It seems that today is some sort of National Turkey Day. Hooray for the Queen! Living in a colony creates some interesting perspectives, like this nagging feeling that I’ve had for my whole life that I was born on the wrong continent. In any case, bank holiday declares this a Robin day. A more difficult Robin day to figure out, as everything is closed. If anyone has any suggestions as to what to do with the boy, they would be greatly appreciated.<\/p>\n
Messenger is down, effectively cutting me off from my main form of communication. I’m leaving Yahoo on, though with only two contacts, one of whom has no working computerbox at the moment, it seems a rather vain hope. Sitting here, I’ve got Radiohead softly playing and there are no sounds from outside. It would be lonely if I paid attention to it, but the pale light distracts me, keep me looking at my computer keys. It’s washed out, but this morning for some reason I can see detail slightly more crisp. I’m holding on to it.<\/p>\n
I can’t remember what I have booked for this week. I know Wednesday night’s promised to Alistair, but that’s really it. There’s no timeline fluidly unfolding in my brain, though I know that I must have made plans. Gavin arriving has thrown me, my linear thought’s become a little unfocused. At the moment he’s a crumpled lump under my covers that I’m uncertain how I feel about. He asked me a question yesterday, something he picked up from someone he hitch-hiked out with, “A woman is at her sister’s funeral and she sees this incredibly attractive man there. Her eyes are glued to him, but afterwards he gets lost in the mix and she can’t find him. The woman then goes to killer her other sister. Why would she do it?” He didn’t even get to finish the question before I blurted out the incredibly obvious answer, “To see the man again”. Unsurprisingly, the right answer. When he was asked, he fumbled, not knowing why. Apparently it’s a test to catch psychopathy. I think it also catches pragmatics. Pragmatics with daddy fucked me and I liked it<\/i> desktops. We of us who’ve got stranger levels of indifference through internet use.<\/p>\n
My bruises from dancing are visible now. Patches of plum and yellow the size of plum pits. They line the back of my legs like tattoos. That, and I think I’ve confirmed the carpal tunnel\/tendonitus or whatever the frag it be. Puffy flesh and shooting pains from the slightest things. Time to switch hands on the mouse.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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