Finding myself at College so late at night, I took this opportunity to inspect the grafitti at the boys toilets. I was relieved to find they included generous invitations such as cum on my boots and other familiar topi.

A few weeks ago when I went dancing with E. in Bethnal Green, she commented with disappointment how all the grafitti in the toilets were myspace website addresses. 'What do they think, that I go there with my laptop? Where are all the sluts' phone numbers and the bad puns and rhymes gone?'

This world is becoming increasingly referential and flat.

* * *

Orage, thunderstorm, is one of my favourite words in French. Perhaps because unlike in English - or in Hebrew - it is a word of its own right, not just two words pasted together. Right now there's one raging outside. A late summer tempest.