Exit Manchester, Enter the Glasgow

March 9th
Holiday Inn Express in the Salford Quays (pronounced "keys", but I still dont buy it)

We leave Manchester today. The guys are still sleeping. Patrick is enveloped in the red throw blanket from the bed. I cant even see his head. This is a serious affair apparently. We woke up early just to go to breakfast and came back so most of us could sleep again. I think we leave in 30 mins. 4 hours from now we should be in Scotland and entering Glasgow. I hope its like the Thunderdome and requires us to fight for petrol or something. Not that I want to fight, but that would be an interesting story at least. I think at this point I am ready to tackle being a writer again. Being around Respect Films and also interviewing all these writers and artists really turns the soul. Makes me want to go out with my camera, start jotting down notes for the novel, direct something. I want to try it all. One thing at a time though, right. No need to rush. I am not in America. There is a certain slowness here that is lost back home. It is difficult to not be compelled by the speed of a crowd. Its like two women being in close quarters will soon be on the same cycle. That is what happens when being part of the crowd too long, we all rag together. I am tired of bleeding from my proverbial vagina. Time to do something.
I also miss my wife a great deal and any amount of creativity helps numb the pain of that.

End Transmission
return to your lives.