It's just gone past midnight, I should be going to sleep. I have planned to get up early, have my hair cut and get rid of the beard in time for three peaks and Amsterdam; That's not remotely interesting... but I feel the desire to write something! At midnight! You could of come to me earlier, desire you bastard. What am I supposed to do at this hour!
I don't even need to be writing, I'm supposed to be taking a step back whilst I complete three peaks and sort out Maybe, misery. So what's wrong you ask? Absolutely nothing I answer. Monday morning, I arrived at the bus stop for ten to six. No bus appeared. It must be a bank holiday AGAIN! So I rush home, grab my bike and speed to work. I arrive at work and they inform me a bit too late that I'm off! So I bike it back home... Could of told me sooner! But I get a paid day off and I got some exercise so it's not all bad.
I realised the other day that I'm a funny guy... people laugh at the things I say, whether it's sarcasm, my bluntness or my down right cheek... yet I can't write funny on the page! So why's that a problem you ask? It isn't, I like dark stories and maybe it'll come to me eventually!
I finish work today half an hour late, which is once again unacceptable. I head to Nan's for chicken, brews and a chat. I suddenly get two ideas for books I'd enjoy writing but it keeps dawning on me that every character I've written so far comes across as unlike-able! That's fine, I'm still learning and perhaps once I stop writing characters with my point of view, things will change.
So what's a matter you ask once more? Nothing, I answer.
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