Saturday, 28 February 2009

1093 Big Brother Chronicle

Another transition day of no interest to anyone but me.

This morning I am haunted by the person I have been and the person I will never become (Saturday).

This morning (Sunday) I am in judgement about my judgements.

Against my better judgement on Friday evening I pursued what happens at the Big Brother House with the arrival a handsome 26 year old male and 11 females of varying ages, some stupid, a couple psychological and emotionally disturbed. (This may be an accurate observation but what do we do by being brutally honest, except create barriers between ourselves and others and thus commence the process which leads to war)

(I am putting off doing what I need to do.(Sunday)

Big Brother is much more of a controlled and artificial social experiment that the kind of reality voyeurism I prophesied some twenty years ago. However the pattern of their lives is similar to my own with my work conscience in the role of Big Brother but my sleeping and feeding is governed more by need than social convention. The more one watches the kinder one feels and the more rounded the individuals become.

On my Saturday walk I was gripped by the feeling of being on the outside of experience and reminders of previous emotional longings. There was a cold edge to the after lunch sunshine and everyone appeared in a holiday spirit at the sea front and with the parks full of young life. There was a young man in an open bright red sports car who appeared to be on the look out for a friend, existing or to become. There was a young girl with head bowed, dressed in black, sitting on a wall who appeared troubled and alone. There were teenage school girls walking behind me where from snatches of conversation one appeared to be determined not only to want it all, but have it, and did I correctly that she was prepared to work in a brothel abroad? I was tempted to seek clarification but decided against. They all had rights to do what they were doing without the kind of Big Brother Scrutiny I was giving them.

I fancied an ice cream but everywhere there were queues. I was dissatisfied with my impatience. The queues were greater for fish and chips. On return I looked at restaurant menus. I had a siesta of tiredness after lettuce and salami rolls and then after the walk I settled for just a cup of tea. The walk had been a goodish one as my shirt was wet but not drenched and could be worn for the visit to my mother, Afterwards the holiday weekend mood prevailed I gave in to the urge for a Kentucky Fried Chicken Zinger meal, with the chicken sandwich, two wings, coleslaw, fries and diet coke for £3.99 resisting the offer of a max for 30 additional pence. This is not as silly as is sounds showing some restraint.

I was reminded of last autumn when I received a two for one MacDonald's offer and made regular visits into town for brunches over a period of 10 days. This was unrestrained. This review of what was written in a tired condition yesterday evening is making me hungry and I am fighting against a Sunday 9am bacon roll breakfast. I am losing willpower. What a contrast to the Hotel meal of a few days ago, with a memory of visits over three decades, and the Chinese where I had only made one visit perhaps seven years before. The bacon roll reminds me of wolfing a chocolate bar. The roll was defrosted too crispy and the bacon undercooked and I will now drink more which would be OK except I don't fancy water.


I was sent a Clear Channel e mail advertising tracks from the Springsteen concert on Dublin, and then listened to the latest Elton compilation and now the Beach Boys. There is the work of 130 artists to listen to. Next will be Corinne Bailey Rae and James Blunt and then a special Simon Cowell Red Book. I have watched most "This is your life from the days of Eammon Andrews. The Simon Cowell was the most excruciating awful programme on TV in living memory. The expense was horrendous as the presenter was flown over to the final if the American Idol and then everyone flown back to the UK for the programme. The reputation of everyone suffered with the exception of Rickie Gervais.

I have a feeling first experienced in adolescence that at a weekend everyone except me was going out to a party. However I have always regarded parties as artificial pointless events until I held one once for work colleagues and I, and everyone else, thoroughly enjoyed themselves, but subsequently this only made the sense of regret about missing out on parties even greater. Sometimes a little taste of something is worse than going without and bearing the longing.

I will do what I have put off for three days

I have undertaken some of the work catching up tasks but I am lazy. On Big Brother someone went outside to experience the freshness of the morning and I wanted to echo the suggested experience. The bacon roll was a consolation. I want to be on holiday again. I am losing the work drive. New life experience is for others. But I yearn.


Well...I subscribed to your blog and gave it a read. Interesting. Posted by
~ Z ~ on 19:06 - 19:51

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