Last night, and for the second, consecutive Friday, I went round to see Les. Les is wonderfully chilled, friendly and humourous as Northern English tend to be. He recommended listening to Pink Floyd's The Division Bell in bed on headphones, which I duly did, an experience well worth carrying out and, indeed, repeated. Les has also been offering me bottles of South African cider, which are quite intoxicating and so very sweet. I love cider.
Anyway, last night I rode over to Les's. I had had a bottle of Leo already and some coffee. I guess I must have been aggitated by something, and very possibly still am, as I found myself talking in a negative fashion and teasing Les in a cruel manner. I instantly recognized the characteristic in myself and immediately dispelled it. I was quite shocked that this devil inside of me had made a reappearance after so many years absence.
I phoned him today, and apologized. He said he didn't see anything and was his usual humourous self.
I saw it though, and I knew what it was.
Other than that I gave Les a few pointers in the shape of Nick Drake, Alan Watts and Robert Altman.
Grace is buzzing right now. It's difficult to keep up with her sometimes.
It's coffee. Often has a pschotic effect
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