under another sun

Lorraine and I into Brighton together this morning. Lorraine off to have her hair cut. I popped into Churchill Square and saw an exhibition Beth had organised, on up cycling clothes. From there I went to my old ideologically unsound Starbucks and sat there sipping their largest oat milk latte and working on some poems for a couple of hours. Lorraine on her way, I mooched across the road into the Library where they were holding a poetry and spoken word performance, by trans writers. I stayed for a bit. There is a hard polarisation happening these days. Trans exclusionary feminists who don't think calling yourself a woman suddenly makes you a woman and that trans women who are really men in women's spaces is threatening. Meanwhile trans folks, especially trans women who most of the ire seems directed at,  feel victimised and don't feel that their reality is acknowledged, and that they really are women. I have no dog in this fight and just look on aghast at the viciousness tha...

Started a list of ten tedious things I needed to do, and I did half of them, and then too bored to continue. Spoke to Mum, which was a pleasant diversion for a while, and did some hoovering in the house, then walked down London Road to the pharmacy, where I was the sole customer. The woman, who is older, who was serving me, and I have known by sight for years, just pushed the drugs at me and retreated to the back of the shop. Began working again on the story late this afternoon, and at around 6:30 I had one of those penny drop moments where I realised that the story I had written wasn't quite the one I had intended, but what I had written was more interesting than I what I had planned. Having felt all day that I had got nowhere fast this week, I felt my persistence was finally rewarded. A nice Shahi curry this evening, delivered by deliveroo. Played cards with Beth and Lorraine. All good. Fascinated by JK Rowling getting involved in what has become a very bitter debate around...