ill-gotten gains

alrighty, so despite the strange windy mugginess of this strange and windy and muggy thursday i went into stirling today accompanied by nan shepherd if anyone's interested and i spent the cash that abc paid me for my wee poem in issue five of the mag and of course i fretted all the way into town on the bus, biting my lip, rubbing my chin, crossing and uncrossing my legs, which is no mean feat since i was standing at the time, pondering words and commodity, whether the whole of our sordid, clumpy and frumpy little lives are commodity, and if so then what of it, and whether i really ought to paint in big life-of-brian-size letters on the toilet walls in the thistle shopping centre "defy all greedy capitalist shopkeepers" but i realised that i was on my lunchbreak and i didn't strictly have time for a crisis of existence and the obligatory search for meaning, so opted for hastily procuring a sarnie out of marks and spencer, 'the rough guide to europe' and r.e.m.'s 'reveal'.

sofankyewverymuchabc :)