So I'll Stay Up Alone, Set Off On My Own, To The Station Where I Catch The First Train

Earlier today, I went back and wrote about the events of my birthday this year, as I felt I was ill equipped to do so on the day in question for reasons that will become obvious. I'm still not entirely happy with how I've attempted to articulate it. As Daniel Kitson once said, trying to explain the complexity of a thought is akin to giving a monkey a fishing rod and asking it to catch the sky. I'm still searching for the reasons why I feel the way I feel and why things have panned out the way they have to date. You can read it here if you're so inclined.

This evening I have mostly been irritated at Manchester United but I won't go into that. My foot pain has abated to the point where I feel I can proceed with the Frank Turner double bill this Friday and Saturday at the Roundhouse so that's good. I have mostly been listening to Turner's debut record "Sleep Is For The Week" in preparation for Saturday night's show. He has also promised us his debut EP "Campfire Punkrock" which would be a delightful bonus, in particular because "I Really Don't Care What You Did On Your Gap Year" seemed to partly encapsulate my lifestyle as a student. Oh nostalgia. My first Turner gig was nine years ago at the Scala. Holy hell, time flies. Basically I've been waiting for him to revisit this material for a long time and I can't wait.

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