worst is when some old bugger you knew from the media dies, you didn`t actually know them, but it feels that way, totally illogical. I remember my Grandmother telling me ( she had no TV at the time) that she looked out of the window one moring and saw a train had stopped before the station and it had people running around it. Window news, confusion! until three hours later when there was a knock on her door to tell her that her husband had been killed by a train. He was 38 and died on November the 6th. I say this because this news reference has a follow up.

So when I was born years later I was brought up not to go near railway lines, good advice, I would be safe. Then in  a strange twist of fate when I was seven years old I woke up to find my mother in tears. My father had died of a heart attack whilst washing the car. The strange twist of fate being that it was November the 6th and he was 38 years old. Not a train is sight. Needless to say on the 6th of Novemeber when I was 38,
I stayed in bed with my fingers crossed. Illogical, but it worked.

It is a fact that we seem to remember more news black spots than we do the things that actually make our lives good. I cant even remember where I got my first shag, possibly because it was not on the news. Perhaps it wasn`t that good! Mind you some black news needs to be remembered as I look at the date today.

So after the news every morning at 10.30am, I masturbate. I have convinced myself this is required for my medical well being. "Oh God", I hear you cry, "too much information", but then again its just another box lying around. And its better fun than the daytime tv after the news.

"Nothing that changes can change without moving" So really what life is really about is movement which creates change every single nano second, you cant escape it or avoid it. Well unless its a train!

POL Arida - RIP

Let’s start at the end. Today at 4.15 GMT the Coroner signed the little bit of paper that confirmed, POL Arida is dead. It’s funny how when you die everything goes backwards, the smoke comes out your lungs and the cigarette gets bigger, you drive your car backwards to the supermarket and the first thing that happens is that people give you money to put food back on the shelves. You then reverse back to your house and look in the fridge. As for toilets, let`s not go there. The ultimate recycling has begun.

Image by: Fingers Scintilla

Its starts with blackness and finishes with blackness, the bit in between, or the bit I call `order`, is the bit where you spend a lot of time putting things in boxes that then create more `order`. I suppose having a lot of boxes by the end makes you a winner. What exactly you have won remains a mystery.

If anything the boxes just give clues to the person, the popular boxes are the ones which other people relate to their own boxes. “Look there lays POL Arida surrounded by boxes and vacuuming his own shit.” It’s a sight worth recording, if only for the realism that that will be you one day. On that note would it not be a great commercial idea to take people`s blogs and print them onto novelty toilet paper? I would have bought that and used them as special Xmas gifts so that folks could read a bit and then use a bit. It would work I think but admit the brail version might be tad uncomfortable.

So, everything that is written here has been written before this day, just like everything that has been thought, has been thought before. There is nothing really original, only boxes which are not boxed shaped and those tend to be more interesting. And anyway, let’s face it, you cannot write something you haven`t already thought, so it’s going to be recycled no matter what you write. Just like you can`t shit unless you have already eaten it. The world works in obvious ways so sign up here for “Recycling News”, a publication brought to you from inside a dead person’s box!