Psychic sacrifice

I tried to stay up and work last night but succumbed to sleep at 4 a.m. The day taken up with tutorials and spending money. I went round to Maynard Gardens to meet Lee but he was out, so I wandered around the record shops, bought Thee Psychick Sacrifice by Throbbing Gristle and went to a housing agency with Guy. When I called back at Maynard Gardens Lee was there; he showed me a four-minute film he’s made with his Yashica 8-E of the Moulin Rouge on TV and footage of the wobbling handlebars and pedals shot while riding his bike.

In the evening he and I met Juliet and Guy and had a drink with them and Barry in the Red Deer. Lindsey turned up later, and I must admit I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I wonder what Del told her?

I came back to Jervis Terrace and the damp air and cold chaos of the flat almost makes me regret it. John and Del have gone, the former to London, D. to Milton Keynes.

The zone

I handed in my essay, written up and altered and discovered that only one person had done the reading for Black Americans anyway. I bought Throbbing Gristle’s Second Annual Report at the mini-market (first side played backwards) and afterwards I met Lindsey and Susie in the library coffee bar.

We met up with Barry and Guy and went to the Cellar for something to eat, and then L., S. and I went into Watermouth; we had to make an effort. Lindsey and I ended up at Dizzy’s, a disco at The Zone—½ price drinks until eleven thirty—and we met Alex who was acting as doorman. Ian and Mick were inside too.

Ian came across to talk to us for a few minutes; he and Lee are holding a performance in the crypt of a demolished church near Blenheim Place a fortnight today. I was supposed to go with aforementioned to said crypt at one, but I didn’t get up until half-past.

After a couple of pretty uninspired hours at the disco L. and I left and I walked the mile or so home.