Return Reality ensures the undeniable, reflective notion.

Football As a 24 year old, my interest in football should be solidly embedded into my mind by now. A #life of following people i'll never meet, in matches that i will never influence, in a league i will won't be part of. That being said, football hasn't always stayed quiet in a dark corner for me. I blame my dad for that. My father was 21 when i was born. An age that i spend days thinking about now, and a time that must have been incredibly different back in 1992. Football was my dad's #life; he watched it, played it, worshipped it, and could quite easily have been a part of professionally. Leicester city was his birthplace, and the team he followed with his heart. I was his first born, the continuation of his legacy, and he wanted me to like it too. In hindsight, its as easy as me saying id like my son to like video games and heavy metal. As far as i remember, i put up with this through my young childhood. I owned Leicester kits, and went to matches and had shirts signed. But i never felt part of the football family, I felt as thought i went purely to satisfy my Dad. Though i have many fond memories of playing football down the local park on a sunday, my main priorities on that day would be talking to my friends. Essentially, football wasnt my thing in the slightest, and it took years after this for him to realise. I would fall asleep to the sound of a crowd on television, as watching the football was the only way i could stay up late. The alternating volume of AM radio still makes me feel travel sick to this day, because it would be on at night in the car. But let me be clear... I never felt as though i was hard done by. I always loved my dad, he was perfect. My hero. And i know now why he did it. Fast forward 12 or so years... Into August 2015. I was drunk, and placed a £10 bet on Leicester to win the Premier League. My dad made an innocent, subconsciously-subserious passing comment, ''Leicester are top at the minute'. I had no idea when the matches began or when they ended, so i thought it was amazing news. The odds were 1500/1 for them. .....

Poetry I often like to write a #poem, But more often I find, I cannot write a decent #poem, As there's nothing on my mind. Just looking at the first verse, Rhyming pattern: ABAB, A word to rhyme with #poem? No. I tried, I got lazy. More difficulties come to me, As I changed the pattern again. I'll return now to normality, So ABAB remains. And then this sentence is pointless.

Perfection Looming tall, 5 foot 10, Hair as red as fire. Confident, but shy at times, She's an incredible smiler. Eyes with sparks - blue or brown, Green or grey or hazel. Someone who can love me too, As others seem unable. For our first date: an arcade, please, With pound coins in my pockets. Air hockey, and House of Dead, Guitar Hero, and beat me at it. Then I ask, 'Pokèmon games, Choose Red or Blue, or yellow?' Then She'll say, 'yellow of course, You get all 3 starters, no?'

Whatdo? I can't lie, I'm feeling rusty. I haven't written in ages My Opuss fingers rather dusty, Itching to write tonnes of pages. Give me motivation, Opuss, And bring back my pen. Make me feel so good, To be writing again.