On Duality and the Results of Sleep Deprivation

Thomas Hardy once wrote:
There is a condition worse than blindness, and that is seeing something that isnt there

As I like to say, life has a way of kicking you in the shins the moment you feel like you're on the right track, which is why it's usually best not to acknowledge any form of happiness, at all. That's not say man can't be happy for a prolonged period of time; it's just wiser to refuse to acknowledge said happiness. Pretend to be miserable, and secretely enjoy every second of every day.

It now seems like my friends won't be visiting after all, as they're too busy with school and the likes to make the trip down here. It makes perfect sense of course, and I don't blame them. Some of us screwed school up pretty bad in the past (I'm not pointing any fingers) and passing your degree is simply more important than spending a few days in the Big Smoke. In the end I'm the one that moved countries, and it would be only just if I were the one to make the trip across the Channel to reunite for a little while. With the NFL Draft and the Mayweather fight the beginning of May might be getting quite busy, but I'm sure I'll manage a couple of days. I haven't seen my little brother in ages and even though we do occasionaly speak, it's not the same.

As I worked today's early shift following several night shifts, I once again failed to get some sleep and spent a couple of hours musing as I waited for the sun to rise. London is a fantastic city, but in the past week or so I'd noticed there were certain things it doesn't have, certain aspects of life I was missing. Obviously there's a whole bunch of people back at home I miss every day, but that's not what I mean. I'm talking about the little things, the details right at the edge of the frame that you don't really see until sleep deprivation brings them into the light.

The biggest one is pollution, for sure. No, London isn't dirty (it's not very clean either, as people do have a tendency to just dump their trash on the street and don't respond well to some Belgian kid handing it back to them), but the light pollution is horrible. That might not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me.

As a child, there were few things I loved more in life than stargazing. I'd spend hours looking up at the sky when I thought my parents weren't watching (did you guys ever notice?) and I could completely lose myself in the infinity of what I saw above.

Over the years, I've had the good fortune of spending my time in places that are perfectly suited for stargazing. From the beaches in the middle of the Basque forrests to the solitude of Pigeon Point, far removed from Tobago's capital of Scarborough, I got to look at some of the most beautiful night skies I could ever imagine.

The skies are never truly clear in London. There's just too much light to really see the stars, not to mention the fact this city appears to be in a perpetual state of overcastness (what a word). It might sound stupid, but I miss the stars of home.

Similarly stupid, I miss my car. I never even questioned selling my thrusty Mercedes to help finance this move, without fully realising I loved that car. In fairness, it broke down once, at the most inopportune moment imaginable, but other than that it was a perfectly nice ride. Driving was fun, even though I'd never ever want to drive around London (I'd like to try left-hand shifting once though) and public transport is phenomenal around here anyway. But I literally got my final driver's license days before moving to the UK. It just feels like a shame.

And then there's the duck-dive. Obviously I miss surfing, and I officially stopped being a surfcoach two days ago (license expaired, huzzah!), which in itself is kind of easy to miss. I mean, you get to coach people (and mainly kids) on how to surf. You have all that responsibility, occasionally have to save lives (not bad as far as job satisfaction goes) and get to spend all day at the beach. Do a bit of surfing yourself, get a nice tan and that classic surfer body, chat up a few girls and then get paid. Seriously.

But that first duck-dive of the morning, that's what I miss the most. That feeling of anticipation as you can almost smell the lineup, the first splash of cold water to your face and the grip of the wave passing over you, telling you exactly what kind of session it'll be. Passing right through the storm beneath the surface and into the calm waters right over the shoulder; there's nothing like a perfectly executed duckdive. Incidentally, the ones that end poorly are quiet fun as well: OOPS

I'm not quite sure what the purpose of today's entry was. It's not particularly dramatic or poetic, and seeing how I just finished an eight-hour shift in which I wrote somewhere between 8.000 and 13.000 words, I fail to see why I would feel the need to sit down and write some more. I feel like there's so much I need to tell you all, but i'm all out of words. At least for today.

I'll just leave you lot with a song. Take care guys.


Song of the Day: Circadian Eyes - What Remains of Our Chalk Road.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fqAUPOHxT4U