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Yesterday was the longest day, the day when the year turns and begins to fold back on itself, heading towards winter, it was also the hottest day of the year, breaking all kinds of records apparently. The doubled nature, that temptation to look both ways at once was certainly playing out in my mind; euphoria at the ecstatic encore, to an already brilliant concert…listening to a crowd in Manchester sing every word to Love Will Tear us Apart and in the process almost putting a smile on Mark Lanegan’s face, running side by side with huge portions of self-castigation (I am a world leader in this area) around the choices I make around writing and submissions. Some chances missed, remain missed. Ah well…

So, a hugely confusing 24 hours, with loads of mental wrangling…and in this heat who needs anything but easy?

The drive home over the M62 was a pure simple joy of an empty motorway, loud music, the wall of white streetlights – as if someone had stood a thousand identical glistening swan’s feathers along the fringes of the road – and the utter darkness beyond.

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