I’m fine, a bit frayed. Zipping all over the place and getting tired. Smoking way, way too much. Had fillings done which was horrible. Julia’s party tomorrow night, Toscar’s friend’s party Saturday. Trying not to drink, failing massively, forgot how much I liked sherry. Like I said, a bit frayed.

NO POEMS. NONE. NOT ONE. Totally creatively barren.

I do have my sex drive back though, so y’know, swings and roundabouts. 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “

  1. Stop smoking, naughty boy.

    Creative drought here too. Well, it was 40 degrees yesterday. Better suited to drinking beer.
    Poems and the Christmas “festive” season are diametrically opposed.
    It’ll all come back post-Christmapocalypse.

    Enjoy Julia’s party tonight. x

  2. 40 degrees? Fuck a duck. And you’re expected to wear clothes and things are you?
    Yes party should be fun, I am wearing an elf green coat and I’m bringing Christmas Cake. I should get an award for being so cooooooool.
    😉 x

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