We’re all so very, very tired. Seems like there are very few people you’ll chat to who tell you they’re wide awake, full of beans and rearing to go. Young, old, and everywhere in between, we yawn, or try to hide our yawns. We rub our eyes, throw eye drops into them like they will somehow be reset with a little salt water solution.
“I just need a good night’s sleep,” says someone. “It doesn’t matter how early I go to sleep or for how long, I’m still tired,” says someone else.
We exercise, we change how and what we eat, we suck up health and wellbeing vlogs like they’re a magical elixir. But none of it can turn the fatigue Titanic around. And somewhere up ahead, out there in the darkness, is the iceberg that will end it for us all.
I’ve had enough time to think about the conclusion to the Star Wars saga now. And I’m glad I waited until seeing Knives Out before voicing it. You know what? Rian Johnson knows how to write a great story and make a bloody good movie. Knives Out is brilliant. It does some daring things, and while the trailer makes it look like an Agatha Christie style whodunnit, it kind of ventures more down the Columbo path, where the killer, albeit unintentional, is revealed at the outset. I know there are a lot of “fans” who willed Knives Out to be dogshit on account of what he did with/to The Last Jedi, but as I said, I thought his latest was and is brilliant.
Allegedly, we forget 50% of the dream we have just had within 5 minutes of waking up. But then I guess it all depends on the quality or absurdity of the dream in question. Sometimes a dream can be so vivid, so weird, let’s be honest, that it can stay with you long enough to wonder how the seeds of its fucked-up storyline were sown in your skull.
Shopping centre car parks are a great place to go and write. They used to be better when you were truly severed from the internet out there in the middle of an acre or ten of tarmac. But since the advent of the smartphone and the ability to tether the old laptop to it and its 4Gness, it takes real commitment to not just “check one fact out quickly” and end up watching F1 crashes from the 1960s for two hours.