Home isn't a house, it's the whole neighbourhood, and I won't be satisfied till I know every inch of my home.


Moving is sort of weird. There goes the right to say "this is my turf and I've been around here for ages, just follow me and you won't get lost." And at night, when the moon is high, it's your road, not a public road, nor even your grandfather's road, and the multitude of lighted houses zoom past you as objects in stasis, to a ghost in the wind.

New home is much too townish for my liking. Maybe the back door - out past the home of my sometime and once-again neighbour, and into the night - sure I'm no Batman - but that makes it even more fun, as he has the (debatable) authority to do things and I have none. It's a natural world out there - excepting the constructions of men - and natural doesn't necessarily mean safe or anything similar, it's wild too, and dangerous, where everything's taken and nothing given.


And the road is mine for the moment by right of the only claimant upon it.


Never a need for time like now, never a sense of lost time like now, never a frenzy like now to use up every last drop of that shining water in the river running dry.


Sleep where unnecessary is for the lazy. Which probably everyone is at some point in time.


GP is tomorrow, and I'm wishing the best of luck to everyone that's been important - and hoping that someday, impossibly, we can all get together and have a good laugh again.


At the end, I'm going to tilt my head back and laugh.


I will do everything within my limits, and I won't forget to push them too.