She said, “how is it being famous?”

She said a bunch of other stuff as well.

Afterwards, I walked out of the house. I found Mothboy and Jeres in the Auld Shillelagh.

We had a few drinks. They were talking to Australian people.

I left, and walked down Church Street.

Within a few minutes, I bumped into Ceri.

He said, “Tug!”

I said, “Tug!”

About four years ago, I recorded some songs with Ceri, as part of my old band. This one time, we were supporting Public Enemy, in the Millennium Dome. I texted him and told him.

“One day that”ll be you up there tug!”

he replied.

“Believe!”

He was DJing at some place on Stoke Newington High Street.

I hadn’t seen him for four years.

I like Ceri lot.

He inspired me.

So I went with him.

We were greeted by Aleisha from Mis-Teeq and a man I recognised from a while back. We had drinks. I danced to garage and ragga and house music with random asses. I can do that.

It was nice to see Ceri.

I like Ceri. He believed in me. Most other people didn’t.

I snuck away from the asses at Late Time, and waked back to the flat I live in.

But Church Street was covered in Police Line Do Not Cross Tape.

I crossed it.

A Police man started to swear at me, and demanded I call him “Sir”, and say, “please”. He was threatening, and violent.

I refused, so two other Police men ran towards me, and I ran way.

Down some side street, vaguely in the direction of my flat, I chanced upon two boys.

I said, “watch it up there, there are fascists.”

“Some one got shot,” they said.

I said, “They ran at me.”

“Bit of a rock star aren’t you, in your Ferrari tracksuit,” said one.

“Bit of a a Akira The Don,” said the other, sneerishly.

I walked on.

When I got to the next turning, a Police man shouted at me. So I walked another way.

Eventually, I got back to this flat, that I seem to live in.

I don’t like it here, very much.

It reminds me of things.

I wish I wasn’t here.

So I wrote a song.

There are a few things I am good at, now.

— Sunday, November 19th, 2006