Wednesday 26th November 2008 (p4359)

Apparent thoughts of Christmas here (see drawings). When I was young I would draw endless trees and stars and hollies on cards and wherever I could, at Christmas.

Tuesday 25th November 2008 (pp4352-8)

The pages are also thin and you can see the writing on the other side, but there is a satisfaction in coming closer than normal to destroying and saturating the page material, feeling it crumple.

Sunday 23rd-24th November 2008 (no pages written)

Now with the internet and Facebook it will be easy to look back on your life and see what you were doing every day. And twitter, because you will be writing down all the little things you are doing. But no one does it for posterity, they do it for conversation. People narrate their lives to each other to mark the passing time, to continually place themselves in the timestream, in the flowing present, continually recontextualising themselves. Writing a diary is a similar process but is more concerned with the past and the future.

Saturday 22nd November 2008 (pp4349-51)

Sex! Here there is some sex in the story, a description of the sexual act in all its awkwardness and ecstasy. 

Friday 21st November 2008 (no pages written)

New notebook and I swore this would be a new start. It's a flimsy notebook where all before have been hardback. In hindsight this was a bad sign, surely? Perhaps I thought it didn't matter what the notebook is like, that you can write masterpieces on the back of receipts.

Thursday 20th November 2008 (p4348)

There was a reverend in America in the sixties who kept a diary for years in which he wrote down everything he did, including trips to the toilet. I wonder if it stopped him sinning, stopped him masturbating for instance, because he knew he would have to write it down if he did, or maybe he lied to himself and thought 'I'll just do this, but I won't write it down.' What would your relationship with the everpresent diary be? Would it be a tool of self-improvement or a limiting factor because you are always aware that will be judged for what you do you? And then is it just a God symbol?

Wednesday 19th November 2008 (pp4328-47)

Quite an awful lot written today. An end of notebook burst of productivity. Also see my ardent attempts at learning Icelandic Grammar, with the Spirited Away type friendly monster overlooking. I tried to say 'you are very beautiful' to her in Icelandic but she had no idea what I was saying, or she pretending she didn't. 

This was Dad's birthday. I wonder if I sent anything. I have my suspicions there was a time when I neglected to send any birthday things for a while.

Tuesday 18th November 2008 (pp4326-7)

The 18th of November 2013 is more than a week ago now. I try to remember what I was doing then. It is a task not without some effort, (it was a day off, I was productive, I sent my dad a birthday present, I went through town looking for Christmas presents, I did a lot of scanning, then when Rose came home we ate some of the carrot soup I had made, which she said was the best carrot soup she had ever had, then we played some Mario Cart, had sex, etc.) trying to remember what I did five years ago on that day is yes an almost impossible task most days. He says the book is his true love. He is undecided about the plot, wants to get it right, make it good, but more than that, I cannot know.

Monday 17th November 2008 (pp4322-5)

I have often said or written that I don't think if I don't write. When I write in red, it is thinking and it is thinking that I wouldn't have done if I hadn't written it down. It is not thought and then written down, it is thought because it is being written down.