Dog's Dinner

"You're not loved because you're lovable, you're lovable 'cause you're loved."

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Hi There!

I've been taking a break from the madness of the internet cafe with its wretched continuous loop of techno and house music and its legions of lisping, adenoidal teenage miscreants grunting and hooting at each other during their extended binges of virtual homicidal mania. The only other places i can blog from are friends' apartments, where it's rude, and my school, where the library is often closed. I'm using the library just now, for example, but it closes in about ten minutes. So the internet cafe is the main hub of the operation.

Plus I've been working on a rather ambitious post going into further detail about my situation here, but somehow haven't quite got my head round it yet. Look out for something of considerable bulk and breadth, and some surprising extra special treats as well, I hope, in the coming days.

What's more, I've been spending a large amount of my time retreating into the world of P.G. Wodehouse. Had never read him before this autumn, but I just finished my third book of his and can't wait to read the fourth (the quartet happened to be languishing in a used bookstore across the street from my place of work, and on the day a few weeks ago when my TV went into a coma I decided to stock up on reading materials.) (The Idiot Box is now back in action, which is the ideal state of affairs. For whatever reason, I love to read with the faint murmur of the television in the background; I guess it gives the illusion of people being around, and sometimes something watchable comes along.) (Around the same time, my Discman was stolen from the internet cafe during an unguarded moment, restoring the balance not only of Good & Evil but of Self & World, as I could no longer succumb to the temptation to walk around in a solipsistic dreamscape, oblivious to the sounds of the city, closed off from it.) (Although I do love how the movement of everything-- on TV, or on the street-- always fits with whatever music you play against it like a choreographed ballet. In that sense maybe it's not solipsistic.)

It snowed here last weekend: gorgeousness and gorgeosity made flesh. Usually Silesian snow quickly turns grey and black, but this time it didn't have a chance to since it continued snowing through yesterday and then had melted away entirely by this morning. Today's been a rainy one. As my good friend Khalis Ameen, ne Ernest Hill, would say: "Liquid sunshine."


At 10:47 AM, Blogger jimeye said...

Happy Thanksgiving buddy, miss you. Wish you had your own computer and internet so that you could keep me up to date with the comings and goings of Gliwice in conjunction with the musings of your mind but somehow I think the harsh surroundings of the internet cafe add some sort of edge to your writings. What is Wodehouse all about, I am curious. Enoy the liquid sunshine.


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