23.11.2002 | 10:08 p.m.
November is the best month.

Yesterday, as I was walking to the library, I realised the familiarity of the day. The drooping mist was vestigial of lives and loves obliterated by the blades of time. Of leaves falling majestically against the darkness. Of desperation running away to hide in the warmth of grey cashmere. Calculus tests trapped in the complexity of lies. Walker's Cheese and Onion, and Chips Ahoy! Fumes of whiskey and weed entwined with perspiration. Lying on sex sheets, verbalising fear. Running away from food only to fall weepingly into its soothing arms. Whispered touches in graveyards. Tom Waits' dissonance sneaking our routines. Birthday bonfires extinguished by urine.

Of therapists recommending tae-bo lessons. Guitars and Christian exclamations climaxing in tears. Icy water poured down shirts. Stolen traffic signs showing us the way. Crooked posters with insignificant subtexts. Sighs frozen in mid-air. Gin-soaked cruises on the Thames. Pregnancy scares stunted by science. Text messages glowing beatifically under blankets. Undone laundry soiling friendships. Unearthed friendships seated patiently. Quote collections in heavy circulation. Forehead kisses promising forever. Peanut butter good-byes that never end.....

....of the emotional landscape against which this year has been painted.

deja vu? | jamais vu?