I’ve been intending to write this for about two weeks, but simply couldn’t be arsed. Truthfully, I’m probably only being arsed today as I’m procrastinating – this, whilst an intended exercise, is in many ways an attempt at avoidance of putting a pitch together. Ideas surge through my brain cells like a bullets through air, but unfortunately those brain cells don’t send those same neural signals to my fingertips.
To be frank, money issues aside, I don’t care that much at the minute. Insofar as I believe in the concept – which is actually not very, but whatever – I’m quite happy at the minute. Such an admission must come as an utter shock to those of you that have known me in the long-term, particularly in the days before I started writing here and was blathering a constant stream of negativity via a typographical fog horn elsewhere. It comes as a shock to me, probably most of all. My absence from this blog is symptomatic of not being at the soul-suckingly low points of the past – it was rare for me to not blog for more than a few days back then. Now though, rather than writing about life…well, I am living it.
At the Mountains of Madness 