I have seen some horrible, horrible things. Scenes of unmitigated sound and fury, blood sacs hanging from warehouse ceilings, insectoidal chrome jabs of light which pierce the eyes and stab at the bones, pulsating industrial waves of pure noise which rob you of hope, other things... mutated thoughts with pincer-claws of backwards logic, the weird halls of the netherbitch, Paris in the spring. I spoke to the beasts in the wind and contacted the thing behind the sun. I walked into the desert and was judged.

Also I went a lot to the shops and bought bagels with parma ham and black pepper.

It was a time of joy and of madness and of stretching and settling.

I watched Sherlock Holmes by the BBC and I loved it.

I listened to Francisco The Man and I loved it.

I formed bands and lost lives and broke hearts and found friends and I loved it.

The days were shorter then and tho we tried to hold on to dear things and precious things in the end we found only emptiness dwelling in the past. We changed or we died and we did both, we moved through strange places and strange people flickered around us. They asked me if I was rushing and I told them no I am English. It didn't hit and anyway I was bored and went back to the bar.

Later on I became aware of the shapes the light makes when it hits my eyes and I was glad because I had seen the sunlight and the love and the warm glow from the lenses of my sunglasses made it seem like summer.

It writes and gets hungry so it posts and goes to the fridge.