It’s nearly a year now since I went to Thailand. There’s a kind of restlessness gnawing at me now that I’ve realised that. Also next month I turn 25. It’s nearly time for my Gen X mid-twenties crisis. Hmm, think I’ll write a novel to express my inner angst. Actually if you’re really that angsty, why bother? Surely the only people capable of writing angsty novels are the ones together enough to knuckle down and get on with it whilst also being comfortable enough with their feeling to put them into print. Ergo, seemingly angsty writers really aren’t at all. You were lying all along JD Salinger, whilst you raked in teenagers hard earned cash. How could you sleep at night?
Speaking of novels, I am currently half way through Neal Stephensons "The Baroque cycle" and it’s starting to hurt my head. It’s a whole series of novels about the origins of the stock market and the origins of science. It’s simultaneously the dullest and most interesting thing I’ve read all year. It’s like The Lord of the Rings in its ceaseless arcana.