I cross the threshold into a colourless cell every morning. 
Every morning my colleagues and I hunch over our desks and stare wearily ahead like stationary lemmings.
Every morning I disentangle electric wires, telephone cables, and the everyday furniture of office life in a bid to conscientiously undertake my menial duties.
Every morning I interact through Excel, Outlook, and the Intranet -  the insufferable language of Microsoft which, quite frankly, is almost an alien tongue to me.
Every morning the same unflattering strip lighting, the same mass-produced tea bags, the same platitudinous greetings.
Jaundice.


What motivations, if any, do I have for articulating this self-indulgent drivel?


Let me say emphatically that I do not think that there is anything remotely unique or extraordinary about the above condition.  It does not warrant either sympathy or admiration.


As tedious as it sounds, I write only to develop a transparent and collective dialogue. 


Recently, Kites recorded a demo that we have entitled, ‘The Black Dog’.


It concerns monotony; it basks in the humdrum of everyday existence; it tries to conjure up that stale sense of ennui that infects so many. Conversely, it also acknowledges how petulant, how feeble, such sentiments can be.

“A faceless guest approached me 

And as he shook me by the hand 

I looked at him blankly, thought, ‘who’s this man?’ 

He claimed we’d met before. 

I said, ‘I’m sorry, this amnesia is my great flaw'.” 

My friends continually berate me for what could be perceived as indifference or apathy in others. I lose count of the number of times I have warmly introduced myself to someone only to find out latterly – and to my detriment – that I have frolicked with them on numerous occasions. In the great lexicon of social faux pas, this surely counts among the most grotesque? The truth is, I am often lost in my own thoughts which I realise smacks of solipsism.

Sometimes I should undoubtedly pay more attention to new faces. Sometimes I should acknowledge the possibility of a burgeoning friendship.

But sometimes – only sometimes – I am left singularly unimpressed be the ‘would-be’ companion who is shaking my hand with a grip that would make Robocop quail.

It is to this phenomenon that the lyrical fragment displayed above refers.

Oh please do not all rush to condemn me! Let he who is sinless cast the first stone! Everyone is guilty of making unconsidered judgements.

This song is yet to be finished. When it is complete it will be a feast for the senses. Like the writer, the song is flawed but infectious. I can only hope that you will agree.

Matthew