Boo hoo, it’s already Friday, and I almost feel like there hasn’t been any week off at all. One moment it was Monday, and I had all that time ahead of me, and now it’s Friday night and I have no time at all left of this week, and on Monday I’ll have to trudge back to school.
Life is so unfair. Particularly since some creatures here insist on bothering me with trivialities that they could handle themselves if they just gave it a bit of thought. Watson could flick the ball away with his tail if he just hooked the tail into the shape of a hockey-club. Mark could put his clothes on instead of parading around, distracting me from my important work.
Instead he just sitting there at the other desk, tempting me. “Lead me not into temptation. I can find it myself,” as the scientist Jon Bernal put it. But he did cook me faggots today, so when Stephen called I could tell him truthfully that I had eaten faggot with cream sauce.
I don’t understand my friends, but that truth made him fall apart laughing, saying that I am terrible, and a bad influence on people. Well, he’s right, I suppose, but what does that have to do with my dinner?
I have been binging on Swedish music today. Since I woke up, I have worked my way through a good portion of the Swedish rock band “Kent”. I have included a clip here of one of the best songs, in my opinion. Kent is good autumn music; there’s this hopefulness and bitter edge to Kent’s songs, as if they were singing hopeful songs with irony. Kent are incredible in setting moods. Another one, also one of the best songs.
This makes me want to scream along in song: “If you were here, Inside and outside, if you were here, if I was there…” I love this song.