I like my steak medium. (I never used to like stake.) I like my tea sweet. I like being well hydrated. I like you. ‘Like’ seems like such a useless word. Like doesn’t even mean anything. It’s nothing compared to the way I feel about you. Ugh.
I was thinking that if I ever wrote my autobiography, it would be called The Magic Position. (I have no idea why I would ever need to write my autobiography – why anyone would want to read it is beyond me. And the chances of a Big Cheese wanting to publish my drivel are slim to non-existent.) A lot of people think that the title of this blog is sexual. It’s not. At least, not in my mind. Obviously I named it after that lovely and strange Patrick Wolf song: there was very little thought involved but I’m glad I chose it. It sort of means something to me now. My ‘magic position’ is usually horizontal – by which I mean sleeping in bed rather than, you know, sleeping with someone. Other magic positions are ones characterised by location – home, college, Limerick, the pub, San Francisco. Mainly the pub. And also Penneys on occasion. Being in someone’s arms or being somewhere else in my head or those times when my life has gone awry and I haven’t a clue where I am. Those are some good positions too. Not always good as such, but certainly always magical. Mostly in an ironic way, of course.
Currently my magic position is 37° 42' 20" north and 122° 27' 38" west (that’s Daly City to the rest of you). More specifically still, I’m positioned on my bed. Thinking. My position on life at the moment? I’m concerned with self-improvement right now. Unfortunately, I’m dealing with some pretty terrible raw materials (i.e. me) so that’s no mean feat. But we’ll see. I’m also thinking about love and feelings and nice things.
And that’s it.
All images from Tumblr.