Contradictions

Somewhere in the giant cosmic calendar, today is marked “Michelle, London: Contradictions, contradictions. Haha! Hahaha!”

Staying awake the entire night trying to make up for a lazy day. Making it downstairs for breakfast, and guzzling coffee, only to go back upstairs and fall asleep for five hours till three.

Magical fantastic hair, which would be reason for a little frivolous gleeful smile if I was going to Cargo tonight to see Ninja Tune maestros in action. But I’m not, because of the tube strike. I hope the strikers know that because of them, the tiny proportion of the world that would have been at Cargo have missed out on my hair.

Happily putting up my new Sandman poster (O gods of Blu-Tack, I beseech thy benevolent stickiness). Getting annoyingly outbid at the last moment for a Sonic Youth poster at ebay.

Cave paintings in the sky around half past four. I saw an icthyosaurus, struggling out of the tentacled grasp of a giant squid, and its beak broke the surface of the clouds in a flurry of blues and lilacs. An hour later, all is dull greyness and spittle, and I write this in a mood of restless discontent, hoping that the next contradiction for today will be something bad turned good, which would be refreshing.

Then again, I fully acknowledge that lots of my days involve no early risings or breakfast, evil hair, things at ebay that I can’t even afford to bid on or don’t get shipped to the UK, and disgusting weather, with none of the little joys that peeped into today, so I suppose I should quit kvetching.