‘Four Letter Word’ – Kim Wilde
Today was far nicer than yesterday, and a lot of things seem to be looming large in my mind.
I ventured into Wisbech and purchased BABY FORD’s ‘CHIKKI CHIKKI AHH AHH’ 12-inch.
I then saw Dark Is Desire band-mate Dan Berry, who has unfortunately been fined £200 for drunk cycling and has had to sell his amplifier to cover the cost and give up the rental on the Tower rehearsal room. All of which means DARK IS DESIRE are finished.
Am I sad about this?
Well, I couldn’t really afford to be in the band, could I? And I did live without before I had it. So never mind.
In WOOLWORTHS I spied an old acquaintance, the waitress I found myself attracted to in ANDREW’S all that time ago: Lisa Oakwood. She is the image of beauty and, as I recall, used to put me in mind of a blonde Kate Bush. We saw each other in the same instant – though, for much of that instant, neither of us fully realised who the other was (she has a new bobbed hair-style). We then, simultaneously, double-took, then looked away, a glimmer of realisation on both our faces, I’m guessing. I looked up again, to instantly see her turning away from an attempt at waving ‘hello’ to me and walking off. I lost her in the shop and then felt quite sad. Deprived of something. Partially empty. Why?
In SMITHS, I purchased an issue of STARBURST, for the DOCTOR WHO feature. This went into a bag which contained a file and some paper, purchased from WOOLWORTHS.
In BACCHALLY’S, I spoke briefly to Natalia, but felt so nerve-wracked and uncomfortable. I’m lost for words now whenever we speak. My mind is full of conversation, but my tongue just disintegrates.
The girl who sold me the pens in POYSER’S is incredibly pretty and her long black hair is simply beauteous.
‘Them Heavy People’ – Kate Bush
Flash communicated. He is well and, like me, identifies strongly and strangely with 1985 + 1986 at the moment. Coinicidental. Flash and Ritcherd stroll on. I wish him the greatest of hopes for his time with Raquel. I hope it all works out.
Happiness and beauty must reign.
Is ‘she’ close? Is ‘she’ near me now?
Here’s a hope for truth in the new day.
Farewell, dear diary.
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Next time: ‘Imminent Apocalypse…’