I may as well have been born with a symbiotic joystick or controller attached to my body, preferably my hand. The feeling of holding and using a controller, of any kind, in my hands is as natural and involuntary to me as using my lungs to breathe. It is an extension of myself. 

My life has always been about constants. My hobbies ever since I was just a child have always been the same. Football, books and of course videogames. 

There have been many guest star activities such as tennis, mountain biking, watching hockey, comic books, gym and most recently running. But I had and have no illusions as to the future of most of these. They will be on and off whenever I am in the mood or even give them up entirely never to return to them again.

Evening plan.

Lie on couch with a cup of traditional afternoon tea (blimey), with my DS and play Pic Pic.

21:25 - Just placed the hot cup of tea on a white mat from Mykonos.
21:26 - Inserted Demon Days by Gorillaz into the cd player. Volume at -60db.
21:31 - I switch on the DS and choose the Drawing puzzles. Previously left off at drawing puzzle no. 19 (out of a total of 400).  Kids for Guns (track 3) now playing.

Firstly, let me take a few lines to welcome myself back.

That's back from the dead, back to living in Cyprus, back to work, back to jogging, back to being around friends, back to going out, back to studying, back to excessive drinking (although that never really stopped). 

It has been an insane couple of months for me as I have, after a ten year wait, returned back to suckle on the sweet teat of the Motherland once more.

Sadly however, since boarding Cyprus Airways Flight CY332 at Heathrow's Terminal One, on that memorable day of June 26th 2008, it seems that apart from leaving England behind I also abandoned my alter ego, my split personally and my closest friend during those outcast years in London. I am referring to MIOU (my gamertag and online persona). As the one thing that I have not managed to get back into is, gaming. 

After a couple (knee and ankle) injuries in 5-a-side football games i stayed on the sidelines not just of football but of any physical exercise whatsoever. I made some hopeless attempts to bring myself back to the league of fit men but they all proved futile. I resigned myself in a life of sleep, work, and videogaming with lots of snacks and drinks in between these "activities". The Dark Ages of my physique and fitness. 2 years in total.

That was until late August when i decided that enough was enough. Reaching the 1st floor breathless and not fitting into my clothes were not the decisive factors. No. It was stress. Or rather the need to relieve stress and the best medicine is exercise. A return to the futsal pitches of Nicosia was tempting as i love football but the high risk of injury and my breaking the barrier of 30 years old put me off. Cycling i dismissed due to fears of reviving knee problems. Swimming was a no go as i needed something that i could on weekdays unless i was willing to pay a ridiculous amount of money to hotels or gyms.

To vest or not to vest?