"i shall never forget the red mist that descended over me, years later, when i once saw youths throwing stones at some ducks in a park in King's Lynn. i picked up some huge pieces of builder's rubble nearby and started to hurl them at the boys, roaring the kind of meaningless obscenities that only pure fury can put into the mind. 'you shit spike wank turdy bastardheads...how do you fucking like it, you tossing tossers...' that kind of thing."

this paragraph, written by good old Stephen Fry, sums up what i would gladly do to the person who killed six (or was it five?) kittens. bloody hell, i want to (insert violent thought here).

i seethe.

i wish it'd rain, and that i had lots more time to travel, and read, and sleep, and talk aimlessly with people i love, and be happy, fundamentally. she told me she was nearly in tears just now, and i hurt because i don't want her to.

i've always wondered what people see after ingesting hallucinogenic substances, what i'd see, in particular. maybe sound comes alive, colours form their own diamond spectrums, and fears grow fluttering wings and brush your face so you scream.

sooner or later trin will find someone else, and the thought drives me mad and feral all over again. for fuck's sake, i'd probably like that person, but to see him or her with trin and know; oh god, oh god. i don't know what i'm saying. the puddle of jealous self-loathing is too cold for my liking.

i have been listening to El Tango de Roxanne on repeat.

immediately after waking up, thanks to BBC News, i discovered the new legalism that is prostituition. needless to say, am faintly amused and appalled.

i just got back from trin's place. we watched Maurice, which is full of reasons. it is a reasonably good film, Hugh Grant as Clive is reasonably suave, and Maurice (i've forgotten the actor's name) is reasonably conflicted and like a golden retriever. it doesn't differ very much from the book, apart from adding/omitting several scenes.

if i said what i was thinking i'd just sound bloody stupid, so let's just leave it along the lines of, "i don't think i'll ever be able to completely forget her", what you always hear from those tired lovers.

am growing more canine by the second.

fie upon blogger's new posting system. i prefer the old font, and the old layout.

this is the first time someone has dedicated a poem to me, and i feel wonderful.

i ate strawberries dipped in sugar around two hours ago. they are like sex.

what is it with dreams? a week ago i dreamt i were a boy in a checked shirt with a magic mirror, and i want to go back in there and see what happens, whether my hands will melt when i press them against the cold glass. but last night i dreamt trin got herself someone, a girl with intellect and a grey web page. the fact i'm glad it's not real proves so much.

the hat is abandoned temporarily, because i have decided i am definitely not up to being a public sartorial disaster. it will be reserved for the bathroom.

today i found a hat in my cupboard. it is the most enticingly vulgar item of clothing i have ever seen; it is violent blue leopard print. needless to say, i have been wearing it around all day.

i admit to being rather distracted of late. i spent a fortune on books and more books. fortunately, my mother subsidised the films i purchased last night. also, i'm constantly thinking about a particular girl.

stephen fry encompasses everything genius in this world, and i am mind-bogglingly happy. with these closing statements, i resume studying.

so, i finished reading Order of the Phoenix. i think i'm one of the first to do so. i guess i'll only comment on it a week from now, just to be safe.

a while ago i splashed peach juice on my face. i think that is what greek gods do.

the idea of people dying as i press down on each key is interesting.

heather and trin left today. heather'll be back in five days, trin in ten. i tell trin i love her only before she leaves, because it comes out caustic in the worst ways otherwise. there's this line from Velvet Goldmine, i think, that goes: "it's funny how beautiful people are when they're walking out the door." and that's how trin will look when she goes away, more or less permanently, next year. it's been a long time.

i had a cool day with someone whose surname means "conquered while conquering", but is a great kid nonetheless. i like eating with her, and discussing strange topics with her, and being near her in general. if you've read Lolita, you'll understand when i say she was a nymphet, judging by the photographs on her walls; and still is. we're going places together, all right (although only after my re-tests next week).

gloaming is an unpleasant word, although it means twilight or dusk.

i watched Twelfth Night, um, last night. the dancing was great, and so was the humour. Malvolio was brilliantly camp; it's quite understandable because he is like that in real life.

if i were in Twelfth Night i think i would play Sebastian, because i have a bad memory and i want to be fawned over by Antonio.

a few hours before that, i was a travelling salesman for a welfare association. it was quite enjoyable, although i'm sick of the train. i shall go to sleep in a few hours, and i promise to read up on the Middle-Eastern conflict.

i want to watch that German film The Experiment. being the walking pretention i am, i like international films very much. but so does heather.

i just finished about a ton of mathematics. before that, i was in town to purchase Radiohead's Hail to the Thief. to see what i have to say about it scroll down a bit. i was intelligent in primary school but that's all in the past. i'm resigned to the fact i will, indeed, become a chauffeur. it will be very enlightening. i can watch people, read, and sleep as i wait for my filthy rich employer to come out of the ballroom.

Deep Impact was on television a few days ago. it made my mother cry sustainedly. i don't like thinking about the world ending, because although it's a bloody awful world, it doesn't deserve to be killed by a meteor. not yet, anyway. there's a certain irony in a thousand years' work literally going down the drain.

okay, here's my opinion on Hail to the Thief: i was too stupid to appreciate Kid A and i liked Amnesiac, so i'm quite neutral towards this one. all i can say is Radiohead made me feel in the past, but i'm not getting anything now, and that's sad. their lyrics have gone from introspective to un-understandable, and blind experimentalism isn't too good. still, maybe all i need is some more time.

Rufus's telephone number is written down on a piece of paper in front of me. who is Rufus?

they need to change my motherboard, and shipments won't come in till, say, next month. which is great.

before i say anything else, i have to mention that i am in love. i could go on for hours and hours, really i could.

i had an interesting week. i went out with the DG crowd, which wasn't very eventful apart from me gorging myself on pies and exceptionally stupid machines. after that, i spent a day with tiffany, in which i was so disturbed i was ready to eat my shirt and pick my teeth clean with guitar strings. she played demented games with barbie dolls, kissed her Rottweiler, and dressed in pink and heels. needless to say, i was very uncomfortable resembling her boyfriend, or anyone's, for that matter. as if that wasn't enough, she threw a psycho fit on the bus and made me steal a pamphlet from a fellow called Edmund's mailbox. am a maladroit, all right.

the repairmen are finally coming tomorrow, and i'm writing poetry again. i'm re-learning, very gradually.

when i was hunting for a clean cup in the kitchen, i happened to look up and see a star. it was very lonely and very beautiful, like the one in the final page of The Little Prince. i like stars. oh, and phyllis thought i had a five-year-old cousin who ate paint.

the band name has also been finalised. it is The Red Cushion and Glove. tiffany and i were discussing the possibility of Hand In Glove, after the Smiths song, but we decided it was too unoriginal. so we looked around for random objects, and my gaze fell upon said cushion. to clarify things a little, the glove isn't red.

it's funny how the computer is on its path to dante's ninth level of hell. today its speakers started echoing. at least my mum has a laptop.

today i and trin found a freshly shed snakeskin ouside school. she yelled and i laughed. i truly enjoy not being afraid of snakes, but only when the other party hasn't figured out my insectophobia. being in love with her for the past two years was shitty, but i'm really going to miss her when she leaves for boarding school. i have to learn how to play Ticket To Ride before she even begins her packing.

am going to read, and watch some inane television. sometimes i wonder who i address my 'yous' to.

a brief review of a significant event: campfire was a blast. heather and tiffany were great emcees; the fire took a while to start, but it warmed up pretty fast; mashing eggs is good for the passive-aggressive.

holidays begin next week.