Just so I don’t have to answer any sabbatical questions individually:
- Had a mental breakdown
- Spent six months doing mushrooms
- Caught Stendhal syndrome
- Forgot how to write
- Probably not back permanently
- Love you
I’m so sorry for any messages/emails/calls I missed.
I’m listening to it and (granted, I’m a bit fragile right now anyway) it makes me sob my absolute fuckin’ heart out.
Oh, and don’t get me started on that calliope instrumental cover of it from Bioshock Infinite.
HOW CAN THAT DUMB SOUND MAKE ME CRY?!
https://t.co/pKeWwxpVmp
I’m running out of synonyms for sadness.
What’s the spiciest way of describing the way ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’ makes me feel?
It’s in my top five and, I’ve no idea why, but it gives me a soul-aching, melancholic, despairing, haunting, sorrowful (etc) feeling in my heart.
Due to a self-imposed ban on psychedelics the past year, I now end each day clothed in nothing but dirt, feeling nostalgic for periods of time that never existed.
I have a ritualistic, meditative, primal, savage party to the anti-music of Heilung.
https://t.co/JkwiyKUcOc
Me: *Looking down the long list of important and worthwhile things I need to do for my business*
My brain: “I should start a podcast-based panel show for copywriters called Whose Tagline Is it Anyway?”
@EdCallowWrites I enjoyed parts of it and it was smart in some places and had a really unique twist on what Tyler Durden actually is. But it goes full-blown masturbatory-meta in the weirdest way. Just weird enough where I kinda respect how strange it is, though.
*Didn’t get the message behind Fight Club but it’s their favourite book*
*Can recite one Bukowski poem but misattributes it to Hemingway*
*Aggressively quirky bookends that house a half dozen colour-coordinated books*
Synchronicity.
Been reading The Secret History by Donna Tart and the campus location reminded me of a book I read in the early noughties.
I couldn’t remember the name or author(s) and spent an hour unsuccessfully Googling.
And it’s the first book I saw in a charity shop today.
And maybe I’ll find a little more time in my day to figure out if I want to go to space or dig holes.
But yeah, I wore a shirt without a floral pattern for the first time in about 10 years today…
But I still don’t know if I want to be an astronaut or an archaeologist.
I don’t know if I ever will.
But maybe I need to stop doing my own taxes for a bit, and stop worrying about all of the plates that I’m spinning.
Because I’m beginning to hate the restrictions they bring.