‘On Your Shore’ – Enya
Last night, I dreamt that when I finally got round to playing my ASF LP and it was scratched and broken.
Well, when I put it on today, even though the labels are correct it’s completely the wrong record, by a completely different band! It’s like some sort of, I dunno, African jazz (?) record. God! It’s pissed me off! Anyway, I won’t go on about it.
‘Chung Kuo’ – Vangelis
When I reach the height of fame and I’m being researched for some biography or other, someone is bound to bring up the many and varied questions that surround that enigma, Miranda Wasp. It might well be said that I carried a constant torch of love for her, that I would allow myself to feel hurt over her and go on great crusades in pursuit of her affection. Though I’m not sure ‘hurt’ is the correct term. Let me get this into some perspective. What I miss about Miranda when we’re apart is the great emotional explosions I feel inside when we’re ‘together’. I crave a ‘fix’ of Miranda. I enjoy it. And, yes, I do love her. But I guess that in recent years she must have seemed to be a weakness in the chain of my life. Not that I believe she is. I just love the intensity of love, the exhilaration and perceptivity she can draw from me. And yes, again, I do love her.
Miranda is good for me and bad for me in the same breath. What matters is that I’m getting a kick out of this. It gives me life. But I do love her.
I know now that she’s not my ultimate female or anything like that (but I’m speaking in the context of a whole life as yet unlived). So far, she has been close to my ultimate, but in the end I’m hoping there will be some greater other beyond this.
I need a creative girl – a girl who initiates her own personal art. Like I do. I’ve never met a girl like that.
If things go extremely well for Miranda and me in Portsmouth next week, I shall be very happy.
‘Goodnight, Saigon’ – Billy Joel
I had two phone calls today. One from Darren Marsh (who’s surviving and is still very friendly), and one from Peter Conti (whom I still like a lot).
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Next time: ‘Self-pitying drivel…’