Not really a post. Just a venture.

The sounds of drunken laughter drift up the stairs as I grip my head, tearing at my fringe and trying to figure out that one paragraph. They're still happy, there's been no political debating, let's keep it that way. The sounds of a violin are tearing above all of the noise, it sounds as if the strings are broken, but really the player is unlearned and improvising, the violin out of tune and dismal-sounding after so many years of neglect. But still they're laughing, this laughter is younger, that of boys messing around, trying to find something to do while their parents ponder the cheese course, and which wine to move onto next.

There's always music in this house. And even more of it when these particular guests are over. I sit at the top of the stairs, at my desk, staring at the fish-bowl reflective window in front of me, and wondering when my life will be as simple as that of the people all below me. Eating their cheeses and watching videos on YouTube on the new flat-screen TV. It's 55 inches, arrived Friday. Internet connection, 3D ready, built in HD freeview, connects up to the laptops with their bluray players. Quite the thing to have really.

But it all seems so idle now, silly pleasures that won't last. The atmosphere down there will be forgotten, in time, and replaced with whatever other mood the house has to offer up. At least it's not cold, I couldn't bear that. But then this house so often is that I may as well get used to it.

The paragraph's almost sorted, just one problem sentence in the middle. Sort that and maybe it'll be worth that all important A*, which will also lose importance, as time progresses. Then I can do my ironing. That's a constant. Ironing every week, there will always be some. A little comfort, I guess. Comfort in farmiliarity. Well, I'd better go and do that now, before I fade into the endless fickle night. Maybe they'll argue soon. Who knows.



To make it clear, I've taken some of the events of tonight and stuck them into a fantasy. I'm working on my creative writing skills. This is not what happened or how I felt, in fact, it's been a good night. But that sentence in the film review is still bothering me. :)
Off to watch "Mentalist" now. Simon Baker......