I started to write something about how I've been feeling today, about a friend of mine that I haven't seen for a while who's in hospital, about what a bizarre day I've had, about people who sap the lifeforce out of you, about good intentions and misunderstandings, about what it's like once you step past that first threshold and realise you'll never be able to find your way back, no matter what...but then it dawned on me that wasn't going to do anyone any good, let alone me. So instead, here's an ink polaroid. My friend is lying on his hospital bed. He's in his regular clothes, denim mostly, no need for a hospital gown for this guy. He's looking pretty good. The eye patch suits him. He says if this is as bad as it gets then he'll be happy. it's not like he has a job that relies on his eyesight, I joke. We all laugh (his friend, an actor I think, has come to visit at the same time). Ah, he only needs one eye for what he does, my friend says. There are two more operations to go. The first one was a big success, so he's feeling optimistic. But he can't help think about what they say - there's five per cent chance. Still, there's a bigger risk when you have a caesarian. You don't want to get one of those, his mates says. We all laugh again. Loads of people have been round. The people he sees all the time. His day to day friends. That's cool. I don't feel that bad about finding out a week too late. Friendship is like that - you don't have to keep in constant contact to be a good friend. It's about being there when it counts. I turned off my computer as soon as I got the email and left the house. Went straight to the cafe. A man's got to eat. Then had a haircut. Then went to the HMS Belfast. Told you I had a strange day. Then to St Catherine's Dock, talking to my ex on my mobile. Then to the hospital. In the same square as The Italian Hospital. Nice front. Then into the ward. It's been a bit embarrassing really. The other day he had so many visitors they went down to the coffee lounge on the ground floor. Then to the park out front. Ended up in the pub. Like you always do with this lot. My friend had a coca cola, everyone else had a proper drink, lager, wine, whatever, It was like a big night out. They went for pizza afterwards. Must have been a place not too far away. It was fun - crazy really when you think about it. Eventually my friend had to go back to his hospital bed. Visiting hours were over. Everyone else just carried on drinking. And it occurs to me that this is a fine way to behave. I don't know why I feel the need to write this other than to say what you already know. Friendships are important. Friends doubly so. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+