Sober

Dear Diary,

Craziness: conscience. All shrinks are nuts, this much we know. I am listening to the Herman Rojak, or "Clix" as he was nick-named (ink-blot). Klexography, poetic composition based on ink-blots. This is fascinating stuff. I have such a strong aversion to psychologists, shrinks, from a recent bad-experience from a master mind-game player. Falsity abhors me, so very much. Sue too has been burned by a mind-game player. Not nice.

Even so, I must wake up, and not just assume that anyone who wants more understanding of the mind is not simply a wish to control people. Obviously this is true in the vast majority of cases (such as control freaks) but in the case of Herman Rojak, he was wanting to discern whether people will make good citizens, parents, et cetera. The Functional Magnetic Resonance test works well with the Rojak test. Emotion. Neurology. All terribly interesting.

This morning on the today program their was a good discussion regarding foreign languages. I am so proud that I speak another language. What we here in the United Kingdom of Great Britain are missing out on in 'the international mindset'. Sue and I spoke of it yesterday. How it takes a couple of days to re-adjust before and after landing on foreign soil. How the mind actually transforms so that we think like a frog. Anarchy. Instead of thinking in English (rosbif) and then translating the words individually, one actually thinks in frog, and speaks like ribbits. Socio-linguistic anthropology is amateurish when compared to speaking, reading and writing foreign languages. It was proven some months back that speaking another language means ones brain cells are increased in stimuli exponentially, much like playing a musical instrument. Sue is one of two other people I know in this town who speaks another language. That's out of about forty thousand people...

I awoke this morning to the sound of banging, drilling, pumping (the wrong sort) and now this racket soundeth in mine ears. The glorious morning upright manhood standing to attention had nothing to do except droop and remain limp. I transmogrify temptation and turn it into my continued studies. Rather than finish the job of tidying up this morning, I am concentration on paperwork. Tying up the essay (editing, excellent) and completing financial application. I am also sorting out the visit up-north. Rock 'n Roll!

Maximus Fleximus.

Post-Script: I have given up smoking. I had the means to get either that or drink and hath resisted. This is good.

Post Post-Script: J'sait vous lire ma journal intime mon ami, j'kif vous, beaucoup! Bisous ma cher!