Quiescents Forced to Tamper,

Time and temperature are the only weapons. I chose time but, by the end, I had lost all sense of it. For three weeks, I was committed to another period of intensive work, maximising the work carried out in the limited time allowed with the apparatus. I was working alongside my successor but after a while, cabin fever set in. I think I’d have become agitated alongside anyone.

I’m pretty good at filtering out noise and voices but it was music that caused the greatest discomfort. As I tended to arrive first or be present most, I’d sometimes choose to put some music on. If my colleague came in, sometimes I’d pause the music in order to talk to him or perhaps I’d pause it if I thought we should concentrate, but whenever I did so, he took this as a prompt to slap on his radio station of choice. In three weeks, I heard 5 songs I approved of (Grandaddy, Badly Drawn Boy, two Talking Heads numbers and one which the DJ failed to inform me off). I have reached my quota of Stereophonics for this century and I don't think Florence and the Machine should be getting off lightly either - I preferred Bertha. I didn’t comment as tensions were already high. Results weren’t forthcoming and we were already two people with opposing styles. In a time of success and joy, I am on guard. In a time of crisis, I remain positive. That was all I had, if I was to let his sigh grind such hope and optimism, there’d be nothing. I chose time, he chose temperature. In the end, we arrived at some minor successes but they were perhaps half of what we might have achieved as individuals.

This incarceration has caused me to lose all sense of time and in a way, I am still decompressing. I make decisions on a day-by-day basis.

The Gemenids meteor shower reminded me of how things are. I just seem to value different things from those around me.

The song that seems to resonate at the minute is A Dance to Half Death by The Second Hand Marching Band. The choir end with a haunting verse

I watch you smile at the camera,
Your lips, your eyes, your sweet smile,
and all the while, and all the while,
I am bound to forget you.

I watch you walk down the corridor,
Your finger trails along the wall,
and all I can think of is why
I won’t forget you

The paradox is something which hooks my attention. If I have misheard the lyrics (it’s ‘will or won’t in the last line), I prefer the paradox and I’m stuck on it. It’s a catastrophe yet to happen.