There’s someone inside of me And I can feel all their pain The lengths I will go to to Hide this Are long. Blad. Mostly feeling wired but disconnected. Bit like my server, which seems to have forgotten how Samba works. Grr. Decided not to go for the KHRP redesign pitch as I don’t have the time to do it all properly any more. Work is hard but interesting. I wish CSS2 worked a bit better on IE though Company meeting with beer and (40!) Pizza Express pizza. No American Hot though so had to make do with American. Central line fucked. Yay. Got a headache trying to work out which crackhead had developed the WAP stuff. Argh. Can’t seem to find *any* of the pages that relate to it in the system. Fun! I’ve not done WAP in *sooo* long... Left work and wandered to Retro to see people. Decided it was a bad move and so hung about waiting for Warren to turn up whilst avoiding Gaz and his demands that I go to the Swan to watch him be pissed and get off with a munter. Again. Warren eventually arrived so had a quick drink with him and then we both departed via Filthy McDonalds for some hideous microwaved vegetable matter that someone called “food”. James was downstairs at Retro with a scary friend of his as we left - as was Moggy. James was a tad out of it. Bless. Urg. Given up on Central line as it’s well and truly cockfostered so am now squished on a Northern line train to Kings X. Fun. Track failure and signal failure on the Central line make this the quickest (smelliest, sweatiest) way there. Was just gonna go home but decided to do XXL instead, so wandered up to Aldwych for bus goodness. Warren said something about how he shouldn’t be eating McDs in his condition - which for a brief moment gave me the amusing mental image of him being pregnant Got to XXL at about 9:30. No-one there. So chatted on big leather sofas for a while and then went home. Slept badly due to James being up and about and not quiet. Plus all the other gays in my flat (zaty, bump and Gaz). Heard wierd noises from the kitchen that sounded like a zippo being lit. Drifted off into a waking dream state where in my mind I got up, walked into the kitchen and found the light off, it being hot, the oven door open, the oven on full and in the blue light of night, James sat in the corner by the sink with a deranged grin on his face, flicking sparks from a zippo as if trying to light non-existent gas and blow himself (and the rest of the flat) apart. Most surreal. Got up, tripped over Gaz whilst simultaneously scaring Bumpy out of my PC seat so I could check the ’dar and stuff. Went to work. Got pissed off with the tube. And now we’ve arrived full circle... Bits of song I might write, or maybe just a poem The smell of cut grass Filled the night The scent of undone order Ripe in our minds The earth moved beneath Spinning through nothing Falling through the night Right through the stars You don’t know what it’s like To be outside of you Looking through You don’t know what it’s like To be alone with you With the things you do I lost you then In a mind of possibilities A myriad paths All lead away Some say I’ll find you again But not the right ones Sometimes the best choice Is no choice at all You don’t know what it’s like To be outside of you Looking through You don’t know what it’s like To be alone with you With the things you do Alone on a hill The Fool breathes a sigh Aware of everything and nothing And of time going by The Fool is the goal The illusion of choice The ties that lay tight Not there, not mattering