I never know what to write about these days.  In a way, there's a lot of personal things I'd like to write, but don't think it's appropriate to share.  There's a lot of factual stuff I'd like to write, but think it's too dry.  There's a lot of faith stuff I'd like to write, but don't think it's really relevant.

I've not really had much time to write anymore poetry.

I've also noticed that when I get busy and stressed, I tend to run out of creativity and the ability to initiate things, and develop escape mechanisms of online poker.  I've interestingly realised I can win money at poker.  I don't think I'm going to go pro though.  I only play with fake money.  Playing for keeps might be different.  But it's nice to know that the option is there, should things get tight.

I guess the only thing that I've really got to write is that whatever the place, whatever the outlet, CREATE, EXPLORE, FAIL, LEARN, REFINE, PONDER, RETHINK, TWEAK, PLAY and just get out there.  We can achieve so much, but rarely harness our own potential, out of fear of failure or passivity.

I went to Worshipcentral on Saturday.  They had emailed me when I got back and asked for feedback.  I found it a really weird concept.  If it's a spiritual event, I'm unlikely to comment on the quality of the tea or how clean the toilets were, but more what I liked, what I didn't.  But if it's a spiritual event, the organisers are probably Spirit-led, so what's my opinion worth?  They've probably prayed a lot more about it.  So why ask?  Maybe I should have commented on the tea...  Except, I didn't drink any from there.  I went to Cafe Fresco, just up the road and had an amazing BLT - I can heartily recommend these guys as making one of the best, biggest and best value sandwiches (2.75 for a massive loaf) and a decent cuppa.  I smiled smugly at people clutching their hunter gatherings from Tesco.

I dunno - I've been in weird places all weekend, including a stairwell, having found a power outlet in Schipol Airport.  I also went to Staines.  That was weird.  Not as weird as some guy who came up to me when I was singing to myself in a station and asked me where I was from.  Holland, I replied.

"Really???  Wicked!  What's the weed like over there?"
"I don't really know.  Sorry, I don't smoke"
"Oh, ok..." and then walked off.

Random...