Music:'Dead Finks Don't Talk', Brian Eno. All gone a bit VG.
*Everybody* stole from Jack.
Do you ever have that thing where you see someone in the street and find yourself absolutely certain they're somehow significant? That happened to me again today. I was walking through Soho looking in the second-hand record shops (of course) and it seemed that every shop I came out of brought me face to quickly-turned-away-face with a man who was clearly just out shopping with his boyfriend. He looked like the gay Noel Fielding - well, all right, the gayer Noel Fielding - and we kept catching one another's eye; his black coat made him look like he should have been standing on some moors somewhere. I think he was probably quite beautiful, but we turned away from one another hurriedly enough each time that I couldn't really tell.
It's odd, and sometimes I don't know why I don't just go up to these people and talk to them. Probably because they'd have me arrested.
Sometimes you just know, with people. Last year I met someone randomly in the street in Cambridge and I thought immediately, 'this person is going to change my life'. And they have. Two people, actually, now I come to think about it.