lafolie

So many things to say, or do.
School has just started and I'm already drowning in a pool of work, this year will surely be a hard one. Theachers are Ok, but I had a small quarrel with one early this morning, due to her lack of organisation and sense of humour. My project teachers are a real "death Squad" they're like entering Aushwitz after a year of pure freedom. Anyway, Band has a new lead singer, he has different influences but the singing is fine :) And the look suit its purpose, I guess. Maybe next year we'll be performing. I'm looking forward to that.
I always wanted to get uop on stage bare footed, but when I saw that charlote from Ash does it already, I forgot about it.. I don't want to look like a ash wannabe something.. nothing against them, really, but I don't know, they're not my type.

Now, I'll bang my head on the wall, twice, as I reagard it. My life seems unreal.

Monday morning was a dread. Seing all these people again, talking to you, inviting you to do something. These new people, old people, students, teachers. I felt good, though. Not that I'm that attached to them, but I quite missed them thoughout the summer.
London was absolutely fantastic.
That city doesn't exist. Not now not ever.
What a great place to be in. What a great place.

Down streets and up, and down again. Up and down. Mr. John lives next door invited me for tea. He lives with a spanish guy called Xavi. What a sweet person he is, Mr. John. Actually, I don't really know his name, I call him Mr. John, by when we talk I avoid calling him by the name, because he never told me what it was. He's an old man, had a stroke few months back, and now walks with a stick. He showed me an album of old photographs about his school days in Surrey. Sweet sweet man.

hmmm..
I've nothing to do except probably read. I've been reading marcel proust and his illusional bedtime stories, and Truman Capotes's voyages troughout the world. And I'm awaiting my so wanted trip to sweet London, city of my dreams.
Maybe on the fifth.

I just read a truly great fanfiction called: Caudrons Aflames.. search on fanfiction.net. Very HOT. All of it.

The Video store I usually go is running out of business, so They're giving away all movies for almost nothing. I think I bought at least 20.. (It would have ruinned me if I was to pay their price!)
Anyway, found Judas Kiss and Michael Collins!
Michael collins is fantastic! I had already seen it a long time ago, but its always great to take a look at it again.. Eamon DeValera, gorgeous, even though he's the "bad Guy".
Judas kiss.. crapy movie, crapy script, but Alan R and Emma at their top spot:) (Why on earth have they agreed in filming such a movie?) Go figure...

I must say, with great joy, that I find myself alive and in good health, somethimg that was very doubtfull 'till some time ago.
My mother is complaining about the dog's coff. He's old and sick, poor animal.
Tonight I must go and see Harry Potter and the Prisioner of Azkaban for the third time. It's imperative.

I had always been afraid of diseases.
Not death itself, but the suffering.

tomorrow...

Today I left home for a walk for the first time in three hole days. I know it's not much for most people, but for me it's quite umbereable. It hasn't been easy the last few days. It seems to me I've been doing the most stupid and unlikely things, like not leaving my bed, whatching too many hours of television, with its most idiotic shows, like two fat ladies (though I find it quite amusing, too badone of them died), or Floyd in Britain, and Ireland of course (that I find even more amusing) or the antiques road show, and changing rooms, that honestly, it's not the same that it used to be...Readding Harry Potters' books for the tenth time (though I dont consider that stupid, or unlikely, shall I say...)
Watching movies for the millionth time, such like sense and sensability (Alan Rickman looks dashingly handsome on that one, if I may say so) and million dollar hotel, which is also a master-piece. And I'm totally boring myself to death with reviewing the sole book I have of harold Pinter (a collection of plays), no money for others I'm afraid.
Meanwhile, London seems a dream to me, that is hard to becoma a reality, and I grieve for that to happen so soon, that now my days are being pretty much arrased with that idea.
petty.

The street was empty today.
It was raining. I'm sorry, did I offend you, I asked him. He seemed poor enough even for me.
The band was doing fine, we changed our name to simply VOID. But, my guess that it'll chnge again soon. I wanted a name that would be both non-sense and that could give you an austere picture as you pronounced it. Like a german gestapo, or Berlin in the 80's before the wall fell.
My cat's sick. I got it to the doctor. Maybe he's a person and I don't know. I mean, the cat.
He thanked me with a lick on my hand.
He's lovelly.

Im at the university. big delivery today..

Today's sunday. A terrible day, I suppose a dead day. My cat walks around the room helpless, I tell him to spot, because he's annoying me, but he doesn't pay atention. Sunday is a def day, where you hear no sounds what-so-ever, where no one speaks with you, and not even you speak to yourself.
My cat laid down on teh carpet. It's a huge cat, when streched it can get to my waist, and his pawns are as big as my palms.
And I think he's green, but thats me imagining thinks.

I was on the unniversity today working hard for a project with some of my coleagues, then my teacher came, but it was a surprise because he wasn't supposed to be on the unniversity today. And we talked and talked and talked a lot, even down the cafeteria. He's a nice man. But then, I got sad, late at night, because I felt lonely as I was walking down the street.
The point is, I tried to recall something good on my day's events, to avoid loneliness...
anyway, I'm drunk.

I made my first exibit yesterday.
I guess it went prety well. Better than I thought it would.

It's so unusual to see everyone so supportive.
A man came to me and asked me if I saw people's aureas. I said no. It's nothing to laugh at, it's quite serious actually. Not that I care about spiritual stuff, I don't. But it was impressive the way we talked. Then, a girl asked me if a man in one of the paintings was masturbating himself. I told her that each person has its own criteria to analyse to look at a painting.

Or it reaches you, or it doesn't.
That's all that art can do for a person.