And the political one, and the personal one. I hardly have the enthusiasm to write this post - or any post. Maggots. Maggots in my head. That is all.
I've decided I'm going to make my fresh start after the bank holiday. Then you'll see a new me. A man full of enthusiasm, hopefully. Another fresh start. Can you believe it?
Great Britain. Really? How am I ever going to make any serious money in such a country? Everything seems to be falling apart. At least there's a global market for songs. That's some comfort. If only I had the energy ...
Politics is going nuts right now. Mental. Sick. Pretty soon we'll be living in a fascist state. Maybe I should escape to America. I don't know if things are better over there. Probably not.
The personal is a joke. Don't even want to think about it. All I want is my angel. She would make everything better. Everything better, everything better ...
I don't even have the willpower to shape this post. It's going to be a collection of random thoughts. That's pretty obvious, isn't it? [Why am I asking you? You're not going to speak to me.]
I feel like Martin Sheen at the beginning of Apocalypse Now. I want to go wild and smash things up because I'm sick of lies and the people who tell them. And the people who live them. The worst ones (people) are the ones who think they're just fine. They even think they're doing you a favour when they acknowledge your existence.
I've decided I'm going to make my fresh start after the bank holiday. Then you'll see a new me. A man full of enthusiasm, hopefully. Another fresh start. Can you believe it?
Great Britain. Really? How am I ever going to make any serious money in such a country? Everything seems to be falling apart. At least there's a global market for songs. That's some comfort. If only I had the energy ...
Politics is going nuts right now. Mental. Sick. Pretty soon we'll be living in a fascist state. Maybe I should escape to America. I don't know if things are better over there. Probably not.
The personal is a joke. Don't even want to think about it. All I want is my angel. She would make everything better. Everything better, everything better ...
I don't even have the willpower to shape this post. It's going to be a collection of random thoughts. That's pretty obvious, isn't it? [Why am I asking you? You're not going to speak to me.]
I feel like Martin Sheen at the beginning of Apocalypse Now. I want to go wild and smash things up because I'm sick of lies and the people who tell them. And the people who live them. The worst ones (people) are the ones who think they're just fine. They even think they're doing you a favour when they acknowledge your existence.
