Colourful mind

Such fun. my mind hasn't done this in ages. Run fantastically colourful tangents following every thought path and so reliving aspects of the day in a strangely inspired way. Complaints about Connex. Appoligies to the one I normally have this conversation with as you almost got a message however my inability to be bothered learning how to use the dictionary in my phone properly and hence slowish method of letter by letter hadn't quite spelled out my annoyance and thanks for your previous message, when the train started moving again. So I deleted the message before it was sent. My technology intrest has not yet breached the mobile gap. Ever moving as it is. Aside from the slight deviation of speed, the train home was exceptionally boring aside from a good hour of 'the Heart of Gold', follooping mattresses named Zem and 2 second whale realities (although thats been a few weeks now) aka. Hitchhikers (Guide to the Galaxy, the books following), there were boring passengers. One while still boring, annoyed me no end when she opens her dim-sim semblanced chicken and stunk out the carriage. I have no problem with others eating on the train, hence the flake I grabbed on the way out of work and the apple I ate, reminiscent of breakfast I ate, also on the train. But food that smells. Likened to profound 'why oh why' moments of when you sit next to a smoker or some nose blocked old lady drowning in perfume. No work tomorrow. Some stroke of pure loveliness. Don't get me wrong I like work, but I am half burnt and exceptionally in need of a holiday. When hearing it I could have gone hysterically mad crying from relief. But as that is a very unBec thing to do, I didn't. It is also a slight exaggeration. I could say it 'put a spring in my step' but I am too tired for that and for the moment that's oldfashioned. A smile is as close as I got to the former. Seeing as I am refering to methods of being unBec'ish I will complain about something girly, because it is a rare thing that I give it half a vocal thought. Skin. Much to do with my tendancy of getting absorbed in the book I'm reading, the window I'm staring out of or the faces I am observing while having my hand on my forehead, chin, cheek, you name it. Comparable to Saturn at the moment. Having been enlightened by the MX (some prototype of a newspaper) that Saturn's mysterious 'blue lakes' are actually closely related to ethane, and hence there just must be volcanoes below this swirlling mass of cloudy whatever and no such marvellous lakes afterall. Metaphorically. I shall have to hope that volcano likened pimples disappear under a swirlling mass of something esle. Again I exaggerate to the severity of the situation. Again I could blame this on Connex. Although travelling from point A to point B is a useful thing so I wont. Had some Switchfoot song trailing patterns in my head all day. I can't remember it now. Walking down Bridport St with one wet sock to return the majority of the addressed envelopes I found on the floor at work. Noticed that the Albert Park yuppieville has finally begun to show it's true self. Normality, eccentricity and the 'quirks' that inspire my mind. I like this place. In addition to my fabled orange door. There appeared a few doors up and multicoloured bench seat, each rung different to eachother, a plain quite nice terrace house was immediately transformed into something vastly more interesting. A door up from that was evidence of normality in the way of a very normal looking pair of dirty runners. Finding evidence of life aside from the traditional thursday manicurist patrons was pleasant. Saying thus, I am walking the street backwards. In reality, it was the shoes, then bench, then my door. I like drivers who wave you across so you don't have to wait any longer in the puddle you were already standing in. And now the wordsmithing streak has run fairly dry. I am not drunk. I have never been drunk. I have been thinking I would like to experience this, in that a friends theory determines that I would be a happy not angry drunk... and would say ridiculous things. If it is in anyway like the way I go when on cold and flu tablets it would certainly be the case. Experience, but externally. More for the aspect that I would like to see what I would say and hence get a better look at what's really going on in my head. Enough twisted logic I say! I do not want to get drunk. This is purely evidence of my extraverted quirk tainted mind.