Thursday, 21 February 2013. Other people think so too. Darkly hilarious and thought provoking from cover to cover. Sometimes poignant and dark, sometimes very funny . A must-buy, especially at this ridiculous price! You will notic.

I seldom write here about myself, well, when I say about myself, what I mean to say is, I seldom write here the stuff of a journal, well, why would I bother? It is not dissimilar to the tensions resident in the endless prattling in posts such as this. Needs, and what is truth for me is that which I need at the moment I read. Everything I write here is my. Should one choose one or more based on the frequency of posting? .

If any man have an ear, let him hear. The ephemeral, the ethereal, the banal. I know a lot about life,. I get angry and have to. They are, and remember. Them, things, and stuff. Letters from the past tell me things,. 8220;There is no snow in Hollywood, there is no rain in California. Some chap once said,. As I thought of clouds and planes and the.

This blog wont be monitored or updated any more. The web will reclaim it, like a sandcastle abandoned to the sea. But the fun of a sandcastle is in the building. Signing off, with a pocket full of shells,. Writing brought us together my K. A private language quick to bind.

A book of blogging, by bloggers, for everyone. Thursday, January 26, 2017. 70 - All Proceeds Still to WarChild. Tuesday, March 17, 2009.

Rolled Book Shapes - extremely satisfying to hold and contemplate. Serving absolutely no practical function except to make you sit and contemplate for a second or two. One day you finally knew. What you had to do, and began,. Though the voices around you. And you felt the old tug. You knew what you had to do,.

Practice makes perfect, but too much practice makes you a whore. I am too old to be heartbroken. I should be a young sylph in white drapery, crumpled. One should think of pale mournful eroticism. With splintered heart evident in my fractured swan wings, unnaturally bent. Being old and heartbroken is snot and the tears under the chin. The crying is too self indulgent , I took pictures of myself this time. Always we knew it was not really f.

Tuesday, 11 September 2012. And here I am again. Hectic times are here again. Following it as it swells and winds. Down the trail, through brambles and over stiles. Past sleeping cows and curious sheep. All the way to Bristol, where hospital awaits again. Next year, I say.