Personally, I think life is only boring if you don't do enough thinking. Sure, there are the day-to-day activities which we may enjoy; and also those occasional things which are a matter of excitement, but perhaps some might return home ultimately feeling unfulfilled. 

It's a grand disposition to be able to maintain a reasonable amount of curiosity about things. One might take a walk, take everything in, and wonder how long all this has been there, what it will be like in the future, what is has been like in the past; perhaps judge whether the way things are is necessarily the way things you'd want them to be - and that's applying both to a personal view and a more generalised one. I always find those with strong conviction of beliefs are those who can actually talk about something confidently, and they tend to be less inhibited. 

Maybe society has become superficial, in some ways. All the commerciality of the high streets makes things so impersonal, and there's a lack of humanity.....well, in Colchester, perhaps. Alternative haunts - charity shops, indepedent stores like butcher's, for example, are the places where perhaps you might have an in-depth conversation outside of one's friends group. It might be worth knowing what you are buying, finding out the processes of production etc, so you realy feel you're holding something valuable in your hands, figuratively speaking.

I don't know whether I have made my point clear at all, or whether this will make anyone question further what we see around us. The pessimist in me reigns eternal.

Having got to town and dilly-daddled over which account I should put my money into, and after watching Clark drink coffee, it was time to head to Luke's.

The wonderful advantages of Luke not being in. Well, it extends to the use of his computer and the mooching of his bread, so Clark and I were quite happy. 

It was a peaceful two hours, then Clark and I borrowed some bikes to meet his Dad to collect a camera. All ran smoothly. Until we got down Gladwin Road, our eventual return destination. Upon trying to stand up on the bike, it caused a minor earthquake when I fell to the ground with a thud. My ligament feels nasty at the moment, the bastards should never have been invented.

Such calamity was amply made up for in the miming to songs, which shall be on youtube in due course. Look for the user SlientWhisper.

I really ought to get to bed earlier. Last night I think I eventually drifted off at 4 in the morning, though this was after watching an excellent film, Dead Man's Shoes. It's a thriller without all the glamour. It was bloody gritty and brutal, with some fantastic performances from Paddy Considine and Toby Kebbell, who I was surprised to find out had played Rob Gretton, Joy Division's manager, in the film Control.

Still, I did manage to get up around 12.30pm today, which isn't altogether bad. I reckon after lunch I should really start ringing around about jobs, the paper delivering for the road round the corner would be most convenient plus I already know the route, but perhaps I should just predict a strong rebuff from the advertiser.

And then I have to meet a friend in town at 3, which I don't mind, it's just a tad boring having to watch him eat a jacket potato.