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January 2008

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she comes apart, in the avalanche

I had a dream last night about being locked in my tiny study and not released until I wrote my Magnum Opus, and I couldnt so I was finding ways of burrowing out. Maybe this is my brain telling me that I shouldnt force myself to write if I physically cant. Well, mentally can't. There's this big blockade of riot proportions wedged under my skull. Talking of riots and blockades, I've found something to write about in regards to news, the student riots in France. I've been phoning people asking for comments, getting mildly exciting emails about the issue. Generally feeling I have a bit more of a purpose. Read it y'all.

I hate it when you don't want to talk, just want to sit in silence but people are making you talk. Its been like this all day...Perhaps I'm just being really stupid and should just shut up and get on with it. And actually go out. And 'meet people' ha ha. I love that it's such a novelty for me when all I really would like is it all to come in the post tomorrow morning. Money, Extremely hot girlfriend, Anti-cortisol or whatever is the equivalent. I fucking wish I was Faustus sometimes, but then I realise that I might actually need my soul at some point. I don't like the idea of that shifty Mephistopheles character hanging around all the time.

I better stop moaning. I am actually working on something half decent at the moment. It's a lot longer, Each section is kind of like a new entry, slightly differing in format. I guess it's closer to Whitmans' Song of myself rather than anything else. Ergh, that puts me off writing it now. I hate comparing myself to anyone.

Oh by the way,
Hello :)

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