Slipping by

I rang Kent up to tell them I couldn’t make it for a visit and no, I didn’t want to rearrange it. I sat about reading January’s National Geographic before persuading Dad to run me into Easterby at twelve, ostensibly to go to the library but really to go buy a reggae compilation LP I saw at HMV on Saturday.

I took Mr. Giles’s reading list and got four books out: Kerouac’s Visions of Cody, Nathaniel West (Collected Works), Henry Miller (Tropic of Capricorn) and Tennessee Williams. The album was gone and I felt at a loss so I went home. The weather was sunny and windy.

I got into school just after two. Deborah and Duncan, the Big Two, sat apart. Pride refuses to let me make the first move and she won’t so. . . . It’s so bloody stupid! When she went home I felt cheated: I won’t see her now until next Tuesday . . . time’s slipping by. I went to Mrs. Slicer’s “getting to know you” group communication session which was wooden, everyone embarrassed.

Pop Art ‘till six and then the long weekend. In the early hours I finished the (sad) Desolation Angels.