The internet is strange.
I went cold turkey while I was away, and didn't miss it at all.
On return, my two go-to internet activities - reading the Guardian, and Twitter - held no appeal at all. The news felt like self-flagellation and Twitter just looked bewildering - what on earth did I see in it? It was a repository for pointless opinions, bad jokes, hollow people.
The Graun had me hooked again by Tuesday. Twitter remained awful until this afternoon, when I snuck a peek, just to see, and was instantly sucked back in.
This is always how it goes after a Twitter break; it takes time to adjust. But where else are you going to see Johnny Marr slagging off Rick Astley? God, Twitter's brilliant.
Somebody posted this old but magnificent clip somewhere down that thread:
What a wonder. One day, the great and the good will assemble to witness illustrious musicians perform a song I've composed on my Yamaha PortaSound PSS-470 electronic keyboard, and I too will wipe tears of pride from my eyes while the world looks on approvingly.
I've knocked out five tunes on it today, so stardom surely can't be far off.
This morning I enjoyed a fantastic lecture about why we collect things, then in the afternoon I watched Werner Hertzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams and pretended it was studying.
This time last week I was driving home from Milton Keynes on the A420, towards the fading light and a crescent moon, not wanting the holiday to be over.
Today's Photo: Forgotten Dreams
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