The smiles of young men.

I just found a half empty mug of not-exactly-hot chocolate under my bed. It stopped me in my tracks for a while, simply because i cannot remember the last time i had one of those (hot chocolates, not bed. I've always had a bed except for that one time with the post it note and the kitchen floor).
Then it hit me, the day i tried a healthy alternative to Cadbury creme eggs, nearly three weeks ago. Now you might ask, what kind of pig is this girl? Leaving half empty mugs of non preservable liquid in her room for three weeks without even noticing.
Well, first of all, thank you for asking, and secondly i would just like to say that i am a very creative pig. I'd left one of my oil paintings to dry on top of the mug, and the mug itself was standing on a discarded piece of paper describing the polite Japanese word 'desu' in excruciating detail.

So what if i sometimes have new, exciting and slightly green lifeforms hibernating, waiting for people to accept the inexorable inevitability of evolution, in my bedroom? I still change my socks every day, sometimes i actually change them several times a day, but that's more down to the incontinent dog i live with then extreme hygiene.

Anyhow, i was going to talk about yesterday. Yesterday was Thursday, party night here in the village. In other words, the pub was cramped, we were nearly fifteen people in there altogether! I didn't even know that many people existed in Bulford, lately i have suspected the British Army for building empty houses, hiring a tiny, slightly intelligence challenged theater troupe to play the inhabitants, and then just left them here to breed for a few generations. All this to keep curious, enlightened people away so that the army could continue doing all their secret experiments without being asked annoyingly relevant questions about the abnormal feeling of eerie nothingness that seems to surround this area.

Back to my big night out, i spotted through the coaster filled air (you'd have to be there to understand what i mean) a face. It belonged to a boy and was somehow different from all the other faces. So i naturally assumed that this was the one i had been waiting for all along, this was the person to come and whisk me away from dead end 'suburbia' and show me the world from a different angle.
I was only half wrong. He was different then the others, he was south African and quite well traveled. This is always a good thing, but i shouldn't have gotten my hopes up to early.

'What are you reading?' he said and pointed at the book i had lying on the table in front of me.
'Orwell, Down and out in Paris and London.' He gave me a blank stare before he got a dead proud look on his face.
'I never read, I've only ever read one book in my life.' And that's where the fairytale ended on my part (i blame Disney for my romantic nature). I must admit i am getting quite used to this sentence, an alarmingly big part of the population use it regularly around me. I put them into two categories.

1. The people who only read the one, obligatory book you had to read in school.

2. The people who add, after the dreaded statement of non literate preferences, the words: 'And that is the Holy book, the bible, the only book worth reading etc'. It makes my soul itch.

But there is little one can do about such things, people have to make their own choices.

Which brings me back to my mug of moldy not-hot-chocolate, because it wasn't moldy, not green at all! A bit rough around the edges maybe (looked a little rough, i didn't taste it, i am not THAT curious), but no green stuff.

It's strange how some things just rot and decay when you leave it alone (pets, fruit, babies) whilst other things seem to develop a independent and unique lifestyle without any help or encouragement at all (pets, parents, the occasional wet towel).

It's so random how things and people end up, i find uniqueness very fascinating and quite terrifying at times.

Oh, and i can now play Yann Tiersens 'song title i cannot remember or even find online' on my Melodica. It's nice, i like it!