(diaryland) May 04, 2005 - 2:35 p.m.

In the one-and-a-half years that I have spent studying the piano, king of instruments, at the conservatorium, I think I have seen seven hundred percent more arsecracks than I ever saw in the whole of my six or seven years in the building industry. Making it worse, in class, we have to often sit there with the arsecracks directly facing us. And people wear a lot of low pants these days.

If you are going to sit at the piano, please hoist up your pants. I almost always do.

Well, anyway, Roland and I got a fish. He is named Jesus Fernandez. That is 'Jesus' prounounced the Spanish way, with an H at the start. He is small and seems to hate us. He hides under rocks until he thinks we aren't looking and then he jumps out and swims properly. Maybe he thinks that we think he's like a toy that only comes alive at midnight, after we're asleep.

Yesterday, I put my face up to the tank and I saw his little frightened eye, following me around to see what I would do next. I didn't do much, except I used some bad language. I figured he doesn't understand speech, or even noise, probably, but he looked disgusted at me anyway.

He hates me.