black mouse all the way

what is it about my housemate that I so hate, is it the complete arrogance of the snob, the tangle of old-age strands atop his ginger noggin or is it the demure authority that gets my fucking blood pressure rising rising almost bursting over the walls in my rage? This house is too small for me, for the both of we, either it moves out or I do.

What a difference the night makes, Im just back in from an hour and 20 mins of night walking (no streetlights, no orange sky-glow, just blackness): along the river to the lock and back on the otherside, Now all the colours are extra vibrant, I am more relaxed, both in body and mind. The first half hour was accompanied by Gilles Peterson's show from last night, on MD. The rest of the march was dark in sound and vision, the battery gave its last juice and slid into forever sleep. A shame in some ways because this week's show is especially excellent - brownswood basement, digging in the crates. But not in others, the silence gave me time to concentrate my thoughts and just absorb the night.

Now I have the munchies, the extrastrong coffee is still buzzing around my blood, crackers and cheese?