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Dead silence as I see out of my window in front of me, the wind blowing the scaffolding on a house. The giant skyscrapers that make London so iconic and the light blue sky with a touch of the orange sun coming to move day to night.

The sweet, sleek sound of psychedelic rock playing through my headphones as the voice of Jimi Hendrix singing all along the watchtower flows through my ears. The dim flash of my last working light bulb in my room providing its last stand to keep my room as bright as possible.

The slight noise of my computers fan being as distracting as ever, to the herd of pigeons flying all together; maybe they're flying south for the winter, or more likely some poor buggers drop a chip about 3 km from here and they can smell it like a pack of sharks. The noise of a bloody motorcyclist racing through the streets, going faster than the speed limit, causing noise pollution for everyone.

I correct my "I's" as I read how my teacher is complaining and calling me rude things. Like the grammar Nazi bastard he is. If your reading this, keep in mind I only ever make that mistake on a computer because it never corrects it, where as on paper I do it properly.

And now the scorching heat of my Sauner bedroom gets to me as I open my window for some fresh air and let the cold refreshing air soak in. Unfortunately the down side to this is that I am now able to hear every car that passes by; And considering that this is London a lot of cars pass by regularly.

Well it's 3:08 and I've had a busy day playing TF2 and Counter strike, rather than doing my school work. I guess that's the school fault for letting me stay home all day.

I notice how I've only written 300 words rather than 500, a real shame that is considering i was hoping to go early so I can eat lunch as i haven't actually had lunch for 3 days. My ear's starting to sting as I've been wearing overhead headphones all day. They certainly aren't great headphones as they always hurt if I wear them for too long, which is something headphones shouldn't do. And the microphone on my headphones no longer works as well as it used too.

I just realized that we don't have English tomorrow, my favorite lesson, and unfortunately I've got a double science lesson which i probably wont attend as I think I would be happier and slightly more sane if I didn't attend that. Even though i should be attending lessons because it's important, i can't help but feel that i won't actually learn anything. Because i probably won't.

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It's dark in here, despite it being daylight outside. The little bit of sun that can escape through my bedroom window is creating a strip of light, that has pretty particles of dust floating around it.

I wonder how long until the natural light fades and I'll have to use my lamp. A tall, malfunctioning object that flickers every time the cable doesn't sit right.

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As I lie my book on my desk, I hear construction workers talking as they work on their project in installing a loft upon my neighbours house. Furthermore, I hear the laughter and screaming of the little children in the distance that go to the primary school.

A British Airways plane has just soared through the sky dropping little fuel along the way. Also, I hear a car, the engine eerily roaring as it gets ready for it’s next destination to where it’s driver will take it. Then silence overtakes the atmosphere - as if to say you could hear a pin drop.  In the school, it looks like playtime is over for the little ones and it’s back to learning their times tables before their parents pick them up.

As I continue to write, more cars drive by, however the sound of them isn’t as loud as my belly. It churns and rumbles, waiting for me to eat my Oreo biscuit and then my lunch later on . The relentless wind howls below the despondent gloomy sky. I hear another plane fly by. The sound of the birds chirping now comes into play. It’s tweet-tweet is align with the harmonies of the syncopated wind.

The workers continue working, as the sound of their clacking intensifies. When will the complete silence come back? I peer out my window and see a DPD driver ready to dispatch. In his Ford van, he is imbued with an array of parcels, gifts and boxes. No doubt he’ll be very busy for the rest of the day in time before the festive season of Christmas. He rings the doorbell, awaits for the arrival of the tenant and then scurries off for his next delivery.

As it should, the clock ticks in unison with every second. It’s 15:10, 15 more minutes until I can regain my freedom and relax until my hearts content. I await the little time left and continue to hear the things before me.

I hear a stranger talk on his phone whilst he's walking passively as if there’s no tomorrow. I stop and anticipate the sight of my classmates paragraphs before we are let free of our labour in our , of writing our lengthy essays.

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My headache has started to subside as I dread for my sisters arrival from school as since I have to incur her stupidity every now and then. I'm getting tired as my dim light looked like misty moonlight.
As my mum rests in the livingroom my furtuve nature locks myself in my room.

Obstinately, my determination to finish this writing before the end of this lesson was moderate as my temptation to go to bed was becoming overwhelming. Then I realise the sun has already set and my dismal mood as shown a hint of colour. I sometimes get all maudlin when the day closes as I start to think I havnt been productive enough. I've started to get plagued with dissatisfaction of this piece and drift my eyes temptingly towards my half read book.
Hell screen
Cogwheels
A fool's life
by Ryunoslu akutagawa

My mum's mellow and tranquil music, which humbly invited itself into my room, has stayed.
I do like to venture and use big words even though there is a undoubtful chance I will get told of by sir.

I have intermittently stopped writing and try to concentrate on the mellow jazz music which lacks mass.
I start to get the premonition that tomorrow will as boring as today and sigh with misery.
But this prediciment stituation began to ease.

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The buzzing of the washing machine continues on and on, never stopping as if it’s trying to give me a headache. As one noise stops another starts, like an endless cycle of torture for my ears.

Two trains pass by the flats almost simultaneously. One screeches to a slow stop while the other rapidly speeds up rolling away from the old station.

It’s still outside. No wind pushing the trees, and only a few faint clouds in the distance. Small raindrops from this morning lay lifelessly on the railing. The washer is buzzing again. A nostalgic sound of a steam train going through the tunnel echoes through our paper thin walls for a good couple of minutes.

Our doorbell makes a head splitting noise only to bring me out of my faint train of thought.

Earlier I was rewatching some post apocalyptic gameplay. In a weird way I’ve always wanted the world to become overrun with infected people trying to kill me. At the moment everything revolves around celebrities, who’s rich and who’s not rich. To become a celebrity you don’t even need to have talent or do anything worthwhile. You’ll become famous for being hated and then the world will revolve around you. It’s ironic that we do have an outbreak happening at the moment.

Another train speeds by, heading towards Clapham Jc. This time the ground begins to judder. I can’t see the trains but I’ve lived next to trains long enough to call myself an expert. I now know the differences between steam trains, south eastern trains and cargo trains. An amazing, I know.

My mum keeps on walking around restlessly not knowing what to do. When she’s finished her work for the day it is like a need for her to walk around making faces at me or just starting a conversation while I’m trying to do my 500 isolation words.

The washer is still humming and the floorboards are creaking. There has and will always be a problem in my flat. The other day the boiler stopped working so we had no heating of hot water and for the past 3 months the oven has stopped working.

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A train just passed by the back of my house. The sun is already setting. I'm typing and eating peanuts and hoping this will go somewhere.

The rest of the people on the padlet seem like they're struggling to start. All except for Jamie, who I suspect is going to write about an international cricket match or something.

I stop typing for a second. I can hear birds in the garden. A plane overhead. The dull rumble of London traffic.  The sky is the colour of the padlet background - pandemic purple; slightly apocalyptic.

I look up and read some of George's work and notice he hasn't capitalised his 'I's. Classic internet child - lazy with the basics. I guess it's not really his fault; he's a product of his environment.

It's also interesting to note that Ruby seems to live by a train station. To be fair, it's hard not to in London. The place is just a zig-zagging nest of tracks... And Joshua seems to live near a building site--I wonder if he lives in central London, or if there are just renovations going on next door? Weirdly, I sort of feel the answer is his business and his business alone, and for me to ask would be an invasion of his privacy. So I'll say nothing.

The light is dying fast and the birds are really going to town. They must be crepuscular (which is a needlessly fancy way of saying they come out at dawn and dusk). It's the kind of word you want to drop into a pretentious poem. Unfortunately, it doesn't have a lot of utility -- it's hard to bend crepuscular into new contexts:

Like crepuscular drunks they screams woozy syntax in the twilight.

I just looked up at some of Kulala's work. I don't thinking she's used the right form of the word 'obstinate'. Maybe she want's obstinately?

Someone seems to have rung the doorbell at Ruby's place. Amazon package? Christmas present? Two Mormons on bicycles?

I've noticed that the pandemic has really given delivery drivers a licence to just ring the door bell, dump the package and piss off. Not that I imagine their job is particularly pleasant--driving from house to house and scanning crappy boxes and ringing the doorbells of bathroom-wearing dickheads so they can sign for limited edition Wu-Tang socks.... On the other hand, driving around all day and listening to whatever you want on the radio (or whatever) might be kind of soothing--especially if your house is full of annoying responsibilities (like your family).  So maybe I shouldn't be so quick to judge.

I didn't make up the Wu-Tang Clan socks thing. I actually own a pair, purchased online. Unfortunately they didn't have my size in stock at the time, so I ordered a size smaller thinking they'd stretch -- and they do -- but it always feels slightly uncomfortable, like my feet are being strangled, so I never wear them and they just sit in my draw taking up space. You can't throw away Wu-Tang socks, even if they don't fit.

I feel this sock story may have profound human significance--that there's a wider truth that can be gleaned from it. No doubt I'll wake at 4 a.m. and its resonance will become clear.

I notice George has scanned though my work and is commenting on it. Good man.

It seems Kulala's mum is playing Zen music in the background of their house. I can't believe that works as a form of motivation for writing. The act of typing (for me anyway) has an aggressive quality to it that's a lot more like caffeine and jackhammers than Zen gardens, though that might be to do with the sort of person I am.

Joshua seems to be commenting on delivery drivers as well now. Tis the season. I feel he's not letting himself digress into a natural internal monologue enough. Part of the key to this task is to let ideas and topics flow from the things you see. I do like the fact he's used the word 'imbued' though. Sophisticated vocabulary. Very formal. That's language wearing a bowtie and heading to cocktail party. That's vocabulary that knows about opera.

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What’s happening? I wish someone would tell me because right now nothing is happening! I’m stuck inside my house trying to complete the task meanwhile, my 2-year-old sister is running round and banging on my door like a swat team entering the house of a criminal holding someone hostage at gun point and I'm trying to drown it out with ‘Bary Bonds’ by Kanye West featuring lil Wayne (amazing song by the way sir you should listen to it). Everyone else seems like they’re handling this with ease and sir is just going crazy and writing 1,000 words consecutively which is dumbfounding me still even though we are done with the lesson now.

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I've been anticipating this day for a 11 months now. The last time Australia played in a test match was in Sydney against the Kiwis. We won 3 to nothing.  This was straight off of a incredible win in a 2 test series against Pakistan. The first game at the Gabba and the second in my home town Adelaide in the Adelaide Oval. David Warner, who had been under scrutiny from press and selectors for a good amount of time, posted a history making series. He made the second highest individual score in the history of Australian cricket of 335 not out. he scored over 700 runs in his 3 innings. Marnus Labuschagne, a new favourite of mine, is a youngster who scored 1000 runs in that summer, posting 4 centuries in the 5 test matches he played in, 2 against the Pakistanis and 2 against the Kiwis. We were outstanding and crowned the worlds number ones.

11 months later, the Aussies take on the Indian's who seem very strong so my confidence isn't 100% there. There is some hope however as I do understand that India's captain is going home after the first test in Adelaide due to the birth of his first child so he returns to India in 4 days time however all is not settled. Cheteshwar Pujara, the player of the series in 2018 (the last time these 2 sides met), was the player of the series. he scored 4 centuries, faced over 1250 balls total and batted for a total time period of 31 hours. He's definitely one to watch out for. He's so skilful, so impressive and has the patience and mental strength to wear down the bowlers.

Our side this time round will be much stronger. In 2018 Australian cricket was on a period of recovery as a result of a ball tampering scandal that shocked the world. Our 2 best players received 18 month bans and the mental affect it had on the team was extraordinary. We lost a 4 game series 2-1 (the last game being a draw) however I have full faith in the Aussies to beat this Indian team, especially looking at the form we are on and the summer we had last year. I have started watching it but my amusement was cut short by school work. Mitchell Starc and Josh Hazlewood have bowled over 1 and 2. Starc took a wicket in the first and Hazlewood kept a maiden. Quite literally the perfect start. In the build-up to the first test, there was plenty of commotion based on who will open the batting for Australia as a result of Will Pukovski, a young Australian prodigy, taking a blow to the head in a warm up match, and David Warner suffering a groin injury. These were 2 huge blows for the Aussies and I'm nervous but excited to see how the partnership between Joe Burns, who's in shocking form at the minute, and Mathew Wade, a lower order batsman, will pan out. Alongside Pukovski, Cameron Green is another youngster who could seriously do some damage to this Indian side and I'm ecstatic to see how he plays. Finally, I would love to see Travis Head post a few big scores this series. He's cored only 2 centuries in his 2 and a half year career but he's from Adelaide and he's an idol of mine who i seriously look up to.