Revolution needed, apply within. I’ve been looking at some of the stuff on Friends Reunited, and, even bearing in mind its function, it’s way too passé for me, baby. Obviously I’m an accumulation of my memories and desires and I mix them liberally, but vraiment, there’s more to life, there must be more than this! To cap it all, I’m reading Céline’s Mort à crédit. Ach, la vie, quel cauchemar! Quel rêve… qu’elle rêve. Oh, elle rêve, ça c’est sûr. She raves too. And craves more. Discuss your reasons for rambling. The pussy cat is in the garden, sitting daintily under the fire thorn. The doglet is in the garden sitting scruffily under the cherry tree. The sky is pearling greyly and I really ought to be thinking about my own ensaio sobre a cegueira. It must be done. I must do it. Tomorrow. I’ll have more time tomorrow. Tonight I’m going to blast my way through here with some ultra-loud music. Me voy, amiguitos. Oh yes.