Wednesday, 4 February 2004


My head was full of many things. I took a bus ride to let them run through.

A young man got on at Albany Street. He knotted his vertically striped scarf in the 90s way of two ends fed through the loop end. He looked like a student. I always wanted to live in the cream houses round the edge of Regent's Park. Wide pavements of flagstones, smooth and beautiful. Looking out over peaceful landscaped gardens.

I love to walk in the park from Regent's Canal to Great Portland Street. Especially in the rain with a large black umbrella. Like a Renoir painting. Grand days of pursuits before leisure and hobbies like shopping.

You smoked a cigar and looked pleased as punch rolling it in your fingers and puffing on it like a fat cat. Afterwards we walked - through to Covent Garden and Leicester Square, down Lower Regent Street. Searching for excitement as all the places chucked out. Eventually ending up in St James' Park and paddled under a weeping willow.

Today is a day when I used to go driving. Sitting in the car listening to music worth driving to, touring the city - empty streets of Smithfield, Moorgate and Bank. Bridges. Roundabouts. In the early hours. Just driving. Today I've got the itchy feet of the bored. Good day for the long open roads of California, deserts, wide skies and nobody.

And finally when my head is empty I sit on a bus going home. Passing the familiar. Just looking without thinking. Someone peels an orange and eats it. It smells lovely, citric and fresh. A woman is asleep with her chin resting on her chest, snoring. Outside a newsagents the evening standard's grabbing headline is Murder of a Family - first pictures. Will we never tire in our quest for the sensational. I can't believe what the headline actually says. Does anyone want to see that stuff really? Bright yellow patent leather stilettos with huge black heels.

The world suddenly feels small. I must DO something this weekend.

I feel reflective in two senses - analysing situations, thinking things, and mirrored, if I reflect back the world around me it will find me invisible because all it will see is itself.

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