December Days and X-rays.

You can't spell "west" without the E.S.T.

For the love of all things holy, I beseech you all to make sure our country goes back to the left at the next election. At a time when even the yanks - the YANKS, people - have seen the light and voted in a government from the left-wing, we Kiwis have bucked the trend of common-sense and taken the wrong exit. I'm not here to preach to you, but use your brains, you drones, 'cause if you don't, we're headed down a very bad road.

All polemic aside, I have decisions that need to be made - about moving out or sticking around where I am. I could cluck my tongue and mull on it, but I'm just not in the mood. Dearest diary, deal me the death-knell on this dwelling deal. I'll alliterate till the cows come home instead of confronting the real isses. Yeah, it's my forte, and I'm damn good at it. Keep your judgements inside your head - me and violence spar constantly.

Finding new friendships with people I already know. Maybe this writing thing has the power to unite believers in it? Maybe some people are just cool. I'm not one to speculate, ordinarily, but I figured it can't hurt, and my new linguistic-buddy will appreciate a shout-out. So hey there, estar. Keep on keepin' on, and we'll see where this thing takes us.

I want to breathe in some fresh new ideas; absorb them like osmosis through my skin. I want a set of intellectual-gills so that I can filter out the rocks and get to the diamonds. If I develop the patent, will y'all buy the product? Intellectual genius for a reasonable price. And I know how you consumers work, so it'll be stylish enough to buy it for your daughter at Christmas time. Daniel's and Danielle's alike will want one for 'emselves, and we'll all hail the joys of Capitalism till next Christmas rolls around and we realise we need a new trinket. The economy will recede and return like the tides, and our lives will sink or swim in conjunction with it. Don't that just take the cake, Jimbo? Our lives are subject to the whims of a man-made construct that doesn't actually exist. Well I'll be jiggered.

If you could be rich and miserable, or dirt-poor and happy, which would it be?