chocolately nostalgic goodness

It’s just been one of those days so far. Stared at the screen, pushed some paper. Read a few preliminary reviews of The Watchmen. I finally caved around 11 am and got a chocolate bar. On a whim I chose a Crunchie. I have no idea why.

As I sat at my desk, slowly savouring it, I realized why. The ‘honeycomb’ centre flips a few pages in a mental scrapbook, landing on a candy store in Whitby, North Yorkshire, circa 1998. I bought a bag of cinder toffee there, finding out in a rapid rate that this is the stuff inside a Crunchie bar. Anyway, since I don’t really use my brain all that much at work, I ventured forth on a rambling thought path, which led me past the idea that a retreat into something nostalgic usually signifies that I’m not quite happy, while the exploration and experimentation of new, uncharted waters usually signifies that I’m enjoying life and living it to its full potential.

My original thoughts explored this observation as something relating to society; a “big picture” reflection unsubstantiated by any evidence other than my own conjecture. Yet somehow that seems like my own self just finding some way to alienate my own feelings. Denial even? When I started this post, I had no intention of degenerating into emo ramblings, but alas, here it is. Maybe I’m finding far too much time to be alone and self-reflexive now that we’ve wrapped filming for Red Hood. Maybe I’m just having a bad day. Maybe I will go back to my Google Images of Patrick Wilson to cheer myself up, now that the chocolate is gone.

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