Infinitely Distracting

Sound check, and soon those songs set sail. We've built them as strong as we can, now we must let them go, set them on their way.

This improbable adventure advances.

This is the place to be. What we make of it, is yet to see,

The bungalow falls silent, but soon the silence is interrupted by the soft sound of snoring, of grinding teeth, and of huffing and sighing. The intention was to confirm that the bunks were adequate, … apparently, they are.

Eventually, with persistence, with perseverance, you get to your destination, in theory.

There is nobody here but us on this particular stage, on this particular part of the stage, on this particular island, at this particular time of day. We walk at the side of the road, in search of our accommodation.

We sight land at first light, an island resting on the sea, drawing near.

(Song excerpt "Cloud song", from the album "The Faraway Near" - Peter Loveday)

I have paused and I have taken a breath. I have paused and looked up at the moon, my head no longer filled with the scenes and smells of old London, as it was back then, head, filled now by the scenes painted by these pages I am reading.

A discreet and distant moon is shining down to sprinkle a narrow path of magic on the sea, a path we are about to go down, and that I will tell you about, very soon.

Stimulating lies. That’s what they are, those songs, those stories, those memories, those other lives, lived and not lived, I mean to say, imagined, reconfigured over time to suit one’s particular needs.