Today, I had a stomach full of bread, sausage and ketchup. It's been a while.

I didn't realise it until close of play on Friday: I hadn't been to Hardy's sandwich shop since I've virtually stopped drinking, for the obvious reason that I haven't had the genuine feel-bad-because-of-hangover reaction rather than the feel-bad-because-of-arhythmic-gut-contractions. It's something that has disappeared entirely from my life - and I hadn't noticed. I hadn't noticed I hadn't chatted to the jovial owner about what/who I did last night. I hadn't realised I'd never actually seen the equally-jovial female partner post-pregnancy, whose ballooning had been a major signifier of the passing months. I haven't even realised that I hadn't had the Staffordian serving girl attempt to flirt with me for so long. Twas gone.

So, in that spirit, I took my - visiting - brother there for lunch and had a sausage sandwich.

I've got a strange relationship with nostalgia. Nominally, I despise it, and coined the "Nostalgia is an emotion for people with no future" epigram to dismiss it as quickly as possible. I prefer an understanding of History - knowing the past, and loving it - but using it for fuel to create something new. Get there. Get better.

But just because I loathe it, doesn't mean I'm not victim to it. In the same way - say - I'm always going to have something sharp slip inside me when I see Exs snogging someone else, just because I despise something, doesn't mean I can just get rid of it.

So, as much as I'd like to say we were carving a better tomorrow out of the dancefloor in Ts tonight, I really know the vast majority of its appeal was because of the collected detrius of the past. Ts - a fossilised slice of culture from my student days, as still in time as if it were placed in the heart of a Pyramid. Same people. Same songs. Same sweat dripping off the ceiling, slivering down your back as the "Love is a game of chances/ I'll take my life from you" is slivering down your soul, taking you back to looking wistfully at Sarah Kobaleski on the School Disco.

But fuck it. We're all weak. Save the future for tomorrow. Today I took a day trip to the past. At the worst, I still remind myself what quality of memories I should be laying down.

And besides. I made the girl who was flirting with my Brother's eyes explode with joy when I said her Sarah-Jessica-Parker chained-cigs-and-prada look was perfect. It's not all about the old shit.

New shit: Luna 16's in a workable state. Got some teaser art. This could work, y'know.