Marching Forward into 2011

Dear all:

The sun of 2010 has already set and disappeared resolutely beyond the horizon, leaving me with what feels like a clean state; this state provides me a canvas on which to draw up plans, however feasible, for the forthcoming twelve months. I, for one, have high hopes for 2011; what those hopes entail and where they will lead me is another matter entirely, but I know for sure, that whether trivial or not, I am going to try and enjoy every last second of my experiences.

This is about as upbeat as I can be really, seizing the opportunities when they arise, and attempting, as pro-actively as possibly, to mould my future into a sculpture of emanating beauty; after all, we only live once, so why not? Of course, in the past year I have not always been so full of optimism; far from it, in fact. There have been some lows that have scraped viciously and without remorse at the depths of my humanity, causing murky thoughts, not to mention actions; however, I have unceremoniously thrown away their toxic influence, and moved on the wiser.

However, that being said, the previous year has had many positive moments, ones to remember. Business has been swift and profitable, albeit at times asphyxiating and all-consuming. Nevertheless, I am very aware that nothing in this life can be achieved without graft, nothing; thus, I have thrown myself head-first into the project and, whether the gods are smiling or not, I’m all in.

Kay and I remain as strong as ever, yet we have had a tumultuous 2010 with her ‘so called’ family. Honestly, and with utmost sincerity, to go into details on this issue at this point would result in an unfettered diatribe of bilious battery acid being spat all over my computer, so, for the sake of midday decency, I will refrain from exposing the finer details. In short, Kay and I are hunky-dory, as always.

Aside form making money and prancing about like a meerkat on methamphetamine 15 hours a day, I have spent the last year reading as widely as the slivers of free time that I have allow me. These novels have provided me with essential vitamins, nourishing my mind and, for the best part, prevented the stresses of daily life erupting in a explosive aneurysm. For this I am indebted to Chekov, Camus, Hemmingway, Russell, Hunter Thompson, and last but not least, Bryan Magee on YouTube, for his succinct dissection of the great thinker of our time (Especially Wittgenstein)

Anyway, on that note, I am off to gorge myself on another chapter of Russell’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ that was so generously send to me by one of today’s great philanthropists, Mr. Stephen Hanna.

For all of you who I have now been in touch with in some time, please write back and tell me how life is treating you.

To you all, Have a wonderful and successful 2011.

2010

Balcony New Years Day:

As I finish my first coffee of 2010, an unusually cool breeze sweeps over my body; a welcome relief from the rapidly rising humidity. It's 11am and Cockerels confusingly sing their song of dawn, tricked by the absence of the sun's glare and the momentary dip in temperature. I close my eyes and drift away to a Greek rooftop. There I sit at a wicker table dressed in blue, with fresh bread, feta cheese, and steaming coffee. The white-wash buildings look at me with lustrous eyes, against perfect sky-blue visa - postcard perfect. My Mediterranean fantasy is cut short by a honking horn; a heavily tattooed lady is selling bamboo juice.

So here we have it - 2010. I can't fathom what this year has lying in wait, but; it feels good. Everything is in it's right place. A comfortable realization of mental calmness soothes my soul, leaving me smiling like a man who just found a lost ten pound note. The emerald green trees seductively russle as if attempting to flirt with an unseen entity, while street dogs lick their flees and sniff the ground.

On my left, the restaurant waits patiently for the grand opening day. Then, it's muscles will flex, and vault into action, morphing into a money making machine. Below me my classrooms are filled with the distant echos of last weeks lessons, their white boards covered in verb conjunctions - Everything feels beautifully sedated.

2009 was a year packed to the brim with achievement and nuances, to many to name. One has gorged himself on a buffet on classic literature, greedily attempting to feed an insatiable intellectual diet. The path to personal freedom has been activated by the words of Orwell, Huxley, Flaubert to name but a few; their wondrous texts as sweet as chocolate, and as filling as Christmas dinner.

A insightful individual stated: "When I don't like a piece of music, I make a point of listening to it more closely."
This has been my mantra for 2009. A wave of new music has pounded me like a crashing wave, leaving me at times gasping for air. Certain bands have captivated my imagination, most from the punk, and subsequent post-punk explosion of the late 1970s, and early 1980s. What a sparklingly exciting time for music! The hippy movement had had it's day, and people were tiring of laborious progressive rock of the decade. They found sanctuary in the nihilism of punk-poets like John Cooper Clarke and Mark E Smith. Their sardonic acidic cocktails are potent enough to drunken my psyche for years to come. One simply has to mention Souiex and the Banshees, The Mekons, The Cure, The Fall, The Buzzcocks, The Specials, The Clash, and a plethora of others, who have made my 2009 musicially very special indeed.

This is going to be a good year, I can almost taste it.

Mike