Saturday. Fuck Yeah!

due to the subtle pavlovian training of my pooch, I was up at 6am, despite the fact she is not here. I played Kermode and Mayo's film reviews. They reviewed the documentary, Beware Of Mr Baker, the life and times of ginger Baker, I knew I had to see it. I was busy figuring out how to do that, when I found the film on demand. Its fucking brilliant. Ginger is one of the best drummers ever, and burns through life like an wayward comet, laying waste to everything in his path. Despite the destruction the message stays the same, he's just here for the music. I look at his path, and outside of the heroin addiction, had I been well, its one I would have taken. Unlike him, I'd probably already be somewhat dead.

I've always loved skill and commitment, and now I live in the certain knowledge that if things go wrong with what I'm doing I die, I find I'm more engaged than I ever was. The choice that people who take Tysabri look at is this; live out loud and risk death, or live with everything slowly dying inside you. Anyone who has made the choice will tell you, its worth the risk. Of course, this may be my last written statement, if my luck runs out. Weirdly enough, that does make me grin.