Tuesday, 31st May 2005
Dear Anonymous Benefactor
Before you I was floundering in the mud. I was like some prototype human-fish hybrid, wriggling without arms and only one leg in pools of stinking, treacherous mud. Mouth barely able to find space enough for air, before the stinking mess would come rolling back into the space only food and hydration should have known.
And then came you.
You, like some lightning bolt of utter wonderfulness, came and struck my leg, splitting it in two. You, you white bolt of light, struck twice more at my sides and thus two arms were born. You my absolute friggin saviour whose name I shall carve out upon my skin, kissing it daily at dawn, (unless of course that is too Greek frattish for you, and then I’ll settle for the mere branding of your likeness upon my shin), caused me to become human once more. Hark! Look as the Arch Angel Tankula arises from the mud, walking on unsteady and newly formed legs, flapping her arms because she’s always testing her luck, look as she walks on out of Shitesmear because of your generosity and brilliance.
Oh Anonymous Benefactor, who is only anonymous because I think you’d prefer it that way, but should you differ, I shall not hesitate to buy a pack of doilies and cut your name into them, stringing them like bunting around my room. Oh Anonymous Benefactor, I have not seen you now for many months and I can still count on you to bail me out when I make stupid decisions that leave me fucked financially. Oh Anonymous Benefactor - you’re my fiscal hero and I can never thank you enough.
Placing faith in my memories and acting the optimist, I have made 3 appointments to see three houses tomorrow. One of them is mine, I can feel it in my bones and it is mine because I have some of the best friends alive. Thank you Anonymous Benefactor from the bottom of my cavernous and no longer miserable heart. I owe you 5 thousand.
Sunday, 29th May 2005
Kinda like a silver lining, right?
Have you ever obsessively checked your email, over and over, as many times a minute as your mail server will allow?
That’s been me today. In between reading snatches of Amin Maalouf’s The Crusades Through Arab Eyes, (very good by the way, as was his Samarkand), I have been checking and rechecking and rechecking to see if a certain person has replied to a certain email, and what it is that they might say.
It’s all been to no avail so far, but I’ll keep checking, keep checking…
It’s raining and making small thunderclaps now; Hamish started barking at nothing. I went to the window and looked out only to find a huge rainbow spanning the sky. Maybe they are going to write me back soon and maybe they are going to say yes and then things will change again and I won’t be so sad anymore.