I woke up this morning feeling utterly miserable. I think it might be diet-related: yesterday, the thought of food, especially my hotel’s miserable excuse for food, seemed unthinkable. There are other places to eat here but they closed before I was ready to eat.
Having forced half a banana down my throat this morning seems to be alleviating the worst of the misery. I’ve been existing on sweet black tea, water and boiled sweets, so when I stop to think about it, of course some of the feeling is diet-related.
However, last night and this morning I scribbled some random thoughts into my diary which might be worth sharing:
The tune in my head tonight is waiting for the worms. I’m bothered – and wonder if you’re curious why – I can recall lyrics and tunes so clearly yet some of last month is already turning hazy.
Very scared when a load of police sit down in my hotel’s restaurant
Perversion of a Dire Straits lyric (from Romeo and Juliet) is wryly amusing
I think the reason I hit myself time and time again with Pink Floyd and Roger Waters music is because it often seems utterly apt. Right now, it’s
I wanna go home
Take off this uniform and leave the show
And I’m waiting in this cell
Because I have to know
have I been guilty all this time?
that most accurately reflects what I feel about being alive and/or sentient right now and at many times in the past.
The tune for this morning is David Bowie’s Boys keep swinging, especially the promise that I’ll get my share. But I’ve never even met Milo Minderbinder!!
I’ve been wondering about my aims for this trip. The following table deliberately omits one of my stated aims:
|aim||marks out of ten||comments|
|escaping my situation||minus 5||no matter where I go, there I am|
|sight-seeing||5||I’m not that interested in temples because I’m an atheist. I am interested in ordinary people’s lives but that’s led to unpleasantries.|
|environmentalism||minus several million||flying and use of plastic-bottled water*|
|seeing, understanding and then finding ways to combat poverty and other social problems||2||seen and understood but I haven’t a scooby-doo where to go from here.|
*so I’m going to try to get through today only buying drinks in glass bottles
I’ve got a little black book with my poems and bastards in, Mr Major. My name is in the front.