01. crushed, financially, utterly. humbled, even. eating only human equivalent of dogfood (beans, bread, instant noodles, smash).
02. new house new room. new room shaping up. as i suspected, is good for work, a bedroom/study ambience. on downside, back in a single bed. every nite i tuck myself into a metaphor for failure.
03. every nite, i’m recording four or five dreams. lucidity, once or twice, plenty interesting raw material coalescing from memory fragments.
04. have produced the first faltering draft of exhibition promo-txt.
05. have lined up next two writing projects. both completions of abandoned scripts i’m sure i can salvage, revamp, transfigure.
06. haven’t actually, definitively finished current project yet. hey, i’ve been busy, ok?
07. the guy who moved us had a pony-tail, played in a christian rock band, ran a mobile disco. promised to send a ceedee of his forthcoming album for us to review in mag: he knows where we live.
08. there is a slender trapdoor in new kitchen ceiling. tried to persuade housemates someone is living up there. asked what they’d do if they went to the toilet in the night, and found a rope dangling down... they ignored me. but uneasily.
09. deejayed at audio again. a fucking wash-out, inside and out – massive gale locked everyone within their homes, and the venue told us to stop playing at midnight. stomped drunkenly homeward, exchanging few coins in pocket for suspiciously reduced cheese sandwich. stuffed clumsily into mouth (mostly). passed out fully clothed, remembered no dreams.
10. the kettle exploded last night. arc of sparks. exciting.
11. almost knocked over on the way to this internet cafe - by a yellow tractor. i wd have died of embarrassment