Nice Weather For Airstrikes.

There is no linear movement. Not outside of physics. Nothing tangible or irrational or essentially human follows a simple path. There is no use for market analysis on human behaviour. In the 19 years i’ve spent on this earth, this is one of the few things i’ve really truly learnt. Nobody can quite tell you why or how people do the things they do, give up their dreams and get a day job, find god and regret their tattoos, chop and change and start all over. 

Being governed by a combination of highly sensitive chemical balance and delicate neural connections has both its ups and downs. On the one hand, faced with a sword-wielding crackhead standing over your at 3am just as you wake up to the too-familiar sound of a daikatana being unsheathed*, you stand a pretty good chance of moving fast enough to avoid that intial blow, thanks mostly to instinctive safety mechanisms created by aforementioned neural connections. The rest, however, is up to you. On the other hand you may find your mood, as i do, effected irrationally by small things like the weather and resultingly spend all day at work pondering over the same four or five minute details of human behaviour from the night before which you are no doubt overanalyzing.


*i have been playing way too much Shenmue.

Monday. I have overshot the same door all day moving trolley-loads of boxes of whogivesafuck back and forth across campus. I’m pushing doors marked pull and pulling doors that i know full well are locked. Mentally absent.

A small group of people have stopped and are looking at something on the street. I follow their gaze to a crowded intersection. Two police cars block traffic in either direction. A large truck marked “Quarantine” is parked across the road, obscuring something from view. The man running the Scooter Hire adjacent is closing up early. A small asian man is pacing on the grass, wringing his hands nervously. The word ‘Quarantine’ naturally makes people uneasy in a port town.

On the odd chance their might be some free shit, i start walking towards the scene. As i get closer and closer to the intersection i notice a few small details. Six police in total are on the scene. Nothing has been properly blocked off but traffic has been redirected. As i pass the truck i get a proper view of what was previously obscured. A shiny black mazda RX-8, its whole front end peeled off. The driver, i guess, is the small asian man. There is minor damage to the Quarantine truck. This is just a run-of-the-mill prang.

“Damn” I say to nobody in particular “I was gonna put this story in my blog.”


~ by montaguedross on February 16, 2009.

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