I’ve had one brilliant day today; a really good one. Flippin’ heck, as my teacher would say. Lots of things on the list of this evening’s post.
Firstly, I know we all play hot and cold due to having our very dynamic and varying moods, but it’s been a real pleasure getting to know someone new lately, in fact, I’d say it’s the most I’ve talked to someone in a few years, and if any of you know anything about me, that means more to me than looks, intellect of the ability to provide satisfaction, (tell me you didn’t say satisfaction in your head like in the song?).
Moving on from that and onto my canoeing adventure today! I went out with my best buddy Conor to have a fairly fun experience canoeing down the River Wye. So, we didn’t stop off at the pub, and it was Conor’s first experience canoeing! Ha-ha, something to remember, and amongst certain conversations and a long conversation with him about someone he met, and teasing him with the meme ‘lemme smash’ which will be shown at the bottom of the post. (you’re welcome). We spent a few hours rowing down the river, and we spent a few hours, including breakfast getting there this morning.
One of my friends, Liz, took us there, and we had a chat with her and her mum. It was a nice catch-up and I remembered why I missed seeing them so much, she used to be my neighbour and we used to see each other every day, and now, I hadn’t seen her in about a year, maybe two. That will definitely have to change!
So, after finishing the course and heading home, we missed the bus and had time so we had a lovely meal at ‘The Punch House’ in Monmouth where we ate a taverner’s chicken meal, which was what we would call Huntsman chicken, ha, can’t fool me.
After wasting some time, we went home. I’ll be honest, the bartender scared me a little. Either she was in a mad rush, and the boss of all things in that place, or she just simply didn’t like us. Maybe she knew we weren’t from there. Who the heck knows.
After leaving Monmouth at about 4:30, we fell asleep on the bus, waking up now and then, in Usk and then Caerleon before getting back to Newport. Jeez, such a long trip. We headed to the train station and heard of a fatality halting some of the trains.
When it comes to death I feel callous and cold, and I had the opinion that people die every day, why feel sad over another one? And, I think if there was ever a Sims 3 friendship sign above our heads, it would’ve been a negative one above Conor’s. He was quite conflicted about how to feel about it. I suppose that’s the difference when you hear about several deaths on the tracks, compared to the first time. I may be a little heartless but I appreciate the tender look at life in cases like that.
After a good day out we went our separate ways, and I almost missed my stop by falling asleep, again. I got off and headed home. I realised how burnt I was, and have red marks down my wrists, face and kneecaps. I do have a tan line on my left wrist from my watch, which amused me for a little while. I know, it’s the little things, right?
I sat down for a bit, talked to a few people, casually said goodbye to two people that had been communicating with me for a while but with empty words, as if they felt they had to but weren’t interested in getting anywhere with me. I didn’t feel much about that, I guess I’m getting used to saying it now– who knows whether that’s a good thing or not.
In other news, I unboxed my delivery and opened my grey pair of trousers, white shirt, and waistcoat waiting for me. I’ve got to look professional when going to teach on Monday, haven’t I? Ha-ha.
I’ve been testing out a different style of writing, one in which I don’t fluff around with the words and get straight to the point until it comes to an area of immense drama, to create a more intense atmosphere when needed.
My teacher gave my some good advice and she said, “you can’t start off with a nuclear explosion and then go back to normal.” It made a lot of sense to me.
Here’s a sample of what I’ve written, what do you think?
He made her a promise; that he did, a contract so to speak, though it was more of a death wish with that woman. Thomas was a fool who promised the world a new skin. Everyone, including he knew it was impossible but still he pledged his services at an early age to a lady who caught his eye. Probably the gold of a fool that kept his eyes shining. A fool’s gold usually gets him killed, and this one will, probably.
Twelve years old, a year earlier than the rest, Thomas, a boy of pale skin, fine brown hair, and piercing green eyes knelt before a girl not a day older. She was a little different, like the consort to the most impeccable innocence. Far-stretching, but true just the same. She had raven-black hair and sapphires for eyes. She granted him a dance, and a fine one at that. They never touched, not once, but when shuffling around one another like a pair of mating birds they were connecting, something more serious, and only a touch more dangerous.
A promise is a promise and that’s just what he did, and when he leant in, their faces almost touched, but he was close enough to use that silver-tongue for something, “Open your window after the dance and come with me for a walk please?”
The young lady smiled, Freya was her name, and she liked his arrogance, and admired his courage. That was dangerous, too; more so. The men in the room chuckled, and drank themselves to sleep telling each other stories of how big and bad they were during the last war. Trinson told stories about how he stood as the big scary wolf with lightning-fast reflexes. Nilvar told stories about how he charged through a hundred men like a mighty boar with his hammer. There were seven others, whose names were not important, not to Thomas, at least, and that’s the one who stayed awake. He was watchful of Alaric’s ire, a boy a few years older who had an eye for the same girl as he, yet could not pluck the courage out of the air around him like Thomas could. Thomas had plenty of that, and if he could have only plenty of one thing it would certainly be courage. He was a fool after all.
Everyone retired to their chambers, filling the rooms of a usually empty castle, and instead of having cold stone walls like it typically felt like, it felt warm. The corridors were littered with standing torches and Thomas had to be careful. He opened the door to his chamber, cracking it open an inch before freezing. His father, Trinson turned, burping and farting his way back to sleep.
So, that’s that. I’m tired, and about to head to bed. If I’ve forgotten anything…. ah yes…
It could be argued my friend is very much in this situation. heh.