You..

..and your blue eyes should come round and hang out.
I'll make baked beans on toast and pretend we're married.
Then I'll tell you about all the times I've ever seen you from a distance and you'll be a little freaked out but flattered just the same. And you'll love the way I've put old children's books on the picture rails and you'll be impressed by my Hong Kong DVD collection, but you won't say too much because you're not like that, and anyway, that's why I like you.
Yeah. That's what you and your blue eyes should do. And my blue eyes will be glad to see themselves reflected in such a sad and handsome face as yours.

Meta-Blogging

Don't you hate it when you have an idea for something to write about and you start to write it but then realise it sucks and delete it instead?

Yeah. Me too.

See, I was going to write about how I can't finish anything lately or get any of my great ideas off the ground and that I suspect I may have burnt out my creative abilities too early. I was then going to make a list of all the things I'd done before I'd reached my mid-twenties, like running my own zine distribution business, showing horses, working door at a major nightclub, speaking at the National Young Writers' Festival, being a Pony Club instructor and on the State Pony Club Committee, managing a fast-food shop, creating a Fringe show about brothel workers, disappearing into the rave scene, performing in youth theatre, studying psychology and teaching before being accepted into Drama school, and so on and so on, ad nauseam.

Then I was going to make some reference to all the stuff I'd talked about doing recently (rehearsal groups, play reading nights, collaborative shows, magazine articles, performance events) but never completed, and then I was going to bemoan this fact in light of my previous inexhaustible enthusiasm and try to find a reason for it.


But this all seemed SO FUCKING BORING that I gave up.