2001-11-16 - 3:59 p.m.

�I know it�s wrong�I know it�s selfish�such a short life�with so little time. You know this pattern�a patchwork of many directions�.cobbled together�an odd shape and size��

Now I realise I�m a na�ve, fresh-faced, wet-behind-the-ears newcomer to the glamorous and lucrative world of filmmaking. I doubt I�ll ever make another, given the lifetime�s worth of hassle I�ve been to just to get 14 minutes of inconsistently humorous footage down on celluloid. But even so, I don�t think I�m being Mr Over Reacting when the two production company clowns suddenly become deadly enemies for unclear reasons, start using me as an unsuspecting pawn (my laid back demeanour lends itself depressingly well to this � I give great unsuspecting pawn) in their evil power games, climaxing this week in a farcical chain of events involving multiple theft of the negatives (the most expensive/important bit of the film, and my property) and them subsequently being held to ransom, my having just spent the afternoon on an annoyingly clandestine assignation involving furtive calls from public phoneboxes and envelopes of used banknotes.

I mean, I�m new to this, but I�m guessing this isn�t how Universal Pictures operate on a daily basis. Technically, I�m sure I could have them both arrested, but it�s worth paying out the money I so haven�t got just to have them out of my life. Of course, I�m assuming the canisters they gave me actually contain the film, though more likely it�s just some random clippings off the cutting room floor.

I love the glamorous and lucrative world of filmmaking.

�Take my hand�we�ll walk through this together�but my hand gets sweaty� you somehow slip away�.I try to call you�but I don�t call too loud, no�.try to look�I never look that hard��

Meanwhile, my temping career has taken a breathtakingly meteoric rise. The office I moved furniture around in yesterday obviously liked the cut of my jib, or rather noticed how pathetic I was at lifting heavy tables, and have offered me a few weeks� work as a desk johnny. I�ll be responsible for making sure that their words are suitably processed. Processed. Puts me in mind of mechanically recovered meat products or luminous cheese.

I can�t say I�ve missed the 9 to 5 grind, but it will instil a parentally-approved work ethic into me, I suppose. And it means I can buy food this weekend. And get horribly drunk, natch.

I was thinking last night, sat there all alone in my onion costume, of things I DO miss quite a lot�living with people I can laugh and share ideas with, writing songs, waking up next to someone, my brother, being relatively immune to hangovers, not caring what I was going to do with my life, being loved by someone, looking more like Morrissey than Moby, thinking anything was possible.

The thing is, I guess I can do something about most of them, instead of just moping around - "a feverish little clod of ailment and grieving".

I�ll never get the quiff back, though.

��Cos this blue�s a swirling ocean�and green, the ambition�and red is the guilt�there�s a lot of red. And yellow is my sunshine�comes out on odd occasion�barely�enough�to keep you around��

Today�s ongoing besuited crushes