haonowshaokao

Am going around breaking the news that I’m going to everyone. Only one person left who doesn’t know now.
Been feeling vaguely down about it somehow, too. Life was very exciting here once. Or even a few times. Now I don’t do anything at all, and getting out of my situation is a long and laborious process. I could get some more work, but I really do need to sort out a lot of things in England. Who knows, maybe I’ll be back in Feburary even. I just want to get a few things that I need – a laptop, a video camera – and to start compiling my creative work, which is all in a gigantic mess right now.
It’s going to be a challenge getting a job in Brighton though. That’s what I think I’ll be doing.

Pretty broke today, and rent is due. Still, momentary problems pale in insignificance compared to the prospect of “going home,” even if it is only for six or seven months.
In the meantime, a lot of reading left today. This week has been Saul Bellow week. Why haven’t I read any before? Dense, thoughtful, well constructed, readable. Really accomplished writing. Also, in an entirely different vein, but equally good, Banana Yoshimoto.
I’m sorry if I’m a little dull right now. A plethora of local characters are returning in no time, so I’m sure the action will pick up soon.
Got to get home quick to see Amir Khan do his thing.

Against all my better judgement I have been getting heavily into boxing this week. What’s up with that?

After I was typing here last night I strolled over to Jiriho Z Podebrad to get the metro home. As I arrived it was already 10pm. I slunk to the deserted half of the platform, fortunately only 2 minutes remained until the train arrived.
As I took my seat a voice came over the intercom system, loud and angry. For a second I thought it might be for me, so I checked briefly that I wasn’t doing anything wrong, then glanced down at the other end of the platform. A guy was on the tracks, looking down the tunnel and climbing out reluctantly under instruction from a ununiformed but besuited man.
As he climbed out it occurred to me that his friend could still be down there, and the train had just a minute left to arrive. The guy, now on the platform, seemed happy, but drunk. I wasn’t sure whether something was going seriously wrong.
Then the sound began. The usual distant echoes that indicate imminent arrival, the gale-force gust of wind. This time they sounded and felt ominous. I put my hands over my ears, just in case. The horn is loud beyond belief. When the lights came and the train arrived I kept my eyes fixed on it. The driver saw me and laughed.
Of course, I’m glad that it was all in my imagination, but feel a little foolish, all the same.

A bland truism heard around the world states that there is a time for action. Well, if there ever was such a time, this is it.
I have told everyone for a good year now that I would leave Prague at the end of September 2004, a date that has remarkably stuck in my estimation the whole time, most unlike me. In short, I can’t stay here forever. I want to keep traveling while I’m (relatively) young, go to Thailand, Japan, Iceland, South America… I also want a decent computer, a video camera…. Earning enough money to survive, let alone buy things, is a major struggle here. I need to sort out all kinds of shit in the UK too.
So, the gist of my nub is this; I have to, at some point, go back to the land I don’t want to live in and get a job over the winter. There’s no other way. Or is there…? I can’t really live with my parents, too old to do that kind of shit now, value my independence. I can go to Southampton, but I hate the fucking place and have various government agencies after me there. I can go to Brighton, I have various friends there now, but it may be hard to get a job or a flat there. Or I can go to London, not sure if I have any friends there any more, but maybe.
So, what do you think?

I don’t guarantee any action on the results, by the way. So feel free to vote facetiously, if that rattles your cage.

There is no going out for me tonight, not if I can’t drink. I am also now desperately short of money. These and other reasons have led to me going round in a bit of a general grump today, despising strangers for existing, that sort of thing.
The olympics is on though. Deeply dull but I’m watching it anyway.
So fucking bored.

Feeling a little better today in terms of general wellness, though frustrated after half an hour of failing to get my user info section to work. There is no explanation for it except the supernatural. (update: or a spelling error. Oops.)
I’m surprised to be saying this, but the break in the weather we’re having right now is more than welcome. Yesterday even the breeze was hot. There may be a storm later, hopefully a dramatic one. Clouds have already begun to generally hove.
One more lesson to teach, one dose to take, one bowl of soup and then over to Jess’s place for a bit. All sounds better than shouting at a computer to me.

Today I’ve been looking at those little circular scars that everyone has on their arms, caused by the vaccination given to you when you’re 15 or so. I don’t have one because I lied and told them I’d had it already (maybe that’s why I’m so apt at catching a disease) hence they fascinate me and I’m going to make a book of photos of them. Nobody steal my idea.

I read the instructional leaflet inside my medicine. It said “Take one 500mg tablet every 8 hours. For extreme cases take one 1000mg tablet every 12 hours.” I have been prescribed one 1000mg tablet every 8 hours, some mistake maybe? I feel dizzy and I’m coming out in hives. All in the cause of getting well. Otherwise I feel fine. Though I could really do with a beer.
The pharmacist said “take one every 8 hours, with meals.” Now, I didn’t think too hard at the time but on the bus on the way back it occurred to me that I’d have to start eating meals at 8am, 4pm and 12am or else start going to bed at some ridiculous hour. Screw that.