The Random Bag.

So I am sitting on the floor of my bedroom, clearing through a few items - as this act often clears my head, for a short while anyway. In doing so, I come across an old rucksack/bag of mine. Inside I have collected - over a short period of the last year, a small list of random items, and, as I look before them all, have decided to list each one; as both an interesting account of deciphering portions of my brain, and as a reference point to view, years from now. Anyway, lets have a look inside my mesmeric bag of mysteries...

1. A deck of ASDA Playing Cards; I purchased these in order to show Marissa the one card trick I can perform acurretly - she was amused for about thirty seconds... it was worth it.

2. A dodgy Chinese Mp3 player, without headphones; I was using this for running at the gym, and it still contains a list of Rage Against The Machine, Motorhead, Green Day, and a host of other guitar driven songs of anger and passion... much better to run to, in my view then Tiny Temper, or any of the other lightweight pop stuff we English seem to have a fascination with.

3. An RGB cable; for when I wish to watch laptop movies on my Television - which is not as often as I like.

4. A copy of Matchstick Men on DVD; never seen it, probably never will. Marissa left it here with a copy of Ameile, which I finally came around to viewing, and enjoyed. This is the only DVD in my possession.

5.A postcard of a full grown Tiger, sitting proudly next to a group of baby pigs, all wearing red bows and tiger costumes. Apparently in Thailand, this is to stop the Tiger eating the little porkies. Though she must smell bacon. Why they do this, I have no idea.

6. A black tie; worn for Dennis's funeral. Could also hold up a pair of Hobo's trousers, in an emergency.

7. An unopened Fitness First condom; Would probably break half way through, and still find a way of ripping me off - as opposed to the other way around.

8. Pens, pencils, a stapler, a refillable ink cartridge, a USB stick, a padlock, a bank statement, birthday and Christmas cards, and a shower gel packet; because I didn't want them, but didn't want to throw them away.

9. A solitary school photo of me as an Eight year old; In this shot, I am smiling in a way which I don't know I ever will again. Why do old photos make you want to cry - when they only represent times of innocence and happiness? I think I just answered my own question.

10. A small book - 60 Ways To Change Your Life; it is hardly 1984 or The Alchemist. But hey, it is positive, it is profound in places, and I should keep it with me really... even though I know I wont.

11. Half a draft of a comedy script; this was based on a guy I know, who is a celebrity obsessive. Was pretty funny, but I will store this and all my other fictional writing, for the future. I still get greater satisfaction with writing screenplays than books, but it's pretty close. If anything, this reminds me of my desire to be able to write in any form, and any genre, in a professional way - I believe I can, and will.

12. A small, A5 sized, pink notebook; this contains the very first initial writings of my book. One day it will sit in the British Museum, next to the Magna Carta, and the lyrics to Yesterday by the Beatles. Either that or sit in my bag until I accidentally throw it in the garbage.

13. Black Nail Varnish; tried it once, didn't really suit me. Still, worth an effort.
So that's that. Perhaps in no way deep, profound, or heartfelt. This is a representation of a short period of my life. Something feels missing on first thought. But then, when I think harder, I realize all these items are only of momentary value, and all the real memories are out there, in life. They cannot be contained in a black bag, nor a bedroom. And every other article I have ever written, is simply an account of items in the vast rucksack of my mind... which is full of all manner of despondently exuberant crap.


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