Doubt anyone reads this anymore, ever since I made my wordless transition to private journals. Why was my last post so angry? Can’t really remember. Something about power stapling. Denise said this in class today about Churchill, how her lines in the millennium plays are quotational and devoid of self. That’s something I’ve always wanted to do – echo platitudes in a play for a purpose. Do away with ums and ahs and write some scathing social critique. But these days I save my wit for people who will laugh immediately at it. Friends, cats, my chickens are also very responsive. I told my sister that I thought no-one cared at the end of the day but him. But let me: ‘hallow your name to the reverberate hills/And make the babbling gossip of the air/Cry out, O!’
