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the truth gets in through the tiny holes
On 2002-09-23 at 2:38 p.m.... There was an earthquake last night, which is bizarre to start with. Also, it was in Birmingham (that well-known geological hotspot). My favourite thing so far has been the headline in the Manchester Evening News: DID THE EARTH MOVE FOR YOU? Only after I read that. Then I walked around the cathedral, which is soaringly beautiful and perfect, outside of being built in the name of religion. I had a dream the other night (actually I had two that I remember, but the other one was about Toblerones) to do with the Crusades, which have always struck me as the result of lots of Christians being smug in the same direction. They (the Crusades) were being commentated on by our regional news meteorologist ('King Richard is sweeping through the Ottoman Empire'), who always emphaSISes the wrong sylLABles when she's ON TV, and whose mother's class I was in when I was five. Fact. So, yeah. It was like the Jihad Forecast in my head, and I just thought you needed to be told. I enjoy buying winter coats which cost £100 almost as much as I enjoy losing my wallet somewhere in the middle of the city. Luckily I had my cards in my pocket. Unfortunately I panicked and cancelled them all before I realised because I'm an epic twat. In effect, then, I mugged myself. Metropolises are weird places for that kind of thing - I'm working myself up to live in one, because I never have and they're my favourite environment, despite the inherent risks, which I'm sure my parents invented to assuage my bitterness at being moved to a crappy backwater. I know that cities make people hard and cynical, but I really don't care because hey, that way nobody tries to talk to you and there's at least five of everything. Including, apparently, minutes I have left on this computer. Eon's Personal Broadband Countdown: 7 days. Oh, baby.
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