Today I am listening to the Lute Suites by Bach played by John Williams (on guitar, not lute – the fraud!). They are very pretty. They are much prettier than Ozzy Osbourne. But you knew that already, didn’t you?
Last night we went to a Chinese restaurant called Ming’s Palace. I think it’s great but I don’t really know much about food. I had a fortune cookie that said, “Your true friends will never let you down.”
We went with our friend Pete and his friend John. John from San Diego trying to immigrate to Whitby. At the moment he’s living in Ireland. Pete and I had an argument about whether Oliver Cromwell’s intentions were truly democratic. What do normal people talk about? I mean really? All my conversations are about sh*t like that, big issues. When I talk to young people, I find myself saying stupid things like “What do you want to do with your life?” When I talk to my family and friends I ask if they’ve read any good books lately or what music they’re listening to. Of course I ask them how they are but so long as they’re okay, I don’t care – I mean, I don’t care if they’re a little tired this weekend because they’ve had a busy week, I care if they’re really struggling and the world’s imploding on them for some reason, but all that well I had a mild headache last Tuesday crap I really have no interest in. As for the weather, well this is the UK. It rains, the sun shines, it sometimes snows. It’s not as if any of my kith and kin are fishing or farming folk who need to be tuned in to that stuff.
I used to think it was because I was ill and spent so much time by myself, but it has been pointed out to me that I was always like this and then I discovered my diaries aged thirteen and realised that yes, I was always up my own posterior about matters of life, death and the universe. I mean, thirteen year olds are supposed to think about clothes and social politics (as in who’s whose friend and who is going out with whom etc, petty stuff). I seemed very concerned about the greater scheme of things, whether or not there was a God, the nature of free will and my purpose on Earth. I did have a very thirteen-year-old self image though and charted the progress of my acne about my face with full colour illustrations. Mind you, I still do that now…
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