In Security Light

I'm sitting outside a house in Newcastle. A house which used to be a bowling club. I have many friends here, but none of them are home. So I sit out the front, and steal their wireless internet. When the security light turns off, I wave my left hand wildly until I can see again. The people who are home, they walk by now and then, casting wary glances in my direction. They see an over-dressed stranger sitting out the front of their house, in a plastic chair, typing into a miniature laptop, his left arm a windscreen wiper, set to intermittent. They do not seem too phased by this sight. It is a tribute to the absurdity of this house that they don't seem to mind at all.

I'm not sure how to approach this blog, should I just talk about things that have happened to me recently, or should I make up stories, since the whole reason I started a blog was so that I could practice creative writing? So far, I have zero readers, so it probably doesn't matter much. Then again, I haven't really told anyone that I have a blog yet. If you read this, you can tell me what you think.

I write a sentence, and then delete it. Write another one, and delete it.  I didn't delete these last two sentences, but it was a struggle.

My friend has recently started a blog about his experiences as a sex educator in Uganda. As I look inwards, wearily trawling for something worth writing about, I cannot help but think about his blog.

Earlier today, as I was driving, I thought of all kinds of things I wanted to write down, talk about, now when I try and recall them, my attention drifts back to my eyelids. They seem to have put on weight. They slip gradually down, as would a loose pair of pants. Perhaps my eyelids have in fact grown slimmer.

This is my first real blog, if you don't count the other one where I transcribed stuff that was in my diary, because I was bored on an aeroplane. So I'm happy to leave it there, a warm-up blog.