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I was going about my weekend when a track started playing incessantly in my head. It brought an idea: every man has a soundtrack in his head when he is taking his woman. It may be an obscure, poor quality scratched CD version but somewhere you have your lashing soundtrack; the one that plays when you lash your woman. I also got to thinking about when I didn’t have a soundtrack how it went. It was alright. However every time I had a soundtrack it had been a more than stellar performance. You gotta think about it.

Then there was the scenario when an ex girlfriend of mine sent me a text on one of those Bubbles’ quiz nights. She asked where I was. I said I was at Bubbles. She asked if she could come. I said she could. When she texted me in an hour from that time, I said I was heading home. She asked again if she could join. Somehow in my mind I thought she was asking about whether to come to Bubbles. I said yes. This should have been fine except there was already someone at home waiting for me; which is how it got so dramatic.

The new Bell Lager bottle

The past few days have been a test, a deep inquisistion into the varied tapestry that forms the very fabric on which my existence, not as a man, but as a person, depends. It is always odd to see myself in this state because everytime i get close calls of this nature, there is about to be a diametric shift in my circumstances. So what happened has moved me from where I was to a point where i never thought i would be. I stand now as a man without resolution, a man with elocution