Sinister: you'll never know what I'm thinking of

[s.santabarbara at xxx.uk]

My Dear Sinisters and Sinistrines

	I have been travelling a lot recently. That was one of the things I really used
to enjoy about the work I do, forget the awful number of pencil I chew, the
chalk dust on dark jumpers and people who think they do understand what they
do, but actually do not, as long as sometimes I am part of that, at least I can
travel and see new places and meet new people, I though. To be honest, that was
the only reason why I don’t entirely regret in having spent three years doing a
Ph.D. is that I managed at the end to escape from my home country as settle at
least for a few years in England, where my life has been, for some spell at
least, better then it has ever been. And still managed to travel around Europe
doing some obscure experiment of rather dubious utility to put on masquerade or
an excuse for a holiday. It seemed a nice plan
 until I didn’t really want to
travel anymore and really had to go here and there to finish, or try to finish,
what I had allegedly started. And when I could stop that spinning around, more
than Kylie, or 10 downing street does, was quite to late to enjoy the staying:
it is always a matter of timing.
However, thing sometimes don’t come to end and have been rose to a higher
excitonically delocalised state again, generally dominated by exchange
interaction. Or lack of exchange interaction, mhmhmh
those transition aren’t in
principle allowed, but mixture of wavefunctions can occur, then that’s allowed.


	Also to keep some sort of consistency, I couldn’t have choose any better
country that those in which I couldn’t understand a world on the local
language, i.e. French, in the last couple of months and German next one, if
I’ll live again I will buy one of those whatever language in three weeks, and
by then I hope they would be good enough to ensure one could buy the things he
actually wants from the shop or ask things to people on the way, in a language
they can understand. I was actually a bit surprised that in Quebec French is
greatly dominating over English as the common language
 being the ignorant that
I am
 however I have seen some whales there, and that was  rewarding and met
some people from this very list that have been fantastic taking me around in
Quebec city and surroundings
 the English speaking borderline
 apparently there
is only an English enclave, New Carlisle, through which I just went on the bus
at something like 2 am or so, hence without no many chances to stop despite the
wishes to exchange a few word with someone and some remote sentimental
affection, but that’s another story. France was guys with gun machine, retina
scans and similar stuff in the suburbs of Paris. However at the local bar,
quite self-explanatorily called ‘the Christ’ had a quite fabulous dish, called
Chicoute, or something like that, involving any sort of sausage you can think
and some more, I didn’t had one (even if I would have been in principle
allowed) but I’m sure it would cure the hangover from hell with ease: gnammy.

	Back in the town where I live for the week end, I had a phone call at something
about seven o’clock on a Saturday, asking if I’d liked to join some sort of
‘friends’ birthday party. Actually I’ve never really seen this person that
frequently, but I remember I helped move her couch into her new flat about one
year ago, and should be the reward for the effort. In fact, I quite blessed the
call as the idea of spending another week end sheltered in my room, listening
to radio 5 and having not much more to do, wasn’t quite so appealing. Although
I’m quite safe in my room, there are plenty of dangerous object in the house. 
And I have almost explored the place inside out. I suppose that is what lonely
people do. However I do not know what people that are not lonely do, because I
have essentially never been one, but, I can see is definitely more fun,
otherwise everybody would opt for the loneliness options. Of course excluding
monks, but they have seen some sort of light, and bless them, can take my place
if they wish, but I won’t take their. So, generally I feel rather sinister at
week ends. Actually I generally don’t hate things or person, but I do hate week
ends
 let’s say that I don’t like them
 someone once tell me I should learn how
to hate people and things, probably she was right, although I still haven’t
learnt. Actually receiving a phone call was in itself an event, so I shouldn’t
miss the chance and, because of rail replacement work between here and there, I
take the bus, which we know if you do it for fun, is sad, but was because of
the underground, and that’s alright, I’m allowed.

	The party wasn’t really a party, actually when I arrived at the place, it was
substantially empty, not even the birthday lady there. After all, it looked
more or less as being in my room again, just, I had a bit of entertainment from
the public transport system. And in this place as in many other they have the
bad habit to sell alcohol, they are allowed. So I sat in the corner on a couch,
but not the one I helped to move, and have a couple of drinks in magnificent
company of myself and my evil twin who start arguing about the fact that the
boozes were expensive. In fact they were. Sometimes even the evil one is right.
The less scary one was complaining about me smoking too many fags instead, I
suppose he is right, but I’m allowed. So I decided not to listen to anyone and
have sever drinks and several more fags, which meant, I was quite perfectly
drunk when they finally arrived, almost three hours later, but they’re allowed
and I’m allowed as well.

Well, the music that was alright.

	Few hours later, after many more cigarettes and beers and without essentially
haven’t said a single word but the courtesy of hello, how are you doing and
fine thanks [if it were true],  when leaving the place walking on my way home,
somewhere in between Islington and Angel, or about there, I saw this lady,
sitting on the pavement, all on her own, broken in tears, next to a bus stop. I
just kept walking. Was feeling like going and ask if she were alright. Quite a
silly question, she obviously wasn’t. was feeling like going there and give the
person a big cuddle, but just walked by, as nothing was happening. Jus a few
yard away I start thing, why have I done that, and couldn’t find an answer, but
then it was just to close to my bus stop at 3 am to get all the way back and
she might have taken her bus home, or to anywhere, already. Still I don’t know
why I didn’t stop, but I fell like I have become what I despise. Am I allowed?



Take care
stefano
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