Five Years Gone

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After a month of telling myself "I should do something about the design of my blog", I'm finally doing something about the design of my blog. Updated the colour scheme to be a bit less moody and more chipper. The idea is that I came up with the colour scheme way back when I first started studying, back in the old days of  February 2009 when the site was called A Quoi and was solely a blog and was dedicated to writing. I even called it 'the writing blog' in the first entry.

But then it became about drawing, and then I added a page here for a gallery, then I put up a page on how to contact me ad so on and so forth until it became more of a website. Of course I set up a separate blog site, had my named domain redirect to that and it became like a front page for what eventually became a focale of my professional life. After all, the weekly posts of silly university things disappeared and were replaced by bi-monthly posts about ... well, still silly things like how I'm updating the look of my site, but less frequently. In a month it'll be five years that I'll have been running this site and I'm actually quite pleased by it. I've by no means made it the frequent hub of activity I'd wanted it to be, but then again I'm not a superstar writer-animator yet so there's still time.

But this is not an entry to be retrospective in. I've got that one planned for when things start happening, and so far they are not. Well, not really. I'm in London, I'm working freelance but there's still not the break I'm looking for. It's annoying, seeing everyone you graduated with get there...

But it's not that kind of blog entry either. No mopey shit here. Really this is all about how my site is blue now and not grey and has, I am happy to say, come a long way from the days of A Quoi. God what a stupid title it was (but then again, what does the Inflamed Time mean?)

I'm going to need to find a more reliable source of making a slideshow gallery through something other than Flikr because those ones keep crashing and right now they're just not working. The gallery and links needs updating. Maybe the bio, too. It's been over a year since I wrote it. It still says I'm 22 years old.

I am a file hoarder - I almost never throw away a decent document or picture or video I've made or received - but it means I have an excellent archive of crap. And it means I can do needlessly comparative and retrospective things such as this:

2010

2011


2014

But, like I said, this was not a retrospective entry. Now look how often you've gotten me to write retrospective.

Oh, what the hell. Here's a story called A Quoi. I wrote it two weeks before starting the blog. And it's best read with this playing in the background. (Now you know where I got the title).




A Quoi?


Hey, there. You remember me, right?

That time, up in the Continent, where you had no idea of what you were doing, or where you going, mainly because the language just passed right over your head despite those three years doing the course. Oh well, guess that proves how much you can really learn in a classroom, eh?

I have to admit, that wasn't the first time I saw someone argue over cotton candy, but he seemed completely adamant that you buy it, and you had no one to help you out, because your friends had thought it was a good idea to run off and make out on the Ferris wheel or whatever it was they were doing. Good job for them, or I never would have been able to have saved you from the wrath of that cotton candy man. 

After realising that there was no way you could win on that shooting gallery, despite looking really keen on getting your hands on that bear, you thought it would be a good idea to ditch that money-grabbing festival of lights and accordion music; your friends knew you could handle yourself. They wouldn't have left you to handle that cotton candy thing if they didn't know it, after all.

Shame you spent your money trying to get that oversized bear that would never have fit through the door of the house, let alone anywhere in your room. It's all right, cos my place wasn't that far away; if you didn't mind the ten-minute walk through that boulevard, you remember the one, right? It had those twisted trees and those lights that made everything look scarier than it really was as I found out the next morning that what you thought was a dead dog was only a pile of leaves.

Can't for the life of me remember what was in that bottle that I was serving up but it must have tasted something amazing or we wouldn't have gone through it in that short amount of time. Can't find the stuff anywhere else, now. Don't think I could drink it any more anyway.

There was that Scrabble you thought you were winning at but then you knocked the bottle over and the scores got soaked in red and no one could read them? And you couldn't stop laughing even though some of it had soaked into your shirt and my couch … that was hell hard to remove. You were laughing and apologising at the same time, and then knocked the bottle over a second time but it was empty then anyway, so you thought it would be a good idea to look at what else I had, and went through that small white wine I didn't even know I had.

It must've been early morning at least by the time we got to sleep, but I woke up at seven anyway the next morning. Probably out of force of habit or something, I don't know. 

And there was note from you. Your number and that apology for leaving so briskly...

I still have it. Wouldn't dare lose it anywhere.

You remember, right? Well, either way I remember you. You said these were your favourite flowers. I hope I'm not mistaken. That would be hell awful of me. Anyway, I'll leave it here for you. Maybe you'll see it later. Maybe you're looking at it now...

Don't worry. I remember. I always will.







Maybe tonight I'll stay up and write, like I used to do. Maybe I'll finally get some stuff done.









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