On the train on the way back from Wakefield last night I found a key in an ashtray. No keyring or anything, just a single key on it's own amoungst the Silk Cut stubs. I'm pretty sure it was abandoned intentionally. Its one of those ones that arn't like Yale keys - the long ones. It looks quite old and the "key" bit at the end is like the shadow of a castle turret. I don't really know why but I'm utterly fascinated by keys. when I was younger I used to have a small collection of found and discarded keys I kept in a money bag, along with a minature padlock I'd rescued from somewhere. I have no idea where they are now. Although I do think about it sometimes. There's a lot of symbolism inherant in keys. A means of access, a secutity device, a way into secrets.... Redundant keys even more so becuase their usfulness is reduced to simply being something that feels good in your hand or pocket, but still (if you're me) something it's really hard to part with. I have old keys on my keyring which are no use anymore but if I remove them it'll upset a balance somewhere and I'll feel slightly odd. Like the feeling of suddenly having a really severe haircut, if you can see where I'm coming from. Sorry these are things that occupy a lot of braintime which would probably be better employed elsewhere. Hmmm. With the recent depression / artistic genius thread I thought I'd throw a metaphorical oar in. Has anyone read Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel? Essentialy an autobiography documenting a lifetime of depression. Don't want to upset anyone (each to their own) but I really hated it. Perhaps it was theraputic to the author, and I honestly sympathise with anyone suffering from mental disorders (dunno a PC term) of this kind, but really, can anyone enjoy and/or take away something worthwhile from 300 odd pages of what reads like teenage angst? I find a lack of any real emotion in those pages which differentiates it (and this is my point) from people like Ian Curtis, Nick Drake etc. where there is always a real note of optomism, or at least a fight against the oppression and the bad. Ditto for Kesey, Burroughs, Radiohead, Kundera, The Cure and so on. Deep depression is never sexy, it's the fight against it that inspires admiration and maintains my faith in people generally. Please though, I'm really not trying to be infmlamitory. I honestly hope I havn't offended anyone. If I have, mail me and we can talk it out. I worry about my clarity of expression and people taking things the wrong way, easpecially in such an impersonal medium. Incidently, for my top tip on an exellent novel dealing with depression - The Trick is to Keep Breathing, By Janice Galloway. Fiction by classification only. Er..That's it, I think. Believe it or not, it's taken the whole of IYFS and three cans of stella for me to write this. Cripes, and still loads of spelling misstakes. My apologies. Tara. Kev (alias shambles, alias invisible boy, alias biscuit, alias someone-else, alias me) ---- http://www.lost-cat.org.uk/ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the undead 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 +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+