scribbles
I'm living near St Katherine's Docks, near the river Thames and Tower Bridge. I like looking across the river towards Butlers Wharf, the LSE Hall of Residence. For some strange reason, I find it compelling... looking across the river. The river that divides the 2 sides of the bank, a gulf that separates me from Butlers Wharf. And I feel the strangest longing and yearning towards it. Which is really strange, cos I don't have any good friends there. But I guess it's just whole act of looking across the river, a chasm.
I'm not being the least bit logical. My brain is kind of fried.
Went jogging with Silke and Nitya (just met her today. Silke's flatmate who just moved in today). They jogged to my place, then I jogged back with them. Chatted a bit. Then met up with Nishit and went jogging him as well. Talked a bit. Brought him to see the house, sent him off. Stood on the bridge looking at the river, and across the river to Butlers Wharf. Walked cross the bridge towards Butlers Wharf. Was bored, depressed, kinda lost. Called Silke. Didn't pick up my call. Thought abt whether to call Patrick. 10.30pm. So what if I call him? Kinda late to meet up anywhere other than in Tower Hill area. Decided I was bored enough. Nothing to lose. Might as well 'repay' his call. Will just say I'm bored. Just need something to neutralise my mood. The vodafone you called might be switched off. What to do? I see the lighted windows of Butlers Wharf. To return to my empty black house or to wander the streets of London at night? 10.38pm. Call Patrick again. Maybe he was in tube? The vodafone... Phone rings. Who could it be? Nishit asking whether I've reached home? Silke: you called just now? Yeah, I'm bored what are you doing? Just called to ask. Talked to Nitya, am going to write letter now. What about you? Am on the bridge, being bored. Was just wondeirng what you were doing. You want to come up? Nevermind since you're writing letters. Don't want to disturb you. No, I'm bored anyway. Am split between not wanting to disturb her and facing my house and the yawning abyss of my depression alone. Oh okay, I'll drop by then! We sit and listen to songs. She plays different songs for me. She has a whole range of songs... from Eminem, to Israeli, Arabic, Hindi, Bhangra songs. French, German (from different eras), classical music composed by German and Italian composers. Belly-dancing songs... national anthems of Germany and Israel. Very eclectic taste. Am amazed by her. So knackered. Abt to fall asleep on my feet and just slump there. Get up and go home. Shower.Am home now. Trying to download some of her songs> can't seem to get them. Try to download more French songs, with limited success.
...says i on Sunday, July 6, 2003 at 12:32 a.m.