h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Another hot day. Nothing much to report.

Well there is plenty to report actually. Ever since getting back from her time at her home, S has been consciously passive-aggressive nasty with me. Little digs, little pess-takes, and now she wants to get between S and me, the preferred method being detaining the girl in her room and trimphantly coming to me in my den and crowing over the fact that she has prevented my girlfriend from spending the evening with me. It's 14 year old behaviour, I had to put up with it from my brother when I was a kid, and I am sick and tired of it. If only her friends at the radio station knew just what kind of a bitch they are dealing with. But they appear to have no discernment to be able to tell the difference between an enemy agent and a child of God. I am a pariah because I seek relief from my mind, but they'll welcome a daughter of Ba'alzvov and let her shet all over their listeners. It's a joke; I've washed my hands of that lot now. Let them get on with it. I don't listen any more; I'm consigning that whole crowd to my past and moving on. exspecto diem magna cum anticipatione qua exibit illa strega e domo meo.

This is ridiculous. The atmosphere in my flat has changed for the worse, because Sethu said she'd come today, and Vitch said "I look forward to seeing her", which was a taunt, because last night she hijacked Sethu, who is too young to stand up for herself and do what she wants to do, preventing her from spending the evening with me. Which is what I assume she came here for. And Vitch came triumphantly into my den and crowed over the fact that she had spoilt my evening. And she has the brass neck to pretend to the faith. Either the radio people are completely undiscerning, or they don't care who they let on the radio. We know it isn't the latter since La van N. wrote to me basically saying I wasn't welcome any more. So the first option must apply. What a joke.

Billocks to it. Ich bin fast bereit, um ihr zu sagen, sie solle heute Abend nicht kommen. Ich hab' wirklich genug von dieser jungen Hexe gehabt. Sie muss aus meinem Leben und meiner Wohnung abhauen. Ich bin wuetend mit der Zambia-Frau, die den beschissenen Stueck Dreck in mein Leben hineingefuehrt hat. So wuetend, daB ich mit ihr nichts mehr zu tun haben will. And all the while, butter wouldn't melt.

Sometimes you just have to take the initiative. I put Sethu off coming tonight. I'm fed up with having to fight with the Vitch every time something good happens in my life. Just sick of it.

I think I must have had my accident on 20th November, although I have to wait for my cellphone before I can ascertain for sure.

No it must have been the 18th November because I have an email on 19th early about the accident. I shall only know for sure when my Blackberry is back, but I hope it has kept a record of all my calls or I'm stuffed. I can't remember whom I called at the time.

It happened on the day I left Upington so I can phone the Protea hotel in Upington and ask them for the dates of my stay. I'll do that tomorrow morning. Bit late now.

I need to get my PO Box renewed as well. I hope it's not too late to do that. Because I've got that PO Box number on a LOT of books.

It's a nice night. I'm planning another piece. Cello and piano. Serial like my previous piece the Theme and Variations. I've got the row. Even if I only input the row that'll be a start. I wish I didn't have to rely on random inspiration in order to compose. I don't know why that is. But it is. I cannot compose a note of music until the music is inside me bursting to come out. Otherwise I simple cannot compose a note, not a single note. I can write at will, but I cannot compose at will. I need the music to be inside me before I can bring it out.

I started on a piece but I'm not sure about it. I may have to start again. I think of a cello line with a simple chordal accompaniment like the harmonisation of a hymn tune, in complex rhythms. Atonal.

It's so sad how people will pounce on a word or action of a public figure and complacently, blithely pronounce them guilty of one of today ismic taboos. Latest one, Cameron is apparently "sexist". Oh yawn. That's so yesterday.