Scenes From A Revolution

 The narrator of the book I'm currently reading- Iris Murdoch"s Under the Net- has been telling us about the time he ghosted his best friend. Synchronicity, eh? He ghosted him because he'd first betrayed him- and can no longer bear to face him. I can bear to face the person I've ghosted, but I think Murdoch has hit upon something in linking ghosting and betrayal. In ghosting we betray the trust the other person had placed in us. We may argue that the trust was always misplaced and we didn't invite it, but this doesn't entirely stifle the feelings of guilt.

I dreamed I went to have my hair cut and the Latin American hairdresser wanted to shave scenes from her country's 19th century revolution into the stubble. I said, "Go for it." 

I'm happy Jeremy Corbyn is starting a new political party. People are joining in droves- and disgust with mainstream politics is such that it may even get somewhere. I don't fancy tying myself to someone's else's mast so I won't join but if the party puts up a candidate locally I'll vote for them.