Well, a guy my own age at work told me to go home yesterday, and so here I am. Attempting to do something pretty whilst I could, I talked for three hours with him about the project, then drew a couple of sketches of the barmaid before the proprietor threw me out, fell asleep somewhere posh then got home and burst into tears, inconsoleable and uncontroleable. Perhaps I should visit the Saracen's Head after all. I talked with some steelworkers, too, who were on a trip up from Sunderland. One thinks that, at the end of the day, there will be something useful in all of this. I mean I'm patient: I choose life, etc., but the world is so annoyingly intolerant of my desires of domination over my own wee patch of it. I suppose I make the mistake of countering trivialities with a grate! big drama but it just amazes me how people can so quietly and sophisticatedly buckle down to this utterly absurd scenario of 'the way things are today'. To think that I worked *so hard* and so well on that job: gave it everything I have, for me to be told to go home on a technicality of breath. Alcohol, see, and I'm not sacked either: I'm welcome back today or Monday but I'm telling you all this I'm telling you all this because I want to demonstrate that a confident, showy bright guy who 'should know better' knows more than that and yet can still be reduced to a pathetic shrivel not in himself but for others simply dismissing. 'Your way of working is not our way of working.' Well what the hell is that? 'You might fantasise about the situation in Barcelona, but' I fantasise about everyone whose been looking at athena posters when there's an olive grove around, or even some haystacks. I'm not really making great claims for myself: I really just want to be left alone. What I really, really want, is to meet another person who is of the same sort as I am: not a nurse or a mother figure: not a sister or a brother: not a girl or a guy: just another person like me. I can't send this to the sinister mailing list, of course. It's indulgently personal, inappropriate and rather scary. So I won't or, will it connect somehow? The stock response to a declaration such as this is, I suppose, 'what do you want out of this? what are you getting at?' to which the answer is 'it's an irrelevant question'. That new B&S cover is wild. Very nouveux-old. As usual with their stuff it's full of rib-prodding.. religion? bah! I'll give you a tickle... Cleopatra? anyone? anyone? +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ 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 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+