We all knew it’d come to this. Me missing a few days and all. The computer’s still broken so i may miss a few more, but i feel less pressure now since i’ve already missed bits, letting the days fall into cracks.
Been thinking about this song today and i quite like Miss Deschanel’s version, sometimes even more than Smokey’s. It’s quite pleasant.
Senior Slide’s wandered into the weekends and it’s a bit shit, if you get me. Life’s picking up, though. Getting Faulkner under my nails, the research is flowing, the next story’s shaping up with his voice all right in my head, and the novel’s teasing itself into manageable bits.
My mother’s worried for my life and i suppose she should be. Peter turns twenty one tomorrow and somehow we got on the topic of us dying and we’re all pretty convinced that i’ll be the first child to be buried. Certainly no surprise there, what with the life i live and the way these daemons trail me.
Gonna try to set this all down before i forget or it forgets me.