Oooh you're a naughty mess

surprisingly feeling ok/ intake of yester: 3 bottles wine/ i had an excellent shiraz, a horrible chianti and a reasonable cabernet sauv/ pissed i made ferocious love to the alba and then sat in rapture ecouting to hendrix/ no matter how many times i hear 1983 it still blows my mind/ off to an art gallery this after/ then home for more love construction/ i really do love sex/ i mean really love it/ and because we've been together for 8 years we're very good at it/ so last was a really excellent night, and tonight shall be also/ was quite productive on the writing front yester/ managed several pages of 'fiction' and have been keeping an eye on various competitions, up-coming magazines &c./ to be a writer one must write every day, and i do/ but i must step up my reading/ this year i've read: b'fast at tiffs; last exit...; ...enderby; clockwork...; and half daisy miller; oh and a slice (maybe pages 40) lady j and john t; not great/ i am however steeped in pretentious, garrulous music reviews, sated on the meats of the culture sections of various broadsheets, drenched, nay drowning in a sea of news, both serious and celebrity, courtesy of metro, london lite, london paper (the), grazia, now, tattler and many more of ilk not dissimilar/ enough of the tenuous and mixed metaphors (well not mixed - each sentence segments metaphor is internally consistent, though i do rattle out not a few of difference) ed./ which reminds me, a staple of many years, the private eye, has not enjoyed my patronage for some time/ i used to devour it religiously/ so the writing is going quite well/ i do love writing/ i also adore reading/ when i cast my mind back to period when i've been immersed in a good book i remember that time very fondly/ it seems to enhance life in many and various ways/ a good book makes the brain feel fantastic/ it also gives one a richer palate of perspectives/ and ones writing become more eloquent/ i always marvel at how poetic my journal entries are during a period when i'm reading copiously/ when i was a serious addict in finsbury park i read a number of the classics and became such a fit reader i devoured roy porter's 700 treatise on medicine and philosophy, flesh in the age of reason in no time/ its a great book by the way reader and well worth checking out/ so a fit reader makes for a good writer (in me anyway)/ currently i seem to have the writing bug but not so much the reading/ this is a shame/ i'm enjoying james' miller and intend to continue working my way through the books on my shelf once i've completed it/ i was toying with the idea of reading paradise lost again/ i read all twelve books when commuting the other year and it was an amazing experience/ i'd alight battered on verse/ beautiful and remarkable it was/ but no/ i've read a fair slice of purgatory by old dante, so should finish that/ i also intend to make light work of nietzsche, as i've pretty much all his books and have hardly read any of them/ i also have a lot of henry james, some dos., plenty poetry, some chandler/ i want to get back into henry miller/ i was a big fan as a teenager/ i carried a salaciously designed copy of sexus everywhere with me when i was about 15/ i also dressed in a miller style - loose beige slacks, leather brogues of light tan and a loose light blue shirt, notebook and sexus resting under my arm, thick hair unkempt/ i don't remember if i finished it/ in those days books were far more of a prop, an adjunct of my fierce individuality/ i loved to carve idiosyncratic images for myself, cool by individual images/