A Word of Thanks

It's a curious thing writing to the ominous. You know, writing out thoughts and whatnot, being made available to whoever might come upon them. Now I know there aren't any strangers creeping around the Internet, looking in on my goings on, but if there are, welcome. I've always enjoyed writing, as I have kept a private journal since I was 14 or 15, or something like that., but that has remained private for the most part. Occasionally i've sent a piece off to someone, but that doesn't occur often. Apart from university papers, exams, etc., I have not written for any other audience. I once received 75% on a paper, and the prof had listed a few criticisms. When I inquired about this paper she told me how to correct it, and that I would get an A if I fixed a few things. That was great, but the thing that stands out in my mind is initial statement. She said, "Well, for starters you write well...." and nothing after that meant anything to me so I don't know what she said. I enjoyed this complement, the way you enjoy when someone tells you your food tastes good, or your house is nice, or you sing well. I enjoy writing, and I wish I could make a living off of it. I know I'm not that good, but I'll try to come up with something during this time I have, just north of London. I hope to write a book between now and Christmas, with all the time I have to play with. Sure right now as I type out everything I wrote a week ago, my client is sleep here in the room beside me, not very demanding this one. I know that if I write a book or two, even if its rubbish, I'll have something physical to look back on and remind me of this time. We humans do love the physical. That's why we take pictures everywhere we go, so we have something to look back on, especially when our memory begins to fail us, or I'm not around to remind you of how it all went down. Any trigger happy photographer want to challenge this? I'm writing now in a journal because it is September 8th and I do not have a laptop yet. This is a significant time because when you are without technology you think differently. For the most part technology is a whole lot of noise, or at least is holds a structurally unsound ball of potential in its hand; no in its clutches. Yeah, in its clutches. Pete L got me using the word "noise" a lot, in reference to the distractions we tend to pile into our skulls. I like to reference different people in my blog, so if you notice your name pop up it means I think you're alright, and if it hasn't made an appearance by now, I think you're rubbish. Just trickin. I started some video blogging, but I ran out of tape my first week here, and I've yet to purchase another. It's easy to justify a purchase here because all you have to do is think about how much your last train ticket cost. SOrry for the jump to something completely different but I was putting my client to bed and now I'm all off track. For anyone who ever wondered what couscous is, it's just like cream of wheat; and if you don't know what cream of wheat is, I would say it's pretty much like couscous, but that's too predictable and cliche. Oh yes, I know what I was going to say! I was thinking about everyone who has replied to tell me what they are up to and that they've been reading. I thought about the diversity of this grow and I just wonder how I am received by all of you. For some it might just be like any conversation you would have with me, while for others this might not sound like the David you know, or perhaps you've never heard me say so many words. Sometimes I wonder if I dream too big or too little, not in the nocturnal sense, but in terms of my ambition. This is where I trail off and probably went to bed. In conclusion I would like to say, I've had a nice time, hope you did too. Fin