Wednesday, May 09, 2012

this rash of posts

Woke up unable to wake up. Spoke to the kid who sounded like I felt so told him to go back to sleep (which is what I wish I could do).

Have 3,000 odd words to write but instead I am stalking people on Twitter and Tumblr. (So much for killing myself off on Facebook).

Am seriously considering starting Twitter & Tumblrs for myself, seeing as all I want to do online is reblog other awesome people and think up hashtags.

Plus which, I am, like a dragon I know, BORED.

3,000 words to go, Space Bar. And it's already half the day done. This time yesterday, you'd knocked off the day's word count, read three pages of Parade's End and listened to one episode of.

No. TMI. This is a serious blog. Full of poetry and obituaries.

In the meantime, if people are discussing the awesomeness of Mike in PGW (and he is, let's not dispute that) can I make a mention of Peter Wimsey's reluctant innings in Death Must Advertise?

Has anybody understood a word I've said here today? I feel like I am speaking from The Other Side, wherever that may be, and people can only hear a roaring sound.

Magnus Pym beckons. I am surrounded by temptations that urge me to give in.