(diaryland) July 7, 2001 - 1:52 p.m.

I was breaking chocolate, and one of my fingernails got destroyed in the process. It got bent right back and blood squirted out everywhere. That was twenty minutes ago. It seems OK now, though. So it wasn't really destroyed.

OK, yes, time for more weighty things.

I have learned much, much more this year, working, that I did in all the time I was at university. I've actually learned how to be an architect this year, instead of what I usually did, which was to draw a picture of a building on a crumpled piece of paper the day something was due and hope to god to pass. I like, know how to design buildings and stuff now. But wait: there's more.

I've also had time to read books about things. Last year, I would have to read things for university about the 'architectural spirit' of obscure English villages or something. This year, I'm reading novels, poetry, and, uh, other stuff.

This isn't working out very well. I thought I'd have more monumental things to say. But not really. I've just learned stuff, OK? OK? Geez.

I'm going back to uni next year.

Here is a poem that seemed all good at the time. I misused a phrase several times. Don't get angry with me. get even.

i keep thinking about the fun.
last night�s ashes came from candles.
every mot was a bon mot wasn�t it �
even bon. even mot. mot bon. even even. bon mot.
i could have zoomed in on everyone�s forehead, speaking simple
bon mots of hey i can see your forehead really close
forehead was, of course, particularly
you guessed it bon mot.
and fun tears were sugar.
and the fog outside was.
simply fog.
good enough.
and some (n.b. very bon mot) fog,
having come inside in the form of smoke,
swirled adjustable bon mots
on candles, me & the others.
boiled meows.
having,
lost a friend.