the situation has developed, not necessarily to our advantage. emperor hirohito

such was my rest by the sea/ a surfeit of excess bought tides of malaise in which i sputtered and gasped vainly/ i am slowly recovering and have learned to think twice before i decide to take a holiday of any kind/

heed feels as if it has been rapered, my punishment for imbibing cheap blanc frenziedly la nuit d./ i thought the old pappa trick of mixing in a bit of water would work but whilst it dulled the razor sharp acidity the post-effects are very nasty and very real/ off to the coast today however so i should be able to repair the damage swiftly/ moreover lkng most 4wd to shellfish and good blanc/ l8rz...

desist all ye who...plagiarism is impossible for it is the experiences that underwrite a certain style that give it its gravitas/ so the artist has nothing to fear other than others making cash from a poor copy of what he/shes done/ but that is a superficial concern/ you just don't want something like that childhood dream where to go to the lavatory on some windy beach whilst your parents wait for you, come out and see an exact copy of you getting into the car with them/ a terrifying thought/ but the essence of good and style is emotional content, the experiences that style is underwritten by, and no one can plagarise that/

all is new/ pills booze escape/ rain without, i inside and so what for the within?/ do not neglect it, less you wish for hell....

neatness.../ up early drinking blk cfe n lsn-n t myoozik/ music is one of the things which keeps me on an even keel/ or i seek it out to keep myself even/ there are ways, and we all need them, just most do instinctively what keeps them sane rather than consciously/ most also don't realise a fragile network of routines is all that keeps them from madness/ take away the few things familiar to a person and see what happens/ it is naive to underestimate how fine the line betwixt what we call sanity and madness/ forewarned/

feel good/ went to festival yester with the al. drank much bottled stella and witnessed one decent act, a romanian folk group called MUKKA/ they played the most haunting music at one point bringing your humble narrator to tears/ caught a fantastic tan and then returned home for further drinking and fleshy pursuits/ most fun/ now drinking a glass of chilled pinot grigio and realigning my cerebellum/ pook-d-bra supposedly over l8r but his addictions to sleep and sheer lassitude have somewhat overwhelmed him/ he feels vindicated when he hears in my room, beach boys/ it's some way to die, a living death/