Meh, I'm not going to have internet at home for at least another week... And then I still have to hook up the wireless router myself. (and Ted knows how that went at home) I really would rather write this at night... not when I have to be somewhere in -5 minutes, as is usually the case.. and I make typos that I correct a week later after they have been read by everyone who will ever read them.

A blog is kind of a strange thing... It's sort of an account of what I do, useful as a record for myself. (then again, I didn't note that I went to: Wigmore Hall

Chamber Contrasts: Borodin and Tchaikovsky



Soloists of the London Philharmonic Orchestra

Borodin String Quartet No.2 in D
Tchaikovsky Piano Trio in A minor, Op.50

on Monday night)

It is also party a self-indulgent purging of frustrations and emotion. I vomit forth anxiety into the internet. But it's not totally honest either... because I AM selective in what I write, as I am assured that SOME people read it. So I am recording my subjective perspective through the lens of my subjective perspective of how I want people to perceive me. Maybe it would be a bit more valuable if it were a bit more honest... and wrote for example about my feelings for...

It is a grasp at the hope that some of my thoughts are worthwhile and that someone else might find them elucidating or at least entertaining. I have a whole essay prepared on why Bertrand Russell was a cunt.

....all this it is, but it can easy be justified, in my case at least, as a travelogue that allows me to communicate with all my friends. I mean that IS why I write it.