London, mainly, last weekend
Dec. 10th, 2003 01:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
squirmeliaI bathe and bubblewrap floats above my submerged skin.
I watch a film about Derrida, contemplate deconstructionism and influenced by Derrida, I also wonder about Heidegger's sex life.
I see models of strange looking buildings, and architecture plans as wallpaper, looking like crazed patterns, glowing in the UV lights. I walk over cities that are covering the floors.
I finally find Believer magazine, and it's marked as a "Graphic novel".
I also find David Foster Wallace's infinity book, and the "IYI" acronym appears in my head for the rest of the day, but I don't buy the book, because my relationship with mathematical equations has gone all screwy.
I see St Paul's and it is glowing, but not as much as the sun at the weather exhibition, which I go and see again, and lie down on the floor, because it makes me feel calm.
I pin a yellow and pink tail onto someone, and it's the tail I wore when I dressed as a Yink for Halloween.
I realize that these moments won't last long and wish I could see these people more.
I take a sip of a garlic shot, by mistake.
Someone leaves because someone sets fire to their hair three times.
I think I dance along the street, holding onto people, which I always seem to do when I drink too much.
I see part of the code for a BBS that I use and wonder if that makes it seem less real.
I don't sleep that night, but remember a quaker parrot flying over me.
The person who I am sitting next to, sits really close.
I look for an inter-generational lesbian couple, and a guy wearing a skirt and an Invisibles badge.
I find myself in another situation where I think my conversational skills would improve if I had read some Harry Potter slash, even though I'm still not contemplating reading any Harry Potter.
I win a maze game thingy and read out part of someone's Nanowrimo novel and it's good, but sad, and I wonder if it was footnotes, but then I find out that it is real.
Someone reads out a bit of my novel and people seem to laugh and I can't remember whether it was supposed to be funny or not.
I realize how much I miss people who write.
I bump into the person I had pinned the tail to the day before and contemplate going to Devon with them because my train home is so delayed.
I watch a film about Derrida, contemplate deconstructionism and influenced by Derrida, I also wonder about Heidegger's sex life.
I see models of strange looking buildings, and architecture plans as wallpaper, looking like crazed patterns, glowing in the UV lights. I walk over cities that are covering the floors.
I finally find Believer magazine, and it's marked as a "Graphic novel".
I also find David Foster Wallace's infinity book, and the "IYI" acronym appears in my head for the rest of the day, but I don't buy the book, because my relationship with mathematical equations has gone all screwy.
I see St Paul's and it is glowing, but not as much as the sun at the weather exhibition, which I go and see again, and lie down on the floor, because it makes me feel calm.
I pin a yellow and pink tail onto someone, and it's the tail I wore when I dressed as a Yink for Halloween.
I realize that these moments won't last long and wish I could see these people more.
I take a sip of a garlic shot, by mistake.
Someone leaves because someone sets fire to their hair three times.
I think I dance along the street, holding onto people, which I always seem to do when I drink too much.
I see part of the code for a BBS that I use and wonder if that makes it seem less real.
I don't sleep that night, but remember a quaker parrot flying over me.
The person who I am sitting next to, sits really close.
I look for an inter-generational lesbian couple, and a guy wearing a skirt and an Invisibles badge.
I find myself in another situation where I think my conversational skills would improve if I had read some Harry Potter slash, even though I'm still not contemplating reading any Harry Potter.
I win a maze game thingy and read out part of someone's Nanowrimo novel and it's good, but sad, and I wonder if it was footnotes, but then I find out that it is real.
Someone reads out a bit of my novel and people seem to laugh and I can't remember whether it was supposed to be funny or not.
I realize how much I miss people who write.
I bump into the person I had pinned the tail to the day before and contemplate going to Devon with them because my train home is so delayed.
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-10 06:34 am (UTC)Oo did you go in Garlic & Shots by chance?
I used to know someone who either dated or fancied one of the barmaids in there.
I'm now considering that most of my life consists of people that I know have done things and little experience of my own. This warrants rectification methinks.
Not that I'm going to date the barmaid at Garlic & Shots just to make myself more comfortable with myself.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-10 06:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-10 07:09 am (UTC)Actually more scary is that the place is popular - terrifying.
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Date: 2003-12-10 07:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-10 12:51 pm (UTC)You must read Harry Potter.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-11 02:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-11 06:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-10 01:24 pm (UTC)I think it's lovely.
no subject
Date: 2003-12-11 02:05 am (UTC)