Coconut water

My new thing is lazing in a hammock, drinking chilled coconut water and reading short stories by Muriel Spark. I may be suffering some kind of convoluted breakdown. It was always to be expected. In the distance there are sirens wailing, some kind of emergency down in the town, I'm too far away to witness or influence anything but it's all kicking off. It may be the affect or the effect of coconut water. Thereafter I spent an hour in the company of the Blue Oyster Cult, it was almost relaxing but not as relaxing as Muriel Spark. She wrote about the Blitz, the randomness of death and chaos, the unfairness, the abstract funerals, poets meeting their untimely mortality and so on. In the end I didn't know what to make of it. At this point I reverted back to beer.