Anyone here suffer from claustrophobia?

[Sysman]

Perhaps. I have never never felt claustrophobic in a lift. If it got jammed I'd use the little trapdoor in the roof of the lift, 'Man From Uncle' style - oh wait - lifts don't actually have those little trapdoors in the roof in real life...

I've been stuck in a couple of lifts and didn't feel claustrophobic either time. Ikea on a hot stuffy day when I couldn't find my way out was a different matter.

[Sysman]

Are lift doors hard to prise apart?

It depends on the lift. With the smallish one in my last apartment I did manage. It wasn't easy and I was doing regular weight training then.

[centurian]

Or the work of the devil.

Shouldn't he have been weightless if the lift is free falling, or at least experiencing reduced gravity

After all, what we feel as gravity is merely the ground/chair/bed/sofa pushing back against us. The space station is constantly falling towards the Earth - just constantly missing because of lateral motion.

Cut - Time for a geek check

[Sysman]

I've always been like this. I grew up in the country and used to use hay bales to make large dens with lots of little passages and switchbacks. Even as a child, I had to argue with my parents to get completely opaque curtains for my bedroom, because I detested the merest hint of light.

I find the dark comforting in a deeply primal way.

I know what you mean there, but conversely I like to wake up with the sun coming into the room.

The next best thing is complete silence. Utter silence. It's great and I can think better when there is little to no noise around me.

I'm close to a town centre so complete silence is rare, but that's what the surrounding hills are for.

[minestrone]

I went down some old war tunnels in Vietnam, the Gf was behind me with the camera and we have about 10 pictures of my fat arse now.

[Board Game Geek]

Sysman wrote : I know what you mean there, but conversely I like to wake up with the sun coming into the room.

/Poetry Alert

*****
Morning Comes
*****


Morning comes,

Her sweet fingers of light caressing my cheeks as I lay asleep,
Dreaming of my Love.

And then I stir,
Bleary-eyed from my dream of Heaven,
And my world comes crashing down me,
As her soft, warm gentle fingers are but figments of my mind.

***

Morning comes,

This time I wake to greet her touch of light upon my soul.

And rest we both contented there,
Heaven found at last.

****

/End of Poetry Alert

This poem was written some 22 years ago, one morning when I woke from a vivid, beautiful dream.

I imagined that my long-distance girlfriend who I only saw once a year was cuddled up in my arms and gently caressing my cheeks as the morning arose.

When I woke up, I discovered that it was just a dream.

The feeling of her fingers upon my face was the sun’s rays, streaming in though a gap I had forgotten to close in the curtains. You can imagine I felt sad and somewhat down heartened.

I wrote the poem, and then paused whilst I reflected that one day, we would be together permanently, and that this was just a situation I had to endure.

The second half of the poem came to me in a revelation that although today may be difficult and lonely, there was hope sometime in the future, and that my reward for enduring would not be just be a caress upon the cheek, but something much deeper and more fulfilling.

Sadly, she never got to read the poem, as we parted some months after.

Whilst she was my first love…she was not my best love, as my 19-year relationship with my wife now testifies.

I dedicate this poem to my first love, wherever she may be, for she taught me to recognise true love later in my life.

[nomadd]

/Poetry Alert
*****
Morning Comes
*****

If there's one thing I admire in a man... It's the ability to stay on topic.

Nomadd