And that sick dread that comes before the ignominious return is upon me.
Did that sound pretentious enough? I don’t want to go. I mean I do obviously, in that I want to see everyone…only, I don’t want to go back. I want to stay in Japan.
I don’t want to return. I want to go somewhere else, be here, travel on….not travel back.
I’m not sure what I mean I guess, only that it seems like I am sinking back into something I left. Pagan Soc on Monday, Writers Guild on Tuesday, are you going to LURPS Mish? Are you going to the barcrawl?
Step up to the rotation plate. Spin around again and don’t escape.
It’s not that I don’t want to. I do want to see everyone, I want to see Lancaster and Mum and Dad etc.etc. But…I’m going backwards and that I don’t like.
I’m suddenly aware that I’m going to be going back to Lancaster a great deal. The joy of returning back to the Jellicle Cat and my gentleman friend is always going to be acompanied by the sigh of going back, returning to a past. I don’t know what I mean exactly. I don’t want to be landing in Heathrow, I don’t want to be on Larkin’s railtrack going home and I don’t want to have a drink in The Bobbin.
Except I do as well. The fact that it has changed makes things a little better I think. Perhaps.