I wanted to go to a fancy dress party, wearning those fancy contact lenses with a metallic finish. They look spooky. It would have been great.

But, I was struck by a lack of fiscal availability when I called into the shop to purchase the said visual adornments. Instead, I was forced to improvise. A couple of minutes later and I had some upholstory tacks from the DIY shop. It was a simple job to push the hardened steel through the retina and into each of my eyes, leaving only the domes of the brass effect caps showing. It was so funny. I looked like a robot. Apparently.

Besides, some things reflect a genuine optimistic viewpoint. Such as the post from 1 March. And. Er. Probably some others.

There was a carbon print, last week, of Uma Thurman aged as a student, walking down the stairs in the Law Department. I would have fallen in lust, but there seemed little point even for that.

Friday 19 March

3.45 am

just finished work

fu(the remainder of this has been edited)

You have all the answers, here, if only you would ask the question.

Back in the Union, the next day, and I am alone. Walking to the society room, where I have people to see, an event to organise, and three days left as a member of the guiding committee. It seems like it probably won’t make much difference. Perhaps I should just go straight to the bar. In first year, Woody had asked, when he, I and someone else long since forgotten from the flats had collided after a lecture, if anyone wanted to go for a pint. I had wanted to. After noon and its not rude. He liked that attitude, and we’d remained best friends until evening.

Can’t do it. Even though whatever happens in the next few minutes is bound to succeed in nothing other than my annoyance, I still decide that I should go through with it.

Open the door.

The room that we’ve been given is, or was, bare brick, coated in a high gloss varnish that must have seemed a good idea to someone, somewhere, one time, and without windows or hope. We’ve covered it with posters of the various shows, but really, this is not a room that you would want to spend much time inside.

Having spent two years on the committee, at times even thinking I was doing some good, I live in this room.

What surprised me, going through the words on the blog, was the amount of writing. Obviously nothing is finished. And I think most is in extreme need of rewrite. But its there. And before 2003 and the rediscovery of the blog, that I’d previously forgotten about whilst finishing my dissertation, I wasn’t writing anything any more.

Re Alcohol by Veitch (2003)

I was inspired by the following (not exactly this form of words, I was sent something similar several years ago, but I can’t locate it immediately).

A herd of bisons moves only so fast as the slowest animal in it. When predators attack the herd they capture and kill the slowest bison at the end of the herd. Such natural selection is only good for the herd because it keeps the animals in good health, and the herd also becomes faster. A similar process takes place in the human brain. The brain can function only as fast as its slowest cell. As we all know, an excess of liquor destroys brain cells, yet due to the above-described natural selection alcohol destroys the slowest and the weakest cells first. Regular beer drinking therefore destroys slow brain cells and makes the brain faster and more efficient.

Voice your opinion!

Poetry from 2003 is now copied to the appropriate link from the poetry menu. Any thoughts on whether I should delete the original blogs?