A series of swear words want to emanate from my mouth as I sit and type heavy handed at the worlds slowest computer. Last night as I stay in bed, staring at the ceiling due to insomnia-ahrc related stress (a full explanation is in the post) I thought about people and how people are often “in league.”
No, I’m not paranoid (and any Transmetropolitan reader will know that a paranoid person is just someone that has all the facts) and wondering if people are here for me in little white coats all “in league” with each other. I mean damn relationships again and the physicality’s of what I see around me.
HM and I are well suited. We sit here and people wonder why we are together but it’s quite simple. I have a damning body as does he, too fat and too short relates in the perfect couple. A listless merging of souls came later. I could never go out with a tall man again.
Nothing doing on the writing front. It depresses me too much. The Adour and fervour of a first draft fills me with Nabrokovian passion. The pain, blood and boredom of the second draft instils me with the limp sweat of guilt and disappointment.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment