I like light pink, lime green, light blue. I like these lovely gay colours, not the gaudy “hot pink” or moss green or faded dark blue shades.

My cousin and I wrote some poems when we had the time, amidst our busy and disturbing lives, to take a bohemian vacation of beer and sushi. Somehow, pain and melancholy seem to be the stuff of the best poems.

I won’t pretend to know what good poetry is, but I do know what art is and what it can do. I won’t claim to be an artist either, because I can’t derive aesthetic ability from aesthetic theory. Frisson, catharsis, transcendence, form, sentiment – these things seem to be derived from art more than art is derived from them.

But then again, I could be wrong. In the meantime, KI has proven to be a panacea for the ills of muddled thinking. After picking up “Conceptions of Inquiry”, an Open University set text, I can feel my clarity of thought and expression slowly returning. Granted, heavy academic writing isn’t ideal – especially when the reader is on sleep-inducing medication – but it helps.

Ok, I’m tired, that’s why things aren’t coming out right. No, I just mean my words and ideas.