I Think I'm going crazy. I get weird Morrissey signals.
First I'm on the bus and I listen to the radio and hear Muse singing about "people who care if I live or die".
Then I come home, open the new issue of New Scientist and read and article "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by Google" by Bruce Sterling from Austin, Texas:
Debbie: why do you access me, when you know that makes things hard for me? Why do you tag and link to me? Why do you telephone? And why, why, why do you write me silly notes on paper? I'm so sick of you, Debbie. Why, why do you hack me? It's just to see the things that you know I am writing about you...
I've been thinking about risking it all and going to Germany in December ... I've spent 60% of the day checking the connections and tickets and hotels and my bank account and even asked if I'm eligible for a small loan (??).
My bf and I had a long chat about Morrissey-me-Germany-December and he managed to persuade me not to go into any more debt over it.
Ever since then I've mostly been sad and thinking about how sad I am and yes, right now is no exception. I feel like this