Just arrived home in Bradford. Walked home up a frosty hill. I needed to get the blood circulating after New years. Lots of drinking and the like.

Did you know it was a blue moon on the 31st? Second partial eclipse of a full moon that year. It took me by surprise outside the pub as I looked up. I took a drag on a Marlborough in the frosty air and saw a bite taken right out of the moon.

Later I was strangely mute at the house party. I had no words or any energy to give. Guess there were too many strangers for my liking. To many that I'd not get past persona with and no point in trying. Not enough friends to feel at home and the foggy threat that the old friends are wandering. Those radically intense relationships of the naughties are drifting.

The turn of the decade was fantastic though with all of us singing that song and jumping up and down in a small dining room till the ground shook.

The after, after party was my favorite where you get down to sitting and chatting with the people you know and love. This feeling of not having anything I wish to give still pervades though. Emptiness.

The maker of the plane pictured must be said is a diamond geezer. Its a WWII Lancaster decorated entirely with cutouts from Viz.