The incense smoke...

The incense smoke that lingered in the air following this evening's service diffused the setting sunlight coming from the west. So beautiful, so quiet, so natural — there was something in balance tonight. And all this in spite of a violent rape and assault which took place on the next road two days ago. Sometimes, moments of profound peace take place in the most inappropriate of times.

Saw lots of people yesterday. Being the end of term, we all went out, as we all must, to get sloshed. M. G. had drunk about twenty pints and four hundred vodka Red Bulls before 3pm, so he had to go home and sleep for sixteen hours. The rest of us, putting aside our alcoholic credentials for a time, stayed out till everything closed. Does that follow, logically? I care little. Stu and his coursemates were there, while T. E. B. ran off after the Chinese meal (*sigh*). H. came along as well (you remember...), and to top it all off, Stuart 'found' a German in Lloyd's bar, whom he carried around for the rest of the night, being sure to show him off as often as possible, stressing that it was another one from Hessen. All in all, it was a Jolly Good Laugh. I taught H. how to play pool. She taught me how to dance. Stu talked to his German. For some reason, I was drinking Bacardi Breezers most of the evening, which I haven't had for four years, after me, S. S., his (then) girlfriend, and a goon from our year bough about thirty of them after GCSEs (in a Scream pub promotion), got thrown out, and were violently ill. I stress that I was fine. No, really, I was: S. & L. vomited in an alley for some time, while C. J. passed out and had to be taken to hospital. I was left, annoyingly sober, to try to flag down a taxi. "Who am I taking?" (Points to those in the alley/on the floor) "Sorry mate." (Drives off). This went on for some hours. Oh deary dear, the errors of youth.