Sticky Fingers
Hmm. It is late, I am tired, and I have to get up early tomorrow to dance. None of these are especially conducive to a coherent post, but I will try; the only thing which may suffer is paragraph structure.
Work is ok. I'm not doing a whole lot at the moment, which I suppose is owed me after the hideous hours I normally put in. Finally got enough time to learn things, which is good. Salsa is going well; I got roped into Cuppers tomorrow so have been frantically trying to get some practice in (hence the early rise). Haven't been sleeping much this week, partially as fallout from the weekend trip to see Mr Soft. He's not really called that by anyone btw, I've just been listening to too much Steve Harley today.
So I'm feeling kind of lucid at the moment, ever since I totally tripped out over Naked Lunch on Monday. Films seem to be having more and more of a psychological effect on me recently; I'm not sure if that's due to the type of film I'm watching, or merely a symptom of my gradual slide into genuine insanity. Either way, it's prompted me to start thinking about writing again (I opened an empty notebook and wrote the words 'new ideas', which is more than I've done for about 4 years) and I can start to take notes at least. The only problem seems to be that nearly everything I've read lately has been in a similar style (Judge for yourself: Hocus Pocus and Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut, Dave Gorman's Googlewhack! Adventure, Catcher in the Rye, and just starting On the Road) and what I really need is a well-rounded selection of writing styles. feh.
The music collection continues to expand at a rapid pace; recent additions include various things by Nick Cave, Frank Zappa, Kraftwerk, Bowie, Franz Ferdinand, Greenday and Willie Mason, plus a fucktonne of MP3s given to me by someone at work. I haven't worked through them but the first thing I played seemed to be a jazz electronica version of 'The One I Love', so I'm not necessarily holding out great hopes.
Ok that's it, I'm falling asleep so I'm gone.
Work is ok. I'm not doing a whole lot at the moment, which I suppose is owed me after the hideous hours I normally put in. Finally got enough time to learn things, which is good. Salsa is going well; I got roped into Cuppers tomorrow so have been frantically trying to get some practice in (hence the early rise). Haven't been sleeping much this week, partially as fallout from the weekend trip to see Mr Soft. He's not really called that by anyone btw, I've just been listening to too much Steve Harley today.
So I'm feeling kind of lucid at the moment, ever since I totally tripped out over Naked Lunch on Monday. Films seem to be having more and more of a psychological effect on me recently; I'm not sure if that's due to the type of film I'm watching, or merely a symptom of my gradual slide into genuine insanity. Either way, it's prompted me to start thinking about writing again (I opened an empty notebook and wrote the words 'new ideas', which is more than I've done for about 4 years) and I can start to take notes at least. The only problem seems to be that nearly everything I've read lately has been in a similar style (Judge for yourself: Hocus Pocus and Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut, Dave Gorman's Googlewhack! Adventure, Catcher in the Rye, and just starting On the Road) and what I really need is a well-rounded selection of writing styles. feh.
The music collection continues to expand at a rapid pace; recent additions include various things by Nick Cave, Frank Zappa, Kraftwerk, Bowie, Franz Ferdinand, Greenday and Willie Mason, plus a fucktonne of MP3s given to me by someone at work. I haven't worked through them but the first thing I played seemed to be a jazz electronica version of 'The One I Love', so I'm not necessarily holding out great hopes.
Ok that's it, I'm falling asleep so I'm gone.