Introspection...

...is hell. Particularly when indulged in during the interminable chasms in time almost demanded by public transport (irrelevant here, but does anyone actually travel by first class on the Heathrow Express?). It also conjures a surfeit of potential titles for a blog, ranging from a plagiarised 'Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...' to a more stoic 'Learning disabilities'. There is no limit to what the mind is willing to deny, which is why it's such a poignant shock to be assaulted by your self absorption with a few well chosen words, delivered by someone who hates your guts as she loves you. It's galling to admit that the snap judgement actually wasn't so snap; you just didn't want to see it. Like shifting attention to foreign policy when the domestic is haemorrhaging. Well, here it is, 70mm full blown technicolour complete with Dolby digital surround. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Truth is, it's easier to focus on the outside, rather than within. Safer to shift the spotlight. Create another series of smaller, less insurmountable fears that divert energy from the real ones, thrilled at the ability of 130 points of IQ to justify it in all manner of ingenious manifestations. Inspired inertia, the effortless place to be. Now, that would be turning laziness into an art form....