sunday the first of october
Morning all,
So, by the time you read this it will be Monday, probably. That is, unless, my mum is checking this on Sunday; unless moo has actually gone out and bought herself a lappy; unless it is my sister or Lotte, or just about anyone really. The world of telecommunications really isn't limited anymore is it? I'll start again.
So, it is probably Sunday morning or maybe Monday morning and depending upon who it that's reading this, you may or may not be hungover. You may have plans for today, your plan may just be to grab the paper and sit for the duration. If that is your plan, then I am jealous. And not just because I am at work and not just because I am about as far away from hungover as it is possible to be – it is Ramadan don’t you know – I am jealous because I miss the paper. I miss its heft and girth (MA) I miss its depth and irreverence. I miss the fact that papers at home do not suck up to the king and do not contrive to never offend anyone that may - or may not - be important.
Goddamn it, I miss the leftist intelligentsia that masquerades as the Guardian/Observer editorial team.
Anyway. It is the first day of a new month both literally and figuratively. It is the first of October and also the first day of the November cycle for Bahrain Confidential. As such, there is very little for me to do at this exact moment in time. And so the blog is getting some attention. I am gonna post a couple of things this morning. One is a rant, but not the rant I thought it would be when I first started writing it. And the other is a story, of sorts. Really it is just the description of a dream, and not a very satisfactory one at that. But it is my realisation de jour – well, actually month but I don’t know what that is in French (O, it’s mois, apparently) – and quite a revelation it was too. Although, it is a beet hippy dippy, obviously.
What else? Not a lot really. Hope you are all good. Take it easy.
XxX
So, by the time you read this it will be Monday, probably. That is, unless, my mum is checking this on Sunday; unless moo has actually gone out and bought herself a lappy; unless it is my sister or Lotte, or just about anyone really. The world of telecommunications really isn't limited anymore is it? I'll start again.
So, it is probably Sunday morning or maybe Monday morning and depending upon who it that's reading this, you may or may not be hungover. You may have plans for today, your plan may just be to grab the paper and sit for the duration. If that is your plan, then I am jealous. And not just because I am at work and not just because I am about as far away from hungover as it is possible to be – it is Ramadan don’t you know – I am jealous because I miss the paper. I miss its heft and girth (MA) I miss its depth and irreverence. I miss the fact that papers at home do not suck up to the king and do not contrive to never offend anyone that may - or may not - be important.
Goddamn it, I miss the leftist intelligentsia that masquerades as the Guardian/Observer editorial team.
Anyway. It is the first day of a new month both literally and figuratively. It is the first of October and also the first day of the November cycle for Bahrain Confidential. As such, there is very little for me to do at this exact moment in time. And so the blog is getting some attention. I am gonna post a couple of things this morning. One is a rant, but not the rant I thought it would be when I first started writing it. And the other is a story, of sorts. Really it is just the description of a dream, and not a very satisfactory one at that. But it is my realisation de jour – well, actually month but I don’t know what that is in French (O, it’s mois, apparently) – and quite a revelation it was too. Although, it is a beet hippy dippy, obviously.
What else? Not a lot really. Hope you are all good. Take it easy.
XxX
posted by Tim Heidi Arthur Kofi X at 5:59 am
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