I can smell something in this town. I’m pretty sure it’s the sewage plant located alarmingly close to the residential areas.

But there’s a small part of me that thinks Morwell is just really close to some old ham. A really, really big chunk of old ham lies far too close to this town, and the townspeople suffer from it. It’s bacterium (“infectosludge”, as legend will have it) worms its way in to the brains of the locals and begins to rot. This leads to several unfortunate side effects, ranging from toothlesness to horrid obesity to the desire to mate with a sock reguarly. But I’m just speculating here.

My cat is lying on my bed wailing. It has been doing this for several hours. I considered calling an ambulance. I don’t think they’d be very happy though.

High Fidelity

April 9, 2010

Only people of a certain disposition are frightened of being alone for the rest of their lives in their twenties. I was of that disposition. Everything seemed much later than it was.

I couldn’t fill a room. I don’t mean that I didn’t have enough stuff. I have loads of books and hundreds of CDs, and my room’s pretty small anyway. I mean that I didn’t seem loud enough, or powerful enough, so that I was always conscious that the only space I occupied was that taken up by my body. I couldn’t project like most people can.

Sometimes I tried, when I was out with people even quieter than me; I never talked about why I suddenly became shriller and louder, but I’m sure I knew that it happened. I did it to compensate for the fact that life was going on elsewhere, other people were together, having a better time than me with people more glamorous than me, and making a noise was sort of a defiant gesture, a futile but necessary last stand (You can see this everywhere you go, young middle-class people making too much noise in restaurants and clubs. ‘Look at me! I’m not as boring as you think I am! I know how to have fun!’ Tragic. I’m glad I learned to stay home and sulk.)

Mine was a marriage of convenience as cynical and mutually advantageous as any.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.