'I' is not only an other, it's thousands, and many thousands of others.

I've just come home from hospital with gunk in my hair. Managed to finally wash it out but there's traces of sticky stuff on my body. There's also a new spider web outside my window. The sun has just got it, as it has got a small leaf furiously twirling in the wind. This bright light is so quickly moving on, however, and soon the whole formation will dim. This morning I saw the remnants of sunrise over the city from the 11th floor of RPA (Royal Prince Alfred Hospital). It's a holiday Monday here (Queen's Birthday, the quaint relic of Empire) and there was a pleasant cool quiet about the streets until about 8.30am. I sometimes wish I was a morning person.

I am getting ready for an interview for broadcast sometime in the future. Also a couple of papers to write for seminars. The discombobulated I that has been myself/ves lately is focusing on a couple of voices instead of the silencing chatter of tiredness and mild alienation (post jetlag).


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