Where I make resolutions like I made sand castles, with a plastic bucket and a pair of hands, my architectural brilliance dazzling everyone within a 3-mile radius

True story. When I made sand castles (and here the understanding of the term “castle” may be stretched to include pile of mud), they were absolutely brilliant. Some of them had trenches and some of them were slightly odd-shaped and a couple of them were very, very temporary. But I could make them for hours, just plonking my bum on the sand and piling mud and sand and wet mud and more sand.


Today, I have decided, is the day I will start officially training for my next half marathon which is 8 weeks away.

I have decided that I will be dedicated and disciplined and will tightly walk on the prescribed path of success.

There will be no consumption of alcohol (or any other tripological substances), there will be regular exercise and the implementation of early-to-bed-early-to-rise philosophy.

Not only will I better my PB of 2:49 but I shall do so by a considerable margin, perhaps even break into the 2:30’s.

True story. No really. True story.

Fuck. With the way I am going, I will be lucky to even finish the bloody thing.

Anyway, a goal in mind is what is required. A goal. A finality. That is what strives you on. The cheque or the smile or the feeling or the number. Or is the hope?

There is something bhery bhery asymmetrical about my writing these days. There is something wrong. Must investigate.


I wonder what an atheist feels while walking through a church or a temple. Is there complete silence (like the TV on mute) or is there a hundred questions like “Oh, what colour is that window?” and “I wonder what Josh is doing right now” and “Oh my god, that statute would look so fantastic on my balcony”.

I wonder.


How do you know when you are over your ex?

Simple. How often do you think of them?

With or without clothes?

The answers are self explanatory.

Hmmm, I should start making up those personality decoding tests. I hear there is some serious money in there. Plus, that is what magazines are for. You sift through the pages and then chance upon this questionnaire and then you take it since the bloody doctor is going to take forever so you might as well while away your time.

“How do you react when your toe meets a hard rock”

“Your most likely reaction upon finding bits of pigeon intestine on your toothbrush would be…..”

And so on and so forth.



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7 Responses to Where I make resolutions like I made sand castles, with a plastic bucket and a pair of hands, my architectural brilliance dazzling everyone within a 3-mile radius

  1. D says:

    When/where is this half marathon?

  2. I wasn’t thinking about my ex, but I am now. Wonder what that says about me…

  3. Anonymous says:

    glad to see you’re public again.. 🙂

  4. Anonymous says:

    i did too. but then i corrected it. (n i was kind enough to avoid the obvious joke. tch tch)

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