am out in the middle of the country in a beautiful new house, not a soul about and i'm roaming the hallways feeling that i can puke because i've got nothing to do...
this break was supposed to be a recoup of the energy for the next writing attack in the new year but for me, writing is like breathing and i can't write at the moment because i wanted to prove to myself that i can do without, when it's obvious that i can't do without...
arrggghhh....
instead, i'm pillaging my record collection which is in storage here and bothering friends by going ... 'so ummm....are we going to do something'.....
maybe it's this town, i met up with an arch enemy in this small town and it sent me into a plethora of bad small-town memories, i don't know what it is....but it is genetically impossible for to relax, i think.
though i'm coming up with good ideas....loads of them, in fact and am getting sophie to pose in front of people in cowboy hats and signs that say 'our god is an awesome god' so, i am amusing myself, but am still freakin' out!!!!!
have my shut in writing years made me socially retarded?
i dunno!
merry christmas!
― doom-e, Saturday, 21 December 2002 22:13 (twenty-three years ago)