rain steals my day, it's a beautiful thief, nourishing the environment and depleting my spirits, i can't surf in the rain. i want to throw a tantrum. i sit in my studio and look at it falling, drops exploding upon the palm fronds in morning light. big dark storm clouds black out, far out, it feels like sunday evening on a friday morning, and i feel like i'm dreaming.
later i pace up and down, in one room out the other, can't read as my thoughts are half formed. the 'limit' narrative gets mashed into my own. i float through space towards the sun adrift, isolated, alone, isolar, i think of... 'subterraneans' that magnificent sound, your vocals come out of the music like a ghost, man that was incredible. i see on bowiebook csm that stupid critic from the old nme who slagged you off saying, 'it's the last nail in his coffin' when he reviewed 'heroes' is now singing your praises. what a prick, i feel like writing to him and pointing out to his zillion followers what a wanker he is but you would probably have forgiven him long ago and found it funny, just like you did martin amis. 
'flash in the pan' ha! not many got the reference in blackstar, especially the video but i did, a very funny moment you always were a step ahead. i recall you saying how much you enjoyed 'money' i did to, i liked most of his books except 'yellow dog' which i should try again but 'zone of interest' is probably his best. 
anyway it's still raining here, and everyone says hi.