WARNING - this blog posting contains NO punctuation or paragraphs
I’ve had one of those days where you just want to lock yourself in a dark room with nothing but a candle and a barrel full of wine or vodka and just get absolutely blotto and then kill yourself or maybe you’d like to steal a powerful sports car from some megalomaniac egotistical narcissistic businessman and scream down the A47 ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD with your eyes closed screaming your lungs out until you run out of breath or petrol or get taken out by a police marksman or maybe you’d like to sell all your belongings on eBay and use the money to have a few hours with a prostitute in a posh hotel somewhere and you’d amaze her by paying her double her usual rate and then you’d just sit on the bed saying ‘I just want you to hold me that’s all’ or maybe you’d like to pack a small bag with one shirt and some toothpaste and go to the airport and buy a ticket on the first available flight to anywhere and wherever you ended up you’d call yourself Pablo and go to work in the nearest shitty coffee shop where you’d befriend wealthy widows and young homosexuals and on a Friday night you’d pick up a second-hand acoustic guitar and sing Bob Dylan songs in French and smoke small cigars that you keep attached to your lip even when they’ve burnt themselves to nothingness because that’s how you feel inside
RC 23-7-13
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