Want Some MOR from Life, Huh?

I forget when my last post was; needless to say, this blog idea is floundering at roughly the same rate as I predicted it would. It happens, I guess. Need to keep some sort of account of my life (the Life and Times of Nash, The Guy), but it turns out I'm not one for reckless record-keeping. But that's fine, at least this thing might stand the test of time, whatever happens to end up being written in it.

So yeah, music's taken a turn for the middle-of-the-road averageness that plagues the DAB radio stations that housewives and Southern belles listen to (unless I'm crudely mistaken, and they're all beings of diverse and bewitching musical tastes). This could be a problem, given my hopes of becoming a songwriter of note and substance, but then again, more people are likely to listen to me, now. Come for the sugar, stay for the cavities. Lowest common denominator alsways works; fact of life. I tell myself this to make myself feel better.

Also I've started going out a bit more, re-adjusting myself to single living, which has its ups (that loose and malleable feeling of freedom that seems ridiculously appealing, but doesn't really do much in and of itself) and downs (I've realised that I have a lot to say, but no-one to say it to). Everyone's entitled to that one naive relationship that you totally know is gonna last forever 'cause it's so darn perfect, but eventually evolves into an awkward waiting-and-hoping-for-better-times. This was the summer of our discontent, a rainy, cold, vaguely depressing time.

I've also noticed that travelling abroard over summer seems to herald a break-up. Second time this has happened, wouldn't you know it.

I also wonder, if it rained non-stop for weeks, would the Millenium Stadium eventually turn into a huge swimming pool? Because that would be awesome.