Lost!

The Golden Touch.
Reward (small)

Couldn't be arsed to get a sharp image for this desperation blip.
Couldn't even be arsed to wait till 11.30pm to post a desperation blip (that's how optimistic I feel today).
There may be some some fantastic sunset light at just the right angle in the chestnut trees on my way to the station this evening. There may. I couldn't be arsed.
There may be some colourful characters sitting next to me on the DART back home tonight. There may. I just couldn't give a flying monkey.
All I want to do is pack the camera away for the day and switch off my eyes.
To see things in a relaxingly functional way (i.e. not bang into people/things, not walk into dog shit). Rather than look into the seeing, search the vision, excite the ocular in search of some blipability.

I'll see youze tomorrow.

If the Raheny lids accept to open.


PS: this is my blurry hand in today's blip. Not Mrs Raheny's palm, sweaty with lust, imprinted in the back window of the Volvo estate, in a scene reminiscent of the celebrity coupling episode in Titanic.

For some strange reason, she was not in that sort of mood on this sunny Monday morning, between getting the kids dressed and cleaning the rice crispies that Mimi had spilled into the keyboard of the computer. Women are strange. Spouses stranger still. Where has all the passion gone, I ask!