I have returned (cereal in hand) and decided I should start really by posting something from Ford Madox Ford's The Good Soldier, a kind of recognition of the little "description" that's on the left of this post.
"You may well ask why I write. And yet my reasons are quite many. For it is not unusual in human beings who have witnessed the sack of a city or the falling to pieces of a people to desire to set down what they have witnessed for the benefit of unknown heirs or of generations infinitely remote; or, if you please, just to get the sight out of their heads."
That said, hopefully all this will not be too dreary, as even now I'm sort of feeling better, and would like nothing better than to talk about something mundane and pleasing.
I just munched into a humungous amalgamation of raisin and bran just now. No doubt the stickiness of some of the raisins has led to a bunch of the cereal coagulating. I don't suppose I should have just eaten it out of curiosity but it tasted fine and here's me not keeling over.
I've been thinking about who I should be allowing to read all this, the limiting of which (beyond strangers) should not be a problem since no one will know about this unless I tell them and ask them to come. Top of my contention list is my parents, who I would like to give some insight into my life, but don't know if they'd really appreciate it. The more people I know who I include, I think the more constrained I'd feel in my writing - in an overblown way the imposition of society creating self censorship. Well for the moment when no one will read this, it will remain Autonomous and unfettered; the very transposing of surface thoughts and emotions from me to the page!
I think I'm beginning to understand now the way in which Golding fell into moments of explicit meaning in his travelogue, it seems almost an inevitable product of writing down one's thoughts, that meaning and significance suggest themselves to you.
In an attempt to stave off the onslaught of such trappings of potential pretensiousness (internal or external to the self we wonder?) I will end this entry merely by saying that it's a pity this blogger doesn't function too well with Opera 7, though without pop-ups using IE for just this isn't too bad. I'm not a standards warrior intent on making things even, if I was I'd use that big hairy monster called Mozilla, or it's mewling puking sibling, Phoenix.
