Spent last night noodling around on my bass guitar – a good hour with a drum loop and the bass just noodling and getting lost in the noodling. Despite there being no recordings done, I was somehow satisfied by this noodling. This seems to be my main mode of operation at the moment.

As the days pass, as the time marches on, I realise that as you grow older, you lose some of that “brilliance” you had in your youth, the drive that kept you interested in a project for any period of time. Instead, I am turning into a drifter, just drifting in and out of things. It annoys me that I used to have so much focus. I was like a laser beam, but now I am just a drifter, an amorphous blob of a man. I know I should finish that novel that I am halfway through, but I just can’t be bothered. I know I should get my stuff together and finish the artwork for “I am Not Your Enemy” so I can put that CD on sale, but again I can’t be bothered. I just don’t see the point. I go to bed every night aware of my mortality (like I have done since I realised that we have a brief time here when I was seven years old) and totally unable to make proper use of my waking hours. All the time I know that tomorrow it could all be over and instead of grasping the day and not being so afraid of the world and of people, I continually waste my time. On my gravestone it will read: “Failed to live up to his potential”. I realise that by being creative I am trying to stave off the decay that comes with the mortal life. I live in the misguided belief that I’ll leave something behind – either a pile of crappy CDs that no-one wants to listen to, half-hundred weight of manuscripts no-one wants to read and god knows how many magazine articles that I’ve written. Unfortunately, I know that this isn’t going to work. We are all worm food in the end, right? No one gets out of this alive!

I just wish I could have been a bit more confident when I was younger, a bit more sure of myself, but it’s just not me. If I ever have children there’s only one bit of advice I would give them: “Don’t ever be afraid.”

Anyway, I digress. I apologise, dear reader, for that stream of consciousness nonsense. You didn’t come here for that, you came here for wacky Darren. You came here for the funny man to make you laugh and tell you about the infinite minutiae of my daily life. 🙂
Yesterday, cooked a fantastic Easter Sunday lunch of roast chicken. This was topped off by Christmas pud and custard and washed down with some expensive champagne. I like to celebrate our Lord with food and booze. Hurrah! In the afternoon, a DVD showing of “The Incredibles” – I enjoyed this much more than when I saw it at the cinema. I still think that Mrs Incredible is the best character and the whole story should have been centered around her.

Today, working in the front garden, mowing the lawn and tidying up. Then I played at being the good son and mowed my mother’s lawn. But we spent a good chunk of time just chatting and gossiping.

Tonight, who knows? The remnants of that chicken need to be devoured (though Alex the Wonderdog has dibs on all the mucky meat we don’t want) and we have some Christmas pudding left. I’ve got “A Mighty Wind” stored on the box, so that might be tonight’s viewing.
Joke of the Day: there is no joke of the day.

« »