Number 1 Bus

The town I used to live in is filled with boarded up shops and smells of weed. Well, the bus station smells of weed. Well, the bus station at 10pm filled with congregations of tracksuited teenagers smells of weed. The thing about the derelict shops requires no further description.

As I tap this out on a virtual keyboard embedded into a handheld flatscreen, it’s late and I’m being jolted around by the seatbeltless free-reign of the Wirral’s roads, on the Liverpool-bound Number 1 bus. That’s not its ranking, mind – I wouldn’t call it the “Number 1 bus I’ve ever been on” – that’s simply the route number. I fear this post won’t really go anywhere (unlike this bus, which will hopefully get me home in the coming minutes), since it’s late on yesterday night and I still haven’t written a weekly bit of guff for this thing yet.

Oh yeah, spoiler alert, I don’t write all of this and post it at exactly lunchtime every Wednesday. I generally do the hard graft part of a Monday or Tuesday evening from the comfort of my own home, like now. Oh yeah, insider knowledge alert, I’m back in the house now and have been since “Wednesday”.

With little else to continue motivating me, this thing has to come to an abrupt close. This is bizarre, considering my initial point of writing motivation came from the sweet rotten cabbage smell of second-hand haze. Shouldn’t my tiredness and lethargy levels have gone up then rather than now? A question that will be submitted to the ages and forgotten about just as soon as it’s been posed.

I have no idea what I’m even typing anymore, because, like, green banana dirt bag and a kitchen made of entropy. What? Like, actually what? I don’t know. I’ll try harder next time. Probably.

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Back to older stuff now. Well, “older” in the sense that it’s not particularly something from 2016. For many albums of 2015, though, I find myself consistently picking up on them only just now. One such happens to be Lianne La Havas’ Blood, which I really only found out about thanks to this song.

My creative senses failed before I even got on the bus, so you’ll forgive the lack of explanation or decent second paragraph. Just click the bloody thing.

Lianne La Havas – Grow