After the journey North and all the fallout it was a pleasure to walk to work today. When not in motion little progress is made, the Devil makes work for idle hands. Caught up with some who stayed in the area to go to the pop festival. It is getting even worse by all accounts. Getting from zone to zone requires queing and identification. That Brighton lot whos' structures are magnificent, a wonder to behold, require the right style of dress. Now dress codes have been the bane of my life. Be it travellers frowning on you for being too smart, not wearing a hippy uniform to nightclubs that have inspectors of cool outside to posh do's where the cut of my day suit was miss timed or my tuxedo worn too early. All this elitist bollocks helps expand nothing, it constricts, reduces, spoils. Judge a man by the blook in his eye, not by the cut of his jib nor colour of his skin. This cliquery is akin to raccism. What made Glastonbury worthwhile was the brushing of shoulders with people from tribes you would never meet otherwise. Thirty years ago a tory wouldnt have been seen dead at Glastonbury.
Fuck me this vids taking ages to upload. I could whistle or type on. I'll smoke a little, that great time filler that ultimately reduces your time, its the next 5 you want through yet the 5 at the end each smoke takes away, not even punctuation these days. Cigarrettes were my fullstops in the conversation that was my day, buisness meetings; subconsciously you single out those you feel kinship with then when a break comes all those get up to go for a smoke. Is it a disregard for ones own well being? A negative outlook shared? A disregard for longevity over enjoyment in the moment? Or just fear.
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