So what’s to be done? I guess I’ll post a picture of a pretty lady, as usual.
Because that’s what it’s good for, the internet, sharing images and information, and why share information that’s not interesting? And so why share images that aren’t aesthetically beautiful?
Since finishing the novel I’ve done more or less nothing. Watching lots of television, trying to sleep, and getting sick. Again. I guess running myself ragged for two weeks has caused by body to collapse now that I no longer need it running on empty fueled only by my desire to escape the madness that are my words.
These words are my madness. They’re a disease.
I can’t live without them, however, because nothing’s as worthwhile when they leave me.
Where do you go, my Love? Where have you been?
The words and the madness are all the sustain me.
But I ranted much about that a few posts ago in that awful chunk of text.
Should be starting something new fairly soon. Novella or novel, hard to say. As always. The last one was meant to be 20,000 words, but it expanded to quadruple that and I still need to go back in and add all that’s missing, which might be more substantial than I had previously thought. It keeps growing in my head.
So it goes.
In about twenty days, hopefully less, I’ll be in america again. The place I hate yet call home.
But there’s hope. I may be joining the Occupy movement.