She'd obviously just learnt how to talk, and was making up for her baby years of absorbing the world wide-eyed and (mostly) quiet by vocalizing everything, questioning, laughing, arguing about who was getting most lollies. Cute. But the rest of the theatre didn't see it that way. Halfway through the Return of the King, someone spoke up: "Could you please shut the hell up". Exit dad and little girl, who pipes up - "I'll be quiet! I promise!" - but too late. This little happening made me think about the consensual illusion we engage in when moviegoing. Movies are our culture's ultimate form of storytelling. No longer must we rely on our imagination to supply imagery. But they only work if everyone is quiet, if people give themselves up to the spell of a good story. It's an unspoken contract. People only break it in groups (teenage flirting) or if they are too young to have learnt correct behaviours. The little girl really shattered the illusion for me; the real world competing with the screen world.

She also made me think about the timeline of life. It seems that we're born utterly selfish, knowing only of ourself, with other people as the backdrop and servants to our lives. Then we learn attachment to our parents, and learn something of selflessness and an awareness of the existence of other people. School and siblings help as well; no longer are we the privileged elite, the one round which the world revolves. (When my second brother was born, I hated him for taking the attention which was rightfully mine. I tripped him over, whacked him, tried to hurt him continually). Adolescence furthers the awareness of both self and other. Then eventually we have a child, and in doing so, subjugate ourselves totally to the whims of another person.

35 degrees today. Beach weather. I wish I was elsewhere, another place, another time. It's the first summer holidays I haven't been elsewhere. Home and on holidays doesn't seem the same. I will be away soon, though. The thing I love about holidays is the chance to make yourself dead to the world. For all other people know, you could be dead. I like that anonymity, that absence. I love people, but I get so sick of them at the same time.