They rage in my heart; occassionally around the periphery of my brain. Almost from day one the trip to Barcelona morphed into a nightmare of physical pain (curtesy of leftover shingles wot in turn ratchted the ME to previously unknown heights); frustration -at being pretty much unable to move, let alone ramble around a city made for rambling; ensuing excruciating boredom; and -possibly misplaced- resentment (let’s not get into that one). It’s over now. I’m back in my territory and this always brings a certain peace. Now all I have to contend with are the usual clashing felings of my love for my scruffy darling habitat (my freedom and my prison rolled into one),  and my visceral longing for the smells and the sounds and the lights of the Mediterranean. Not to mention  Spanish food…oyvay! So here’s a small dream. For me, for La bella Aurora, for my darling Xavi. For all nomads, perhaps. Update 18.07.11 I feel like I’m grinding to a halt. In other words I feel like shit all the time. Still, a trickle ..well, trickles. Shold be grateful for small mercies, innit? There. This one is yet another extra chapter. To be inserted between Bonding With Worms and Dangerous Liaisons. Update 01/08/11. Here be the latest. I’d like to start a new series: Pious Platitudes, Where To Stuff Them. This one is a particularly galling one. Having said that… there are indeed people who don’t know how fucking lucky/gifted they are. Not my Shoggoths, though… Plus: It never rains. Update 02/08/11 This is for the adorable “Mimi”, who’s having a totally crappy time. Life’s stinks. Misplaced Update. 23/09/11 I’m so not sure about this one that I’ve decided to put it here, just to fill a gap. ‘Nuff said.