Kitchen

This flat was given to a Chinese woman as divorce settlement from her Scottish ex partner, then rented out to lots of Chinese folk.

When we moved in there were loads of hooks. In cupboards, on doors, not sure what they were used for. I suppose I'll never know. Hanging things on, I expect.

There's an old pre-cable phone number on the Music Box door, written in pencil, 554 etc.

In the kitchen there's an old boiler, on it's last legs. Every function on the face plate has been translated into, what I assume to be, Chinese. Just observations, meaningless history or more accurately; mundane history.

We worry about what will be forgotten or perhaps never even known when the previous generation pass, and indeed when we pass. You have to ask and you have to be asked. Why not just tell? Why wait? If folk don't want to hear they can tune out.

I don't think I'll ever know all the things I want to know, I can't retain all the information I want to retain, it just doesn't stick or there isn't enough time to repeat & absorb.

So, instead of always focussing on the important things, I think about shit folk won't even bother about. It kinda means nothing and it's not in any way supposed to be a rebellion or judgement. I just kinda do it naturally because I am a professional day dreamer...


Watched the first three episodes of the new Yank version of House of Cards, rather enjoyed it. I will watch it all.

Thought I'd give that Derek show a go after. It is utter pish. Managed about 18 minutes of the first 24 minute episode. I will not persevere with it.