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Monday, 11 January 2016


As I was driving to work this morning, already gloomier than the gloomy sky, there was a point at which a crazy, fleeting thought suddenly became a hope.

That hope, not yet realising that it was quite silly, somehow fed on the crazy, fleeting thought. Enchanted, then intoxicated by each other, these giddy partners, gathering courage and impetus, flicked on a few lights and rang some bells along my neural pathways until -for somewhere between a millisecond and a microsecond- the crazy thought and the silly hope almost convinced me to believe that I was about to wake up.

They almost convinced me to believe that I was not yet driving to work, but was about to wake up for the second time, about to wake into an ordinary gloomy day, a day in which I would not hear the news that my radio had already delivered. 

And, in that delirious little space between millisecond and microsecond, everything was OK.


  1. While saddened by the passing of Bowie, I have enjoyed hearing all the old music and seeing the various old footage of him on TV. But then I started worrying again, what will it be like when Paul McCartney passes away. I'm not a McCartney fan at all and if only someone could predict his passing then I'd book myself a darkened room for a week or so to avoid the inevitable gushing tributes, non-stop songs on the radio and TV coverage. One more thing, why was David Bowie not a Sir David Bowie, maybe he was to cool.

  2. I believe that he turned down a knighthood about ten years ago.