I Hate Trains, Pt II

"I got off at the other end of the platform so had to walk (for me) a long way to get to the escalators. By the time I'd reached the queue at the bottom of the stairs, the next lot of commuters were getting off their train and were joining me. Slightly pointless comment, but I guess it does prove that ramming yourself onto the first train and forcing yourself to endure someone's sweaty armpit is completely pointless if you can just bear to wait a whole minute for the next train."

- Morgan Shaw

I Hate Trains

Recently, I've written a lot about how my life has changed a lot for the better, in no small part due to the wonderful influence of a certain, undeniably beautiful Miss Morgan Shaw (yep, let's begin with an entrée of mozzarella - start as you mean to continue, and all that). However, it's not all been plain sailing through the comfortably still waters of Lake Wonderful, there are certain parts of our day to day life that certainly have introduced new forms of discomfort, awkwardness and general loathing.

I am, of course, talking about trains.

No Smoking

Sometimes in life, I find at least, there are certain events of conversations that occur that, even as a writer, you just couldn't make up. Sometimes these things happen that you just come away from not entirely certain of what actually went on. Did I really see that? Did that really just happen to me?

An Exercise In Naked Rawness

11-11-13 - Kingston Gate Pub, Kingston Hill

I have a short time before I meet Morgan again, so I'm sitting here in a pub, the Kingston Gate, with a rum and coke and just writing. I wanted this to be an exercise in just random writing within a time limit, so whatever I get done between now (20.05) and when she arrives to meet me, is what I post, so forgive me if it ends suddenly and without resolution, that's just how it's going to go this time.

A Writers Intro

I once made the mistake of telling my family that I wanted to write Cyberpunk. This prompted an endless barrage of questions, including the obvious "What the hell is Cyberpunk?". My best answer at the time was that it was a genre of Science Fiction set in dystopian futures and often involved computers and hackers. Why was this a mistake? For the next few years I was constantly inundated with cries for help 'fixing' whatever bit of technology had most recently caused issues. I say 'fixing', but it was very rare that the device was actually broken, more that my poor family hadn't quite figured out how the damned thing worked. This only eventually subsided when people began to realise that I had very little advice to offer beyond that old Tech-Support cliché of "Have you tried turning it off and on again?"

The Dichotomy Of Hero & Villain

I don't think it's fair of me to go into full details on what inspired this blog entry, but Morgan and I have been talking recently about a break-up she's currently still riding the aftershocks of, in which she is feeling the pains and difficulties of being 'the bad guy' despite her best efforts. It's a complex situation that, as I said, it's not my place to write an open commentary of, but our discussions did get me to thinking of the duality of the states of Hero  and Villain, and the shades of grey that these two supposed archetypes actually encompass.

Our Mr. Baggins

     I write this on a train to Swansea, that has just left Reading station. I use this as the start of this blog purely as an exercise in vanity. To the unknowing reader, this statement is fairly empty and has little immediate meaning, hopefully prompting an inquisitive mind to keep going. To those who know me, this fact is wholly alien and unusual. Why? I live in Epsom, to the south west of London, quite some distance from here, so to find me this far flung from my quiet home in Surrey is certainly not the norm. Or at least it wasn't until recently.