..dear reader..

Its conversations in Thames House, and the home office that is making this essay difficult. Bastard government everything is their fault you know. I studied the same essay that is referred to in the assignment question as part of my education. I got really into it, took on the big boys in arguments, felt comfortable with the whole mind/body problem, had it all sussed out. Was well proud. Of course its hard being reminded of whatever the fuck was going on there but I don't want it get in the way of my studies much more than it is currently. Will not ever EVER take on 2 courses at the same time again. Ug. So one more time, an essay on whether or not AI can produce something like a human mind. This could be a turning point to returning some sort of regular study habit that I can't bear at the moment. I could do so well - do I care enough? I've written a plan for it and will start it tomorrow, 1. read essay. 2. take notes on essay... I got 30% for the last one so this...

I'm a long term student of art and history and I history has shown art and politics as interdependant. Something to do with words, images, sounds and the things they symbolise that I can no longer articulate, means I'd rather read the work of modern African poets than try and decipher T.S. Eliot as beautiful as his work is. Eliot may has opened up my ideas about good writing but studying Okigbo and reading the poets in my The Penguin Book of Modern African Poetry have changed my ideas about humans, culture and oppression. I want my Poems to have messages aimed at changing the readers understanding of something but I also want it to wow, to be considered 'good' art as well as having a voice that needs to be heard. I have 4-5 of them and its taken over a year. One of them is long though so that counts for something. I am getting so impatient waiting for replies from people waiting to see if work is accepted, I just want to get them out. I've had parts of ...

Trying to convince myself I can face studying tomorrow. I've been through all the mind body arguments, they were demonstated through the reactions of my flesh, in turning on and off and on of my genes. I exhausted the differing perspectives until my brain split, they broke my mind proving that the only thing that could survive was a computer. I don't want to go back to Descarte, I don't want to try and work through agruments based on definitions I know to be all wrong but can't prove. Using the flaccid tools of a crumbling langauge. I just don't have the heart.

Feelin battered. Remembering how slaps and punches were sometimes regular events. Glasto remindin me of T in the park when my sister's boyfriend hit me and a barely noticed I was that shut down. I wonder if when I'm dead they will look at my skelton and say 'christ she was right, she was horribly abused.' The worst of the damage is in all the fleshy bits that will rot and look weird when there normal anyway. Neighbour started her shit again, could do with out it. She slams doors so hard the whole building shakes and screams so high pitched you think its cats fighting. Didn't care first few nights here. I was almost soothing to here the rukus and not be involved. None of my business, not my family, not where I live. Progress = smugness But I'm flinchy today. That pressure in my nose, like after youve been punched, remembering weekends when my parents were away. My sisters leaving them to it but they did try sometimes. I remeber being shocked at wh...

I said I was an atheist, I'm not but part of me wishes I was. Nothing makes me feel more otherworldly, so much in awe that 'religion' makes sense, as watching space physics programmes. The pictures of nebulae, the attempt to grasp everything within the human mind make me feel a sort spiritual humbleness. A need to pay respect to the beauty and vastness. Besides that surely its a natural response to question the purity of science after the Nazi's and their technologies. Likewise, scientific projects, institutions and companies paying for research have bottom lines the same as everyone else. Eroding the evils caused by ignorance is not usually a top priority. Science depends on theory in order to investigate and theory is subjective. Like the first time I got barraged with bullshit I was only trying to suggest alternative ways of looking at things might be possible and not looking for a fight. It has raised on old fear of atheists. I was always interested in ...

My mum phoned yesterday from her work. My 37 year old sister was intrusted with my mum's bank card and bought enough drink to drink herself into a stupor. My other sister was phoning, my 3 year old niece answered and said 'mummy's sleeping'. When my mum took my brother in law home after their shift the place was a mess and she was to drunk to speak. So moany sister got the kids the next day because my mum had to work. No more updates yet. My mums moving on, taking her with her, granted but still putting herself first. Maybe thats not the best way to look at it, my sister has a diesise. We all have diseases but her's is arguable the worst. She's woman with a strugglying bloke. She can't go on benders and get away with like my working dad can. But on the other hand, how the fuck can she do that. We would take them, she could do what she liked for a day or two, a month or to without it risking the kids. My thoughts were just for the little one, he...

I know how ridiculous this sounds. Doesn't make me want to write this stuff. Some tidyin done, shelf up, bath panel undercoated. Beats making hits for whores. Beats. My gran messing around with beetroot and liver showing how it was all made up. Messing up her spotless kitchen trying to turn what happened in something much more edible. Weaving words and levels of meaning as a poet. I played along but knew the differnece between old blood and new. I'd seen him, others to but this one I knew. His name was Jake and naming him for them was academic, that was his name already I just shared it. Little people are made of such little parts, execpt their middles that go on and on. The longer it went on for the longer there was no way to escape it; it was my middles that were pulled out to.