KEEP LOCKED AT ALL TIMES!

‘What was that?’ Alice said as she grabbed hold of Sally’s arm afraid of the sound that she had just heard. Sally said nothing, because there was nothing that could be said. She wasn’t aware of what that was, or who that was, or even what kind of sound they had both just heard. She had never heard this sound before, so how on earth could she answer, when she too was wondering what exactly ‘that’ was.

The noise was coming from behind a door, but this wasn’t just any door, this was a door that no one had ever been in to or out of before. Or at least this is what they believed. It had a small but poignant sign engraved on the front that read:

                       ‘KEEP LOCKED AT ALL TIMES’

But there was no key that anyone knew of, so therefore no way to get in to or out of the room. This was their fisrt home together and this was the only room in the entire house, that neither of them had actually seen. The house was of course an absolute steal, but they had both thought nothing of it. Whenever they had previously viewed the house, the estate agent had always informed them that students were staying in the room, or that unfortunately building work was taking place so they were unable to view it. He had shown them the plans and insisted that if anything, this was the best room in the house. But there was always something quite suspicious about the sign, and the fact that there was a sign on the door in the first place. The agent had always acted strangely positive about this one room, and had always rushed through their questions never really fully answering any of them.

The message was peculiar, almost too peculiar, and it had echoed within Sally’s thoughts every day since they had moved in, and if she was honest, every day since they had first viewed the place. But she put it down to silliness and continued with the sale regardless. These 5 words, and in particular the 3 words at the end would unnervingly repeat in her head over and over again everytime she would pass the door:

          AT ALL TIMES! AT ALL TIMES! KEEP LOCKED AT ALL TIMES!

She couldn’t shake it off. She dreamt about it, day dreamed about it, had nightmares about it, and had even forgotten to run simple errands because all she was ever thinking about was this damn door, and what exactly was behind it. It had been 3 months since they had moved in, and 2 months and 29 days since the first ‘episode’ had occurred. They would often hear strange sounds and what they thought was movement behind the door, but they both deliberately tried to ignore it and instead focused on absolutely everything and anything else they could. 

Until one day without any warning, everything changed. It was a normal day much like any other as Alice and Sally woke up and went downstairs for breakfast. As Sally approached the corridor on this particular day expecting to see the same old sign upon the same old locked door, she instead saw something entirely different. In that moment, fiction as she knew it, become fact. She gasped as she fell back against the wall. Alice came running out of the bedroom to see what all the fuss was about. She stopped, inhaled deeply but did not exhale, and she paused. They both stood as still as anything as the door, that had always remained closed, slowly but surely, started to creek open...

End

Your average Saturday night…10pm.

Spinning around you bounce off the walls, immersed in the adrenaline and captivated by the release of energy spilling out from your very being. Your whole being. The very essence of what makes you, you, is apparent. The pull of the sounds keeps pumping around, you move. Up, down, this way that way, a whirl wind of emotions embraces you making your senses heightened to the point where they cannot be heightened anymore. You sense EVERYTHING. You are EVERYTHING. Alive...you dance. 

You feel, you see, you hear, you move, you taste, you touch, you love, you learn, you live. Everything is now, everything is here, everything is happening in this one moment. You are this moment. You think. Don’t think. DO! You breathe, and as you breathe you feel the oxygen rushing through your lungs spurring you on and making you want to go further, making you want to continue.

Six hours and you are still going. The sun sets, the sun rises and you’re still going. It keeps you going, don’t crash yet, you can’t crash yet! Hold your head up, hold your head up high. Push on, move on, move around, push on and feel yourself feeling the music until suddenly BOOM - you hit the wall. Stop. No, don’t stop, move. Carry on, spin, swirl, jump, bounce until BOOM - it hits you again. You’re quickly falling, you’re crawling even. You hit the floor, you spin around and you hit the floor, you fall, you crash, you finish, you’re finished. You’re through. You leave hoping that someone will leave with you. They do, it’s over, you’re home. Sleep now, sleep.

Morning. Still spinning, but this time its the room and not you. You rise, you fall. Nothing moves. You try to rise again. You fall again. Eventually you rise, you slowly attempt to make some form of warm beverage and cooked bread. You drink, you eat. You struggle. The hours seem to speed by with no real effort and no real achievement from your part. You read only the messages from the night before, you cringe. You look at only the photo’s from the night before, you cringe. Everything is still, you are still. Nothing changes for hours, apart from the feeling in the pit of your stomach. One of sickness and also one of dread as the memories return with no real conclusion. No real answer. You send new messages, you receive answers.

You sit, you watch, you rise, quicker this time. You drink. Water is your new best friend. Water is your only friend. You drink. The hours past by and the evening soon arrives. Finally it’s time, time for the end of the day, to end. It happens, its here. Its over. You sleep.     

End.    

Who needs pavements anyway?!

Every single day at approximately 9.55pm, I look out my window to take in my last thought of the day. I reflect on the past 24 hours and remember the events that have occurred good and bad. I look out of my window, sometimes I open it, sometimes I don’t. I look into the darkness, across the night sky filled with thousands of stars that are covered up by thousands of misty clouds. I look down my street wondering why no one else is ever doing the same. At more or less the exact same time every evening I see a man. A man that walks with such purpose and confidence that nothing, not even time nor space will stand in his way and stop him from reaching his final destination…wherever that may be.

 

He walks completely straight ahead, down this surprisingly long road with absolutely no intention to move to either the left or the right of himself. He avoids the pavements like the plague. But unlike the plague, there are no rats or urine just slabs of concrete covered up by the dim glow of the amber street lights above. He avoids the pavements, he dismisses the pavements. With complete conviction he walks on the outer side of the parked cars and is almost in the middle of the road, but yet remains cautious and slightly to one side.

 

It is a particularly quiet street, which is not to say that every now and then a car doesn’t race along avoiding the breaks (much like the man with the pavements) and slamming ridiculously fast into the 5 or so speed bumps. Upon unexpectedly seeing this bearded man of around 5’11 bombing down the street, they slow down.  They expect him to move on to the pavement where all pedestrians are expected to be. He does not move. He just keeps walking at a considerably fast speed with an expression as dead as a pan upon his face. He doesn’t swerve in between any of the parked cars, he just walks forward. 

 

I look at this man and watch his daily routine most evenings in anticipation that something might change - an inch nearer to the pavement perhaps, or a slower paced leisurely stroll. He never changes. I often worry that he may one day look up at the window and see me looking down at him, but he never does. He just continues to look straight ahead, moving his arms forcefully backwards and forwards making them sway to the side of him like a Lieutenant, or a Major, or just perhaps your average solider marching along in an unknown war. I imagine him recreating what perhaps he once saw through those eyes. Perhaps what he once saw in his past.

Maybe he is going somewhere, maybe he is not. Maybe he is just a figment of my imagination. Maybe. Do other people see this man? Do other people care? Of course there is no law to say that you have to use the pavement, but if no one did then what would become of them? If everyone was like the man who dismisses the pavements then would pavements seize to exist at all? Would the pavements become extended sections of the road?  

Who knows, maybe this man does. Maybe he has all the answer, maybe he is going somewhere to find them. Maybe he has a fear of the pavement…is that possible? What would it be called? Pavementobia? One things for sure, I’ll see him again tonight, and tomorrow and I’ll continue to wonder and continue to question, the man who dismisses the pavements. 

Next time on Your Head Not Mine… Does Pavementobia actually exist? Will I ever see the man again? And will I ever find out if he does in fact have all the answers? Tune in soon to find out! BOOM!

MODERN TECHO!

Sitting at lunch with the family on Easter Sunday is always a brilliant experience to say the least. The different characters make it hard not to imagine that I am taking part in some form of Shakespearian play with star crossed lovers at one end of the table, and a man transforming into a donkey at the other end. 

Whilst enjoying my roast spuds that have been smothered in the most delicious homemade gravy, I am suddenly aware of how far the world has come since Shakespearian times. My 2 year old niece runs around the table to join me in my seat. She stretches out her arms for me to pick her up and once settled, she starts to play with my ‘non touch screen phone’, swiping from left to right and not fully understanding why she is unable to do so. 

I try to explain to her that once upon a time there were no touch screen mobile phones, and actually long before that…no phones at all. As she looks at me with a confused expression upon her face, it suddenly dawns upon me that children today are growing up in such a fast paced technology driven environment, that they may not ever fully understand the history of technology and how far we’ve actually come.

I am not about to launch into a spill on how we should be teaching children the importance of getting out more and exercising instead of sitting in a dark room in front of a computer screen, as I believe that this actually (on the whole) isn’t what children are doing…thanks to devises such as ‘Wii fit’ and ‘Scvngr’ – a game that encourages people to explore, and perform challenges in different locations. Instead I am merely suggesting that children should understand the benefits of such products and perhaps use them with an ounce of understanding of the history behind them and how we have come to the point where we are now.

I realise that this blog is completely different from my usually style of writing. I too am missing the use of 10 thousand metaphors and the hat tilt to ‘a world of imagination’, but I just thought I’d put it out there as it is what is currently on my mind, and let’s face it, my usual style is to just write whatever is on my mind no matter how awful it is anyway, so I suppose if we're honest it’s not really, all that different.

Next time on Your Head Not Mine: A fascinating look into an average man who walks along the road and imagines the road walking along him –  there is is! SENSELESS! Tune in soon….BOOM!

One Word: Titanic!

Titanic. The literal meaning of this word according to the English dictionary is ‘of/or containing titanium, especially in the tetravalent state’. After reading this I was now faced with the task of looking up the word ‘tetravalent’ and then soon after the word ‘valence’. Finally the goose had been caught and I discovered that in its most basic sense ‘Titanic’ is something that contains titanium to the sum of four. The word ‘Titan’ is then also offered to me as a reminder of its enormous size, strength and power. So, it’s no wonder that the tragically infamous and (at the time) largest ship in the world containing 4 huge funnels (one of which was fake), was given, quite frankly, it’s only suitable name. 

Many people ask me why I have such a fascination with the British luxury liner that sank in the North Atlantic Sea after colliding with an iceberg and killing over 1,500 people resulting in several court cases, changes in law and conspiracy theories. [PAUSE FOR THOUGHT] …I’m not sure if the previous sentence in itself sums this up, but if it doesn’t then I will continue in a way that perhaps you’ll understand better. 

Imagine running a marathon. You train and you train for years and years, until both your mind and body become completely entwined with one another, creating the ultimate machine that can, and will, take on anything in its course. Nothing will stand in its way, not even that delicious bar of the most incredible tasting chocolate known to man, or even that 350grams of Cathedral City Cheddar that just won’t quit. Finally after successfully avoiding all of the above, the day of the 26 mile run arrives. All of your friends and family wave you off at the starting point as you race forward passing everyone in sight, and looking quite literally forward to that all important finishing line and what it may bring. 

The half-way point comes and goes and you have only stopped twice to sip some spring water, and to tie up your shoe lace (silly mistake). As your breath becomes stable and you can almost see the end of the road ahead of you, you begin to feel super pleased and proud with yourself and your ability to speed up during the last 4 miles when all of a sudden, BAM - you hit the wall! You stop! You can’t move forward, you can’t move backwards, so you just stop. That’s all you can do.

Slowly but yet surely your legs give way and collapse sinking down to the ground, without much warning at all. You hit the hard concrete pavement below as the loud crashing sound of your limbs attracts a worried crowd. You lie there hopelessly on the floor as the medics run over with bandages in hand, to assist you as you continue screaming out for help. But they are just too late, and there is no chance for you now. After being told that you will never run a marathon again you realise, this is it for you now. Your legs are in ruins. Your time has come and gone. This is the end of the line and your running days will remain ‘only in your memory’. 

…Now imagine that, add a couple of thousand people, a large boat and some ice and you’ve got the Titanic! Fascinating stuff right?! ...Oh well, a girl can try.

She takes a deep breath and collapses on the floor...

She sits beside an angry chimpanzee in a dark and otherwise empty room, mentally searching for the explosives that she believes are hidden in the walls. A jam jar suddenly but yet very slowly appears as if from nowhere and rolls towards her hitting her left foot...'I'VE GOT IT' She shouts as she imagines a light bulb appear above her head. 'The answer...the answer to the existence of the entire universe is....' She takes a deep breath and collapses on the floor!  

When she wakes... she looks up, not right and not left, she just looks up. She knows that she can’t look down, or all around so she just looks up. It's not reality what she sees in the clouds above her head. It’s not correct. It’s fiction, not fact. It’s somewhere between what is real and what is fake. She looks up. She sees a conclusion, an end to everything she knew to be the truth. She then sees a new beginning appearing in front of her closed eyes. She sees images of everything she had ever been told was fantasy. She keeps looking up almost scared to look down, until something catches her attention, a flicker of light catches her attention.

She takes a deep breath and she looks down. The chimpanzee has disappeared, the jam jar is no longer on its journey towards her left foot. Everything she knew or at least everything she thought she knew was gone. Vanished. Reality hits her like walking into a newly replaced glass panelled patio door. Ouch! This place seemed more like a nightmare to her, and what can only be described as utter devastation. 

She starts to vigorously slap herself several times in the face. She rubs her eyes in an attempt to understand the chaos that is happening all around her. Nothing she does changes anything. Hundreds of people are now running around frantically pushing and pulling each other like bulls in a ring. She has come back down from the clouds, the empty room is now completely full, and as she reaches into her right pocket to remove her most sacred item, she is suddenly thrown down on to the floor like a pile of unwashed clothes. She quickly gets up without help from anyone else, and is exactly where she was at the very beginning.

24 hour BIG Tesco's. She holds her club card to the sky and takes a deep breath as she collapses on the floor once again. She wakes up for the final time to a devastatingly loud and booming voice.

‘Please place your item in the bagging area’ 

End