Please excuse all and any typos from the last post - will be tidied up in a bit 
-
Okay, I actually didn't get a pizza delivered today, yet, but instead managed to struggle out of the routine of this incessant logorrhoea. Good word, that.
I got up, late of course after my night of joy, wrote the early morning entry and then managed to pry-bar myself out of my seat, away from the computer, and very nearly almost out of the front doors of the hotel before a magnetic attraction brought me back.
I shook off the giant magnet, cursed myself for ever buying such a preposterous thing to wear around one's hip girdle, and left the place properly.
No mean feat, when you think about how much I like to sit on my mozarella-filled arse here 
-
I have had 2 strong beers today; I say this right away for my benefit more than anyone else's. I've also eaten proper food, been to an art gallery, had a reasonable walk and taken a couple of autorickshaws, so at least I have experienced more gregarious activity than the previous 2 days put together
Despite my enjoying the beers and the accompanying food (no sign of intestinal trauma yet, we live in hope) and their effect a fairly good amount, and the fact I managed to get one of the novel features of Cochin (Kochi) on video, I felt extremely bad about the beers within an hour of drinking the last, and after a pleasantly-numbed meander down the quiet part of the busiest road in the city, I was not Lovin' It much at all.
I have to say, mind you, that major roadways in Indian cities can really only be happily navigated by the slightly drunk, because the busyness of both traffic and humanoids, and the hectoring of the more desperate humanoids actually bothers you, unless a good hazy cloud of booze takes away all your give-a-shitability, as it were.
I came back here to write the photo post and realised I just couldn't. I couldn't think the way I wanted to (i.e. in a straight enough line to twist linguistically as I wanted to) I knew I could neither create new scribblings nor edit them, to any degree of satisfaction.
I went upstairs and slept it off and managed to pass out within minutes. Typical. My body wants it for its regular functions but every instinct and thoughts really doesn't, just doesn't any more, not until suitale justifiable (and moderate) social situations arise and I can enjoy what I think of as a valid drink i.e. not me getting blind drunk on my own because I want to stop thinking.
I've rather enjoyed thinking recently, it's been wonderfully novel and splendid
Still though, and I'm sorry to prattle on about this because not many actually cvare bnut thjis is my demon I'm grappling with here, even now I'm writing with another window on Wikipedia in the background and I cannot, I just cannot be arsed to read about Peter the Great of Russia at any length and I know almost nothing about the man or his legacy! It's something I have always wanted to know, but even the fading effects of a couple of beers (they are big beers, mind, and 8% ABV) after an hour and a half's sleep sap my will to have a read of it.
Fuck that - I look forward to the day when I can safely stash away a decent enough potted history of the Russian Czars, it'll be a kick, even if only a subconscious one, to remind me how good it is to be able to think straight and more importantly, so much more importantly to want to think straight.
x x x