Ego-Injections

So this blog is going to be about the goo (e-goo) that I have been squirting in large doses and variant forms into feel-good bubbles that rise to the surface in search of some better metaphor to elucidate the things i've done which are making me feel quite inflated in importance and strangely paranoid.

I suppose the first thing was my big birthday outing, which took advantage of a seasonal lull in social events and a relatively large network of border-line alcoholic acquaintances (many of whom 'brung someone') to create quite a significantly sized celebration. This (and especially a drunken crowd slurring 'Happy Birthday To You') leaves one struggling to try not to enjoy the attention. So in short my birthday made me feel quite undeservedly popular.

Also making me feel a bit unlike myself, (but quite cocky nonetheless) are my recent purchases. I've just ordered a pretty flashy laptop computer that has more features than I could ever use or understand. I've never owned one before - so it's a pretty big novelty. Especially also since it plays DVDs and I've never had a DVD player and especially especially especially that I'll have a rucksack version of the carrier case which I think you'll agree is pretty shit cool (but yes, admittedly but not as cool as Kerry's bag). Also, today I am going to buy a shiney new bike. The first since I made my confirmation (Irish drinking-initiation ceremony) in 1992. This died this year and I've been since using its wheels on half a bike i found coming home from a pub late one night in April. My new bike is one that has quick-release everything so you have to make it into some kind of bike-version of an oragami swan everytime you want to lock it up. You pay extra for that. What a world. So both of these things make me feel giddy and somehow like a more accomplished and more excellent person - such is the customary effect of status symbols. It's a strangely vacuous, illusory feeling.

I am mildly concerned I am committing some act of Hubris. That's greek you know. But I've also balanced out my karma by buying stuff for other people (and that's Indian). My parents are going to get a nice big fat anniversary present, and I'm flying a superstar (my highest commendation)of a person from London to Dublin. Now that I have no money left, I feel a small sense of relief that I won't be able to buy any more shiney stuff that'll make me paraniod about losing.

Tonight I recite poetry in front of lots of people. It's poetry about prisoners and Irish Republican heroes - which allows to steal from their glory in order to honour them. My guy is Robert Emmet. He has no head. Mine is getting fatter as the days wear on. I will of course keep you posted on the wrath of the Gods which is no doubt on its way.