f'n' g'd tho' w's a h'r'bl' dr'nk w'nk'r y'st'r./ thus un-on to aa today, 1430, innit?/ it is a horrible sickness and one i intend to beat/ i ken p'pl' say one must quit 4 1s self but i must mainly for the alba/ she doesn't deserve this/ at one point i would have said she does/ for reasons i shall not go into i was at one point determined to exact revenge upon her/ however now we're reconsiled i really do love her and my alcoholism is destroying her/ thus i must do everything in my power to qwitt/ feez ahwt...

f'n' g'd/ sipping bl'k c'f'e made with my new filter system, listening bucktown, smif 'n' wessun/ slept well/ drank little yester: a quad-whisk., 1 magners, 1 can tr'pl' f'lt'r'd st'la, 1/2 btl rioja over 12 hours/ cold cold bone cold it is here 2dey thus dog hasn't been for a spin yet/ now listening who you think i am, mf doom/ have no work on which is fine fine fine/ thus a day of reading private eye and making a dent in the pile of books i've on the go: michaelangelo, a guide by the british library; the gambler, dostoyevsky; sketches from the hunter's album, turgenev; selected short stories, dh lawrence/ how empty and two dimensional life'd be sans lit., painting, music et al/ reading material of decent quality is the most mind expanding experience, bar a good trip/ it acquaints you with an individual's inner life, something not often available in the arena of day-2-day social relationships/ indeed, people i usually find fun but i learn from books/ 't's always been thus for me...

g'd jour/ drinking divine rioja, listening incarcerated scarfaces, raekwon/ 'd late doc.'s app. so to pharm. late too/ en r't' h'm' cl'p'm j'nct'n station l'k'd impressive against the deep blue of an early autumnal eve./

all acceptable/ mutt walked, hangover tamed and about to do some work b4 the mother arrives for her weekly visit/ listening It Ain't Nuttin' (feat. MF Doom), The Herbaliser/ drinking water from a striped mug/ toying with the idea of a whiskey but one is not enough and a thousand is too many so i may leave it/ been watching garth marenghi's darkplace again and pissing the self with myrth/

listening i don't know anything, mad season, lamenting the passing of ol' layne/ a tragedy, but more so because he died before he could finish all the drugs in his flat/ shit this music projects me right back to mid-90's as it sounds so much like alice in chains, stone temple pilots, motherlovebone, all those wonderful bands/ what a decade man, plus rave culture, drum and bass, detroit techno, black grape, tricky, massive attack, beck, smashing pumpkins, nirvana, pearl jam (i know but i was a teenager)...i weep for the passing of one of the best cycles of my life...fucking metalheadz at bluenote, hoxton, dj food, ninja tune, the sudden flash of brilliant inde cinema from britain and america...sob sob sob...where did all the lesbian seagulls go?/

all guurd/ v. little booze yester bar 1/2 btl of v. good rioja/ bed early, slept for 12hrs and now feel pretty cleansed, sipping tea/ listening fall back, big l and kool g rap/ reading sketches from a hunter's album, turgenev/ dogg is well tho' cursed with fear-inducing flatulence so i'v' h'm on a strict diet, no scraps &c./ london looks particularly beautiful as the leaves turn/ windy too/ out...

good day/ w'k'd this morn., made stunning eggs, skript pi'k'd this after and now sip chenin blanc and about to finish the welsh book/ it is shit in a chuck palanuick shit way (lacking depth, complexity, a sort of bullied grown up mid-level intellects picture of the dynamics of human relationships, the world demarcated into super-alpha-male bullies and pathetic, sniveling geeks who've been bullied all their lives and continue to be so, though they finally find some redemption/ id est nothing you can't learn about humanity from the hostel films (or indeed anything made by any reasonably intelligent grown-up geek))/ but i'm enjoying it...

slept rather well last nuit/ w'k' f'n' g'd as conzomd on'y i btl rose and 1 can tr'pl' f'lt'd stella yester. and ate well/ if only i c'ld lick d'booze/ i just can't maintain abstinence as the mo' i start to feel better i get wrecked again/ i am a sensualist through and through/

drinking rose and listening to back to rhyming, lord finesse/ bones ache a bit, consequence of my sur-meth use d'lay-t/ hummm...cooked wild mushrooms mit cream, wine, &c. for luncheon/ then read some, took dogg outt, spoke with bra and resisted going to bed for a napp/need more eve booze but cash is serious low consequence forgot my fucking pin number and have to w8 2-4 wanking days for a new one/ bollix (prolix?)/ yhum...let me kleer my.../ out of weed...me smoke it all up last night/ enjoyed about 3/4 of the lord of the rings/ didn't know what the fuck was going on, possibly as i missed the first hour, then witnessed masses of armored bodies undulating, the foremost fighting, on unimaginably vast landscapes, a few key guys shouting 'orks' and 'pull back' and 'stand ground'/ but in my stoned state the imagery seemed highly impressive/ that said i enjoyed fucking devils advocate, possibly the worst film ever made, stoned on mind numbing ak-fowtie-s'en (that's '47')/ but since we never know meaningless noize fills the space between sleeping/

i shy from the complexity of emotions, p'haps why i seek some form of regular oblivion/ these include self-doubt, e.g. am i a good writer, do i have what it takes to be one, why is it important to me to become one, are all decisions coloured by extraneous factors (if so then they are not extraneous)/ one of the waugh dynasty said there's no point becoming a writer unless you have something to say and are determined to say it well/ this is something i've held for a long time; there is no point forcing it/ if you do, it'll sound shit.../ i dunno...i dunno...voltaire said to doubt is unpleasant but certainty is absurd/ thus the human condition is one of constant frustration or delusion/ nice, but i'm inclined to agree/also 'd an argument with my brother about his behaviour when we went out: took him to a place to get wede, there were lots of people sat around the kitchen table and we were invited to stay for drinks/ my brother, who suffers extreme social-anxiety, spoke not a word throughout, which is fine, but when we left started slagging them all off, clearly as nothing more than a defense mechanism/ this has really stayed with me and i've been brooding about it a fair bit/ i mean i understand where he's at/ when i was a prolific user of the 'reb i too found the society of others almost unbearably uncomfortable and would retreat into myself, constructing spurious reasons for my doing this but always knowing the truth deep down/ currently reading the bedroom secrets of the master chefs, irvine welsh, and it's what you'd expect/ shallow psychology, predictable plot and characters but i'm quite enjoying it/ i think i'm enjoying a break from the intensely stimulating and penetrating work of dh lawrence/ he is just too damned good/ started sketches from the hunter's album, turgenev, t'other day and it is fantastic, the humor uber wry, reminding me of gogol/

f'n' g'd/ up late with alba drinking whiskey and smkn buurd post-divine supper of roast chicken and seasonal veg., throat lubed with pinot noir/ 'n' 4 lunch i cooked fine wild mushrooms with thick, juicy king prawns, white wine, cream and fuselli, all washed with chardonnay/ effing nise/ was roused at 0930 by the mutt so commando rolled from the bed str8into tha thredz and hit the street, dog to the left, shit bag in the right/ acquired still warm baguette tho this seemed less desirable one i'd plucked the shit from round the base of the 176 bus stand/ well...currently listening holiday in berlin, frank zappa and drinking weak ass coffee (well not in itself (what is in itself!)) but cos i've been at the cafe last cpl of weeks drinking espresso/ a new cafe's opened up opposite the one i used to frequent and they do badass espresso, not quite milan but far superior to anything i've had in london on a cpl yrs/ hey-sex-worker itz off to wk we go...