feels like Sunday

17°C, thick clouds all over the sky.

Sixty-one miles

as Morrissey said " Every day is like Sunday" . Relevant because I went cycling today ( instead of yesterday), it didn’t rain today. Not much to say for collecting anecdotes, I do have that feeling that it doesn’t matter how much I eat- I’m still hungry. As I write, I eat a bowl of cerial, that’s to top up after dinner and pudding.
The cycling was easy, made a decent pace, and felt little sign of tiredness even in the last tens of miles ( of sixty).
Unbroken clouds today, whichis quite a change from the summer’s weather, the air is milky but distant landscapes are dark. Curious because they have been light recently, nearly as light as the low sky. No point worrying about it now. Actually, I am thinking about that next painting, it had beter be good after all that time considering before I even begin! Every so often, he gets the Peter Howson book, this may be a break from Burnt umber.
Today is remarkable: no coincidences, no anecdotes and nothing ironic happened. In fact (who is the guy) who said that nothing is ironic in Alanis Morrissette’s song "Ironic", the only ironic thing about it is that it contains no irony, just co-incidences. he may be right.
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1 Response to feels like Sunday

  1. Emily says:

    your space freaks me out dude lolvery interestin tho you an art teacher or sometlol luv yazEmy


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