156

I am taking a holiday from self-expression.

See you later. Bye!

155

I have saved 82p from 'multibuy savings' during my visit to the supermarket today.

Looking at the receipt upon my return home, it feels good to recognise the names of my friends: macaroni cheese, mushrooms, granary loaf, Marston's Pedigree, baked beans, swede.

Perhaps a reader is thinking 'get a life'. Well, I have had one of them already, and it wasn't very good. Standing in noisy bars with bouncers on the doors, with horrible modern music and aggressively flashing videoscreens, drinking overpriced lager and straining to hear what someone is shouting in my ear. I think that's what some people mean by 'life'. Oh, to think of what I'm successfully avoiding: all the cackle of banal conversation, all the having to maintain relationships with lots of different people, some of whom I like more than they like me, some of whom like me more than I like them, some of whom I thoroughly dislike and the feeling is mutual, some of whom wish me well but are quietly looking forward to being on their own again, as I am.

No, macaroni cheese and granary loaf are far more rewarding companions.

Get a loaf.

154

It occurs to me that, between us all, we inhabitants of this planet could have come up with a much better name for it. Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter: they're alright, but Earth? Let's name all the other planets after Roman gods, and let's name our own one after that mucky brown stuff in the ground.

Or maybe it is appropriate, after all?

I hereby declare a competition to think up a better name for our planet. So come on, readers, send your 'Renaming Our Planet' suggestions to Solipsist In Exile. On your marks, get set, go. I'll forward the best suggestion to Prince Charles.

153

I want to write closer to the womb.

As opposed to from an established position in society.

As if guiding potential human beings as to whether it's worth popping out or not.

152

I could argue, paradoxically, that romantic idealists are actually the true pessimists and the true realists.

Pessimists in that the keen desire for a far better, much different world is produced out of a deep dissatisfaction with the world as it is; a desperation that requires some outlet; a place for the positive feelings that can't be met in the world we actually inhabit.

Realists in that the depiction of the desired society as utopian indicates, consciously or unconsciously, a belief that it isn't really possible. This contrasts with the optimism of those who believe that a desired society can come about through political change, or of those who are sufficiently content with the world as it is not to desire fundamental change.

It is a yearning. It is the best part of us crying out forlornly for a world that matches its goodness. Better for that part to express itself forlornly than for it to resign and perish.

I salute those who have the courage to express this yearning. Such expression embarrasses and antagonises those who have resigned to cynicism. But can there be real joy, deep happiness, in cynicism? I doubt it.

151

150

With all this social networking, perhaps soon everyone will officially be everyone else's friend. Won't that be nice? Maybe that'll see an end to wars and so forth.