This is a distress call from the centre of the United Kingdom.

I think I’ve been sucked up from the year 2007 and spat out in a computer generated 1990s with a Ballardian twist.

I seem to remember something after 2007, but every time I try to remember it it becomes less and less there.

I considered dementia. But it can’t be that, because I’m not in a future I can’t recognise, I’m in a more fucked CGI montage of the past.

Visions of the past occupy the bodies of the present like 20th century pop stars have become the Invasion of the Body snatchers.

But I’m too stand out. Don’t have the tools to photoshop myself into the present.

..I still think I’m 22, with 5 pint smiles at girls who look like people I knew, but if they’d been in a Daft Punk video. ..Then their boyfriends appear, as alt-rock/bearded, GI muscle men hybrids. Fucking strange, fucking intimidating and strange. I realise I’m not from here. I’m a stranger.

From one angle, 20000 speciality ales eclipse the piss taste of Carling and Fosters, from the other homelessness from a Hollywood disaster film: IGNORED. Cool kids, and gym going kids, stuck in endless commuter deadlocks, their heads to I phones. IGNORED….AND what happened to Tom and his noveltyesque MySpace Project?

I’M LOST…. and clueless