November fifth of every year is a special day in the UK. It can also be referred to as Guy Fawkes Night along with many other names. It was a plot by Catholics to assassinate the Protestant King in 1605. This night was celebrated to commemorate the king’s survival of this failed attempt on his life. In the early days there was a strong anti catholic sentiment to these celebrations and the evolution of this event has taken on new dimensions in the modern age as the Anonymous movement has co-opted this night for its own purposes. It now serves as an anarchistic celebration calling attention to the vast inequality within our society. What a great time to go and visit the city. Unfortunately I’m not going there to join in these festivities but to get away and hopefully see some friends.
The need to get out of my residence grew tremendously over the course of the week. Maybe being cooped up in the room was becoming too much for me. Maybe I’d get lucky and pick up their new phone I’ve been after. Supplies are limited and it seems like I should have taken the advice of the support representative who suggested that I get the thing shipped to me. There wasn’t any money then to do that then but there is now. Still one can always use the money in other ways and I intend to do just that. I’m not that desperate to have my hands on it just yet.
It was an early start to the day as it was imperative to catch the first bus to the centre of town and then the first train to London. If anything getting away from town was important to me. I could also help my mental state by topping up my dwindling reserves of herbs. These have been instrumental in allowing me to appreciate my time up in Hull. The recent creative output has caused me to reflect on this aspect of my life. It will have to be dealt with along with my continued use of pre rolls. In the future another method of subdividing time will have to be created. Maybe it will be a more natural way of doing it but it will go a long way in extending this mortal existence which is something all of us well, most of us want. For some death is a release from the pain of this current existence weather real or imagined.
It couldn’t have been any more of a typical November day. As the day became brighter it appeared as a cloudy rainy windy day. What is left of any leaves on the trees will soon disappear and traces of those autumn colours will fade as they get trampled and swept away by landscapers for composting. Soon just naked leafless branches will sway in the wind in the darkness of the night as rain pelts the land in these dark winter months. This is the season of Seasonal Affective Disorder affectionately known as SAD. In these winter months the lack of external sensory stimuli coupled with cold temperatures forces our contemplative nature onto ourselves. For me in particular there is much to think about as the next phase in life will shortly begin.
My mind stretches out to touch those dear to me as our communication ebbs towards our reunion in December. In particular I am troubled to hear that all is not as good as it should be. All those layers that get heaped upon one another before there is time to dig oneself out from the first layer. It troubles me deeply as I slowly learn of each side’s position and what forms the basis of their discord.
The further south I travelled on the train the brighter it seemed to get. The sun somehow magically appeared evaporating the whispy clouds and boldly illuminating the land as the carriages rumbled along the track towards my destination. My mind was occupied by this craft as my tale spined like yarn into a pattern of a delicate jumper. There are these things that happen that have congruence to things seemingly unrelated to each other. The way that certain structures resemble others and how those effects affect those playing those roles has deep implications. I didn’t see that resemblance in the morning yet.
London greeted me with an indifferent air as if my presence only matters when I pass the barriers to get down to the Tchube. This city is in constant motion and people like ants have their little tasks that need to be taken care of. The network of tunnels speeds us along to our destinations with a quaint efficiency through the moist leaky tunnels. The aroma of the underground is industrial as the gust of pressurised air announces the approaching train beyond the announcement reminding us to mind the gap. I’m not sure I hear it still or the voice announcing the name of the next station. I stared blankly at those around me still processing something a great many things in fact to see how they will coalesce and what will come out if it. Parks have a particular draw for me at this time of the year. All these colours only seen at this time of the year and only for a brief period of time. As I waited for my buddy to meet up with me for a quick chat it may be the last time I see him. We caught up on our current events and I lamented my existence up north. He wasn’t familiar with Hull enough to comment objectively on it.
I tried to get a hold of a couple of people but it was probably fortunate that I didn’t. It gave me a chance to have a good chat with back home. Hyde Park provided a gorgeous backdrop as I wondered listened and responded to what I was hearing. It’s troubling and it made me think about a situation at work and the troublesome colleague that doesn’t hear it directly but is whispered about in the background. A bit of criticism and that initial impression hasn’t made things any easier.
I tried to sleep on it but woke up early. It’s funny how events synchronize like how my neighbor told me of how busy it has been on the maternity ward. It seems like a lot of babies are being born at this time. A result of how busy people were all those months back which would lead it back to February of this year. When someone who is important to me is feeling blue that empathic connection has an effect.
Speaking of synchronistically effects I wonder if the rare upset abdomen meant anything. It certainly had an effect on making me ponder the things that I heard spoken to me. Normally when a significant realization occurs the associated bodily reaction is a wave like rush akin to a high. Today this was associated with an undesirable byproduct of poor dietary choices. The irony of my predicament was not lost on me as I sought to find the cleanest w/c and prayed for relief. The mind tends to dissociate itself from what is happening to the body. It floats even if it is firmly attached to the body bobbing like a buoy.
“Don’t honk at me you pulled out in front of me!”
Some words were said by the cabbie prompting the cyclist to dismount his bicycle. This was followed by a tirade of expletives and a demand of an apology before moving. The cabbie lurched forward to intimidate but that only got the cyclist madder.
“That is a criminal offence!”
Soon a bunch of cops showed up and proceeded to get to the bottom of the story. The road between Kings Cross and St Pancras is always populated by officers of one form or another. I felt another surge inside of me and I hoped that it would pass quickly. After contemplating my situation I realized that the sooner that the trouble that lies within me comes out the better. I was wondering if I should get involved in the dispute that was in front of me. Would it add to anything? My decision was made for me. Fortunately when I made it back I got the same stall. I was dreading what I’d find.
My condition anchored me to the area prematurely. I ended up killing a lot of time in and around this area conscious of my feelings/thoughts. I wonder what the eventual ramifications of all of this will be. The parties involved have to be the solution to the issues they’ve encountered. How can those deep seated beliefs lead to a lasting compromise or breakthrough that reinvigorates and refreshes what has become stagnant? I wonder as well if I will at some point face the same issues since in order to understand what is happening to someone else I imagine myself in their predicament.