Friday, 16 February 2018


The tour de france man and the apple-eating woman, mentioned here previously as people who are always seen at a single location but are never present in it at the same time, well, you know what I'm going to say about them now don't you? I won't even bother saying it. Why give you the satisfaction.

I've acknowledged before that the necessity of respecting other people's privacy curtails what I am able to write about here, and consequently I write about the part of myself that stops where interactions with other people begin. Presumably this produces an autobiography which readers can and do complete according to what it is that they bring to the reading. That's not my concern. What does bother me is being constrained to just myself and a very incomplete version of myself at that.  It's boring. These people at the coffee place, that policeman I wrote about yesterday, I feel like I'm pushing at the boundaries of what's ethical by writing about them in the way that I have done. The only person who I have a significant relationship with who ever appears here in a real way is my doctor. I don't think I need to unpack why that relationship feels like my possession. I've got drafts of posts about relationships that I feel much less certain are my property to write about. It's strange to be uncertain about this because they are so obviously my stuff: two deal with dreams I've had about people, one is about my own childhood, and the other is just an anecdote with people besides me in it. I wrote them with the intention of publishing them on my other blog but I'm just going to think about it a little while longer before taking that step.

Anyway once you start looking for inception-type stuff in daily life  IT'S EVERYWHERE


Whatever this is

This is what police eat for breakfast. Banana big Ms and bananas.

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