Not all nuns will get into heaven

So I'm back on the Isle of Wight ... no wait s***e. Ha.
And I tell you what - when I get back here, I get all conservative and I just naturally invert to my tortoise shell and I become someone whom I barely recognise.

Like on the boat ride over the Solent I was listening to Man with a Movie Camera by the Cinematic Orchestra. And in my have power-nap state I was just making a film in my head. Like the track entitled Dawn...just paints to many pictures...I was just seeing a Snowman-esque scene...starts off in normal camer footage of a young adult male and female in a field with waist height grasses blowing in the wind...and the couple lying at the top of a hill in the grass just laughing. The guy has placed a broken piece of the grass in his mouth in an attempt to immasculate himself - to say - 'out here I'm a real man'.

The next track...I dunno...like the scene turns into animation...like the scrappy animation of the Snowman...you know the 'walking on the air malarky'. And Its a dark starry night and the boy and girl are dancing in the grass...just...like...they're expression of their love is more than any words can say...this is a dance that can't be described by words...the animation is the only thing that does it justice...the rough edges the untimely frames...in undignified but more beautiful than you could ever imagine. And this goes on for hours. Tirelessly the couple express, display and perspire throughout the evening beneath the blurrly stars. It's a beautiful scene...if only you could see it.

Then there's the walk home...but that's for another day.

Looks can be decieving.

Confidence is a barrier. Smiles hide broken hearts. Scars tell a thousand tales. Feet walk a thousand miles.
Bibles are read countless times but still we can't make head nor tail of it.

Maybe this philosophers hat doesn;t suit me...but for now...I like it.

Je suis creative.

Bon.