Tuesday 23 November 1999

Cutscious gunsponence tes cower prory.

meta-date: Tue Nov 23 23:08:00 1999

Second night of the full moon - or is it the third? Cut up. Put up or shut up. Displays shafted again. Sideways seat. Order of preference - sideways, forwards, backwards. Sick. Sleep. Equipped. Stink. Not wrong. Somehow. Insulin. Penicillin. Tuft. Yellow. London skyline. Kinda beautiful. Some people never see tower bridge or big ben in person. I see those and more every day. Ungrateful wanker. I should be more appreciative of my surroundings. I won't be though. In my own way. Freak. Carried away. Scare. Score. Scar. Floor. Edging away. Building Lego walls around me. Mechano is very cool. As are stickle bricks. Retro. Wish I was at primary school again. Wasn't any easier - just less responsibilities. I still remember dropping my pencil while at junior school - when I bent down to pick it up my cheek pressed up against Anna Besch's arm - I still remember how soft and warm her skin was. 15+ years ago. Good memory. I am me. Nothing more to say on that subject though. My blocks are mine - if I wanted you to play with them I would tell you. Rules to live by. From an article I read the other day - full of truisms. Like - I will never remember important dates - I can barely remember my own birthday. If I ever forget an important date it's your fault for not reminding me. Ned's. Kill. Father's favourite chair. Sore eyes. Dizziness ensues. Crazy. Splendid. Marvellous. Wonderful. Stretched bladder. Need to make the treck to find relief. Aah. Crudity. Not of the salt and pepper variety. Vinegar. Food. Should have bought something at London Bridge. After beer munchies ensue. Nearly to my home town. Half hour from bed. Or an hour if I check my email first. Becoming. Ulcer on my lip. I wonder if we have any Bonjela. Disembarkation. If such a word exists.