Wednesday, November 13, 2013

post modern architecture

512 last night. Icy fingered and wide eyed. I stood and looked at window within windows. Sixteen in one, which to me seems like a waste of lead to separate the window. Is it for art? Is there art in architecture? I suppose there but that means that the parts that aren’t art are just chiecture. I keep spotting people on the buildings. The top floor of the bus is like a mobile viewing platform into the intricacies of Glaswegian chiecture. Yesterday i saw 2 cherubs reading a book, lazing about. Of course, it was valentines day, so i really expected them to be doing a little more than dicking around. Surely this was their busiest day of the year. That was like seeing santa in a Jacuzzi on xmas night.

The valentine pile did not amass for me this year. It is not something that i have come to expect anyway, but even with all the sticky mank surrounding this day, i still quite fancied the idea of getting a mystery card. Did i send any. Well i sent her one. Had to. Compelled. She will never know, but i just wanted her to know that there was someone. A whispy admirer, all smoke and mirror, but no magic.

The weekend looms upon me. I am going to get back to my booksearch. I have reinforced my knowledge and with glad heart i shall triumph. Accumulated bus numbers drowned in wine. Such is the joy of Friday night