The Small Picture

John S has a one-man exhibition of his photography, starting July 2nd. He's told be about his work, and I've seen some of his emornous blow-ups of domestic engineering, but nothing recently. I'll cirtainly have a wander round the gallery.

It would be nice if I had someone to go there with. I expect H will be out of the country at the time. Maybe I should put an ad in the paper: "Wanted: Substitute boyfriend for intellectual discussions, art gallery visits and extremely long hugs. Three months, must have own mind."
Mark S phoned, asking if I fancied a beer and a laugh. 'Laugh' is code for 'blowjob against a tree at one in the morning' - quite compact as codes go. I told him I was busy and tierd, which amazingly is true. Besides, he's got a girlfriend.
What's Nick doing? No indication that he recieved my emails, and no presence on IRC. I reckon he's overstretched with work, overwrought with stress, and overcome with stage fright.

There's not much I can do here, seperated by distance. Short of jumping on a train, banging on his door and shouting "Speak to me!" - for which I suspect he would not be grateful - all I can do right now is wait and hope.
This week's songfight titles are Janjaweed, Policy of Rape, and What's In It For Me?. Just when I feel like making more music, they go and give us three overtly political titles. Politics is what I do when not doing the things that I write about in this blog.

Politics is my 'professional' life, and music belongs to my 'personal' life. Politics is what I do because I must; Music, friendship, sex and philosophy is what I do because I want. I try never to mix the two.

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