Motivation?

Some new prints from Virginia arrived today (Middle and right – silver framed. There’s one other not pictured – it’s in landscape ratio and so in the frames on the other side of the room).

I’d be happy to gaze upon his beautiful smiling face for eternity. Past or present. Twenty-three or sixty-three.

That colour one of him looking to camera was one of the first photos I got from Virginia when I could only get a few tiny 6×4 inch photos. It was coming up to Glasgow with me with the rest of the small array of 6×4 photos I had. They were taken when the van was broken into on the move up here some two and a half years ago.

Replaced at last.

The one next to it (Arthur’s Seat/Edinburgh 1981) was another I had in 6×4 also, I think.

Anyway… on with study and trying to complete another assignment…

Temporary Hiatus – Minds Music Monday – Big Sleep

Not much will be happening here on the blog for the next week as I have to knuckle down for my next uni assignment. Demotivation is starting to rear its ugly head and I need to try and deal with that.

So here’s an apt Minds Music Monday choice. I chose this clip because Jim smiles a lot.

Ah, today’s post…seeing a lady share a photo of this beautiful smiling face she got from Jim. Jealous much? You bet I was! Nothing would make me happier than to see that smile and know that I had produced it…rather than…that look that says “Why are you still here? Please go home, go away. Tiresome woman.”

Wish I could put the ‘Big Sleep’ on my feelings…

When Words Feel Apt

Today’s study involved familiarising ourselves in using the OED as an online reference source (student access to it opens up more than you get by going to the site without student/teacher access).

We were asked to look up certain words that had been used in poems we’ve been studying this week. One of the poems was ‘The Captiv’d Bee: or, The Little Filcher’ by Robert Herrick. Herrick used several archaic and obsolete words, including the word ‘scrip’. His use of it was as its first definition (a small pouch or bag carried by a pilgrim) which he used in metaphor.

The word has/had other meanings, including this one (primarily a Scottish term, as you can see from the screengrab I took of the OED definition).

It struck a chord…

‘Oh, Jim
Am I destined to
Forever sufferance thy scrip?’

Reading Between The Lines…

Or am I reading the ACTUAL lines?

Contradictions? Oxymorons? Paradoxes?

I’m no longer sure what it is now…or what I do with it? 

Everything in life is always open to our own interpretations of it and of course many things affect our interpretation of things – our own mental state being the biggest contributing factor on that. 

I have discussed in the past how much I (over) analyse Jim’s posts. This morning was no exception. 

“Don’t take things so seriously” seemed to be the first focus of the post. Well, that’s all good! Have you SEEN this blog?! Lol. But I know I’ve lost my way with that lately. The more confident you are, you more you are able to shirk off any doubts and that makes humour easier. 

The self-deprecating humour I can exude is deeply steeped in actual self-loathing. I can brush it off as me just taking the piss out of myself when I know deep down the reality of it is VERY different. 

Take last week in Paris for example. I met up with a person in the fandom that I was absolutely petrified to meet. Just the day before they had joked that they were going to leave Paris now they were aware that I was turning up. As much as I wanted to believe they were piss-taking and pulling my leg, the feeling that they were being genuine in their feeling of this (that they were dreading bumping into me and would leave Paris) had overridden.

I saw them on the day of the gig. I recognised them from the moderate distance I was located from them when first seeing them on the day. I stayed ‘incognito’. Not wanting to alert them of my presence. Fear of the reaction I would conjure up within them. That what I was feeling would manifest and they’d repel at seeing me. 

We then did bump into each other. I was close enough to swallow down my self-loathing enough to say hello. They reacted much as I had feared – but it soon became apparent to me it was meant entirely in jest as they then asked for a hug. 

Did that hug wash away everything else within me? I’d like to say ‘yes’…but not entirely. It quelled it, but it didn’t eradicate it.

The more I am aware that confident people radiate a kind of self-love that makes them attractive, the more I see how much self-loathing I have and how very unattractive I am. And I don’t know how to get myself out of that.

For a time it was working. I just…gave myself a break. And I forced myself to…love myself…for want of a better term. I could start to love myself then because I felt so much love! Well…not so much ‘love’ but I felt…worthy. If I didn’t have ‘self-love’ per se, I had ‘self-worth’. I allowed myself to believe that I mattered. 

I can feel that I have lost a lot of what I had gained in recent years. That woman who stood in front of Jim at the Walk Between Worlds album signing – as nervous and sick with dread as she was? – she’s as gallus as they come compared to where I am now. That one in 2018 that stood in a crappy brown coat because she was too nervous to take it off and look good. Too many things in her hands. Too much else to concentrate on. Too preoccupied with not trying to boak on the floor. Throwing down a bag of sherbet straws, smiling, asking for something else to be signed – gallus! – conversing with Jim! Recording a bloody quiz show just a couple of weeks before that! Where the hell did THAT come from? The woman who actually went on TV to participate in one of the toughest quiz shows on telly! Where did she come from? Where did she go?

That ‘Gallus Girl’ of 2018.

I genuinely marvel at someone like Sarah. To hear her talk, of how she was, of her upbringing in Aylesbury – how she does what she does night after night astounds me. Then again, I can feel that thing she gets from Jim. Well…it was something that I used to get anyway.

I described it once as a phial of…magic. This wee bottle of elixir that gave me all the strength, drive and purpose (well, if not actual purpose, the drive to at least SEE if I could FIND WTF my purpose is meant to be!)…the GALLUS I had in 2017 and 2018…vestiges of it in 2019. But I got greedy with it. I didn’t take from that wee phail of goodness moderately. I took and took from it. I overdosed on it. I think I had been ssooo starved of it that I just wanted it all. All the time. Every day. So often. 

Now it has all be sucked dry and nothing is left. In fact, it might be worse than it was at the start. 

I don’t know how to rebuild it. I don’t know how…

I’m trying to work past it with my university study. I am actually doing something that I had wanted to do for so very long doing this study. And I keep trying to justify WHY I am doing it. I’m trying to press home to myself that I am allowed to do this! That there is a purpose to it but I am finding it hard to actually see that. 

“I’m sure you’d agree that there are some people who just make you feel good when they are around”, says Jim in his post today. I wish more than anything in the world I could be that person! 

Back to the person I met on Friday…they said to me that they had been anticipating meeting me. That they actually think I’m pretty awesome and talented and what not and I am trying hold back tears when they’re saying this stuff to me because I don’t want to cry in front of them…but the tears are welling up in my eyes now because….they didn’t have to say those things and I never expected in a million years for them to say those things to me – AND I DON’T FEEL WORTHY!! And because I feel that way about myself, I expect everyone else to feel that way about me. And when they don’t, I am astounded.

Icarus and The Sun.written in 2016

How I am with Jim – I feel like Icarus. Jim is the sun and I, as Icarus, fly too close and my wings melt. And I keep on trying to grow new wings and they get singed too. I want to bask in that warmth so much, I risk endless signed wings for just a few tantalising moments. Fleeting glipses. It’s never enough.

I try too hard. But I don’t try enough. I’m persistent…but a quitter. Ignorant – but overly alert and overly analysing. I am my own oxymoron. I am a paradox. And I feel that everyone hates me as much as I hate myself. 

Actually, I feel like only one person hates me more than I hate myself – Jim. And it shouldn’t matter. But it does.

Cannoli Get Better?

Good news from His Nibs today in his latest post. A number of good news pieces, for him – Villa Angela has once again opened its doors (just in case that whole “being the frontman for the best live band in the world” suddenly starts to go all pear-shaped after 40+ years, like). Whilst it remained closed to the public during lockdown(s), the space didn’t lay dormant, as he went on to explain. The fruits of it in summary – new SM music making its way to the general public imminently. 

If the things I have been seeing bandied about in the fandom are to be believed, somewhere around October is the projected ETA. (Or should that be ETR – estimated time [of] release?) Just in time for my birthday…the final Friday of the month falling on October 28th. That’ll do me just fine, thank you very much! 

With that I am assuming there will be a plan for a tour next year to properly unleash it to the world in a similar vein to how Walk Between Worlds was thrust upon the world? Usually with new music comes a new tour, so I am very much hoping this will be the case. I already have targets in sight for where I’d like to see them play – somewhat dependent upon the venues chosen and my state of health and availability next year. As well as the old financial impact with such things! 

I’m already bringing my mindset back to being of the feeling of ‘less is more’ and ‘quality over quantity’ – so, all being good I’d like to do Amsterdam (must be the Paradiso venue though, otherwise…meh) and Berlin. At the moment I am seeing that, from Paris, the tour’s schedule takes them on to Berlin and it’s killing me! Berlin has been my ‘bucket list’ destination for more years than I care to remember now. So, Amsterdam would be nice, but Berlin is a must! And I’m not even fussed by the venue.

Pre-Covid, I could have just thrown caution to the wind and at this late stage had tagged on going to Berlin straight after Paris, but I can’t do that now. After Paris all I have left is Blenheim Palace and the two Edinburgh Summer Sessions shows and they’ll have to suffice this year. I’ve gone to fewer gigs this year than on previous tours, but only by ONE GIG – it just feels so much less this time. In real terms, and if I factor in that I had at least gone to Copenhagen before the tour halted in 2020, I haven’t gone to any less shows on this tour. Actually, with Copenhagen being my own personal SAF/SFC accumulative tally dilemma (ie: do I count it as two gigs or one? Two distinct and separately billed gigs, just on the one night – and a largely separate audience at both gigs, etc, etc – I count it as two) it could be argued that I will have been to TEN gigs on this tour and therefore it will have been my biggest tour yet!

I’ll have to be more concise and restrained next time. A few shows here in the UK, Berlin as my main overseas jaunt – possibly Amsterdam if it’s at the Paradiso…if not then maybe somewhere else in Germany…Hamburg or Cologne? We’ll see. I’m getting ahead of myself. Before moving away from the topic though, I need to factor in where I will be study wise as well and try and work around that also. I’ll have another module of my course to complete next year before I actually DO get my DipHE in English. Then I will be thinking about moving forward to getting an actual undergraduate degree. 

Briefly on that note – I had a ‘school day’ yesterday. Online tutorials taken as one long block like this, instead of the broken up evening options are referred to as a ‘school day’ as it is a day long set of tutorials starting at 10am and finishing at 3.15pm. I have really enjoyed the previous two school days I had attended and was highly anticipating this one but it left me a little … deflated and unmotivated, sadly. The first tutorial was good. The tutor is very engaging and likes to be very interactive with the students and that’s great. I personally found the topic of this block of four the least ‘interesting’ for me. I don’t know why? Perhaps because I studied the week prior to the block of SM gigs I had coming up, maybe? I should have found it quite interesting as I do love the visual arts, but of the visual arts, sculpture is something that I love most in its modern form and we were looking at Greek and Roman sculpture – from the Archaic Greek (used in its purely academic context), through to the Classical Greek, to the Roman style and only just coming into the time of CE (after the birth of Christ) – to the first and second centuries CE. So…very much NOT modern sculpture. It was enjoyable enough though. 

The next was ‘The Blues’ and this was where my interest lies the most especially for working on my next assessment. I am still weighing up whether to work on my assignment topic as being this, or whether I take a flying leap of faith in myself and take the ‘Writing Stories’ topic and hope for the best? The tutor was engaging but … I didn’t feel like I was getting good guidance or being instructed with much clarity and there were some technical issues that were hindering the tutorial so I came away from it feeling somewhat disappointed. 

We took a break for lunch. The creative writing (ie: Writing Stories) tutorial was next. It was a really tough study week for me, this topic. I didn’t feel any more confident about it being the next tutorial as I took my lunch break. I was dreading it in actual fact. The reality was ssooo different! The tutor scared the crap out of me at the beginning of the tutorial by saying “I am going to give you all time to write something out today”. I had flashbacks of the rare days I’d be in school and we would be given writing tasks and there’s me, staring at a blank page as the minutes tick by and I am paralysed with indecision and inability to put pen to paper on command. 

I embraced it when it came time. We were at least given a starting point. I ran with my starting point and wrote out nearly 200 words in the 10 minutes we were allotted to continue on with one of the story arc options we could choose from. When the tutor returned, we were given another 5 minutes to develop the story from a different perspective. I then wrote out another 80 odd words in the 5 minute allotted block. Both pieces were fluent, linear pieces of imagery and dialogue. Proper scenes. I was really pleased with that. Whether I do anything with it? Whether it becomes part of what I produce for my assignment? At this stage I am unsure. The next assignment is just over three weeks away and although I have done some minor planning (producing a plan is part of the mark for the next assignment), I am still weighing up on deciding my topic.

I seem to have to keep reminding myself who I am. A psychiatrist would have a field day with me, I’m sure! Also…nothing REMOTELY embarrassing revealed in some of the scribble, eh?

Finally, the last tutorial was on reading poetry. I have not studied the unit yet. I will be doing that this week (before Paris!). The tutor was not very engaging and got bogged down on the details of what was required and expected of students if they choose to take the reading poetry unit as their assignment topic. About halfway through I was losing the will to live! I was not engaged with this tutorial at all and I started doodling on this large brown cardboard backed envelope I have on my desk. (See the photo above for all the gory details.) We finished a little early – just after 3pm. I was ssoooo grateful!

Anyway, this was meant to be BRIEF! I’ve taken up half the post with my uni crap! Sorry! It’s the current grapple I have with this blog! I keep wanting to keep this current and fresh with Simple Minds news – but my own personal stuff is occupying my time.

In summary – THERE IS A NEW SIMPLE MINDS ALBUM(s?) TO LOOK FORWARD TO! And…with a new album comes a new tour (one would pretty much guarantee to assume).

YAY!!!

What Does Bob Know About Art Anyway?

“You don’t learn how to be an artist by going to school. It’s something you’re born with. It’s about observing the world – but laying down your own truth.” 

The quote above was at the end of Jim’s post today, credited to Bob Lefsetz. Before I continue on about Lefsetz I want to say that I could clearly see what Jim was trying to achieve with his post but by heck did he go about it the wrong way!

I believe it was Jim’s response to a ‘fan’ on SMOG having a bitch about Berenice’s ‘inability’ (in their eyes) to play the keyboard parts to Simple Minds songs correctly or fluently. The criticism was harsh and quite frankly unjust. All a guise for another “please can we have Mick, Derek and Mel back” endless fucking moan. I’m not going to get onto that topic – been there, done that…sssoooo fucking over it it hurts! 

Rightfully Jim highlighted that by listing her talents, Berenice is a more than capable musician and musical artist. Her parents are musicians, her brother, etc. She’s worked with countless others and produces work used on scores for television series, and collaborates with Glenn Gregory on the project Afterhere, among other things. If I listed all her work and credentials, this part of the post would go on for some time.

What brought it all crashing down for me (Jim’s post) and got my hackles up was the fucking Lefsetz quote! To me, it instantly sabotaged the whole reason why Jim was highlighting Berenice in the post in the first place. 

Let’s break this down. I believe someone can have a natural aptitude for something – especially when it is something that’s creative. Those that have it can find their development of their creativity ‘easier’ – ie: less strenuous, less methodical, less complex (perhaps), less developmentally difficult to achieve than those with seemingly no natural aptitude for the creative arts. But to say we’re ‘born with it’? Like an elusive “ta daaa” – just magicked up to you from…God…? No! It just isn’t true. 

I AM GOING TO LEARN HOW TO ARGUE THIS POINT IF IT KILLS ME! I want to put my counter argument across effectively and coherently, so the outcome is that Jim reconsiders ever quoting Bob fucking Lefsetz ever again! 

I feel let down on Berenice’s behalf with that quote because it takes away the hours of learning. The hours and hours of artistic development that has happened to get her where she is now. It takes away Jim’s counter argument to Mr Bring-back-Mick-Derek-Mel that Berenice has a rightful place in the band right now as the keyboard player as she is more than qualified to be there. 

Bob Lefsetz – a man who studied Art History at Middlebury College in Vermont (Wikipedia, 2022), really should know better from that education of his that artist development is LEARNED and you are NOT ‘born with it’.

You can develop art without schooling, yes, granted. But you are not born with these skills. Much like you’re not born already walking, talking, being able to use a toilet, knowing how to feed yourself, or cook, do mathematical equations, or write words down on a page, or draw a cat. 

My last week of study was REALLY hard. What I write here on my blog comes (mostly) naturally to me. It’s lovely when people tell me that I write well and I have a good way of expressing myself but I want to build on that. That is why I am doing this diploma at the OU. I want to progress. I want to GROW. I want to develop artistically. Because TRUE artists DEVELOP – THEY ARE NOT BORN WITH IT – THEY LEARN IT AND MAKE IT HAPPEN! 

What I was learning with my study this week – none of that comes naturally to me and it never has: creating characters, scenes, imagery, developing plots, etc, etc. I ended the study week feeling that it was something, with time, that I could develop and possibly end up having some grasp of and maybe even be good at…with a lot of practice. 

I was ssooo scared of this week of study. Scared and, to be honest, somewhat cynical. Because we have this wonderful, romantic notion that writers just spew forth their work. That it’s already all just there on their heads and they write it down. NO! The most incredible thing I learned this week was just what an incredibly hard graft it can be for some writers to get a novel produced. The many, many hours it takes, especially with redrafting and editing.

Towards the end of the week of study we were invited to (as we are during every week of coursework) take some optional further study. I generally always work through some if not all of the optional further study each week as I have the luxury of time on my side that a lot of my fellow students don’t. This week there were some audio clips to listen to with writers talking about the creative writing process and how they go about character development, genre of writing, narrative and structure (plot and story arcs), and lastly about redrafting and editing. One of the writers speaking was Tim Pears and he spoke about there being two types of writer; those who were good at redrafting and editing their own work, and those that needed help from an editor. Initially he felt that he fell under the first category and that he was quite adept at editing his own work. After a time he realised this was NOT the case and produced much better work with an editor helping him. Before we listened to the final audio clip, we were asked to think about how long we would think the writing of a novel would take on average. I thought I read somewhere some time back that it took about four months. For a first draft at least anyway. Some tweaks, etc…maybe six months, possibly eight. Published within a year, right? Well…Tim Pears said it would take him EIGHT MONTHS to get a first draft together and the redrafting and editing would take another TWO YEARS!!!!!

Lastly, I just want to mention Malcolm Gladwell’s ‘10,000 hours rule’, playing Devil’s advocate as I do so because Gladwell’s theory has by and large been debunked, but – the fundamental piece of it is  – that it takes MANY HOURS of practice to develop skills is the key. Okay, we can also bring in the thing about giving chimps typewriters and after X amount of time they’ll produce the works of Shakespeare, ya da ya da – but the point of it all is – NO ONE IS BORN WITH IT!

If you’re born with it, why would you need to practice? Why would you have to hone your craft? Why would you produce some great work and some not-so-great work? 

And Bob Lefsetz can kiss my ass! (What is it they say about opinions and arseholes? 🤔😜)

And…I should reference this all properly, get my referencing skills honed…but this is for my blog and I cannae be arsed. Having said that, the Wiki reference to Lefsetz’s schooling is a clickable link.

Learning The Craft And Not Chasing High Marks

More on what I shared yesterday – re: Summer Punch and taking the first steps into truly creative writing. The following was written out in my writer’s notebook on Sunday…


I have nothing to prove to anybody but myself. The learning is the most important aspect of my study. The acquisition of knowledge. The reflection of improvement through applied ‘trial and error’. Lessons learned from making mistakes. Not being scared to ‘slip up’ or ‘fail’. Knowledge is gained from trying and accepting failure – not by chasing ‘rewards’ or good grades. This I must remember and remind myself.

I have been so fearful of this creative writing unit this week that I haven’t been enjoying it. This is the reason I am doing this module! So I can learn to improve my writing skills. I think it has already started to do so and I am already putting much more thought into sentence structure and how I organise my words and express my thoughts.

To really improve my writing and become a better writer I need to step out of my comfort zone and I need to stop placing so much emphasis on grades. Of the grades I get on my assignments. Of course, I don’t want to fail my module! But if I do, I may learn more from the experience as a result.

‘The only thing we have to fear is fear itself’ (Roosevelt, 1933). I have to stop fearing failure. I need to remind myself that to fear failure is to already fail. Apply myself to the right things for the right reasons.

References:
The White House (2022) Presidents: Franklin D. Roosevelt, the 32nd President of the United States.
Available at: https://www.whitehouse.gov/about-the-white-house/presidents/franklin-d-roosevelt/
(Accessed: 26 April 2022).

Summer Punch – Creative Writing Coursework

Yes! I am going to talk about study on my ‘Simple Minds’ blog – sorry. Take no notice of it if it doesn’t appeal. There will be more on this to come tomorrow and you can ignore that too, if you so wish – but in between running this blog and being ‘obsessed’ with all things SM – this is what my days consist of.

This week has been on creative writing and taking the first steps in learning the craft. One task we were given was to write out a scene that would be placed within the broader scope of a short story or novel. It needed to have some fundamental elements to it and to the best of my ability I gave it a try. I’ll elaborate more on this tomorrow, but for now, I just wanted to share my attempt at writing the scene out on here. Not sure why? Just so it could be viewed by other sets of eyes other than my own – but not many. I think fewer people look at my blog than they do my Facebook page so I feel a little less …. vulnerable here. Anyway…here goes…

This is the second draft. The third draft I removed the first paragraph as ‘dead wood’ but it might actually still work and be needed in the context of a broader story.


Wishaw Street is a short, steep street with a steady incline at one end and a steeper incline at the other. Edwina’s house was located near the apex on the steady incline end of the street, while Leonora’s house was closer to the apex at the steep incline end. Their houses were on opposite sides of the street. 

Today Edwina was feeling happy. It was the summer holidays and she was proudly riding around on the street with the new bicycle she had been given for Christmas. The handlebars gleamed shining chrome in the bright, warm sunshine. She loved her new bike and the sense of freedom it gave her as she rode around with it. 

At first Edwina hadn’t noticed Leonora at the side of the road until there was a shout of ‘Your bike is crap and so are you. Go home!’ Leonora and her family had now lived on Wishaw Street for four years. Edwina could barely remember a time since they arrived in which she didn’t feel confined to her own back garden through fear of Leonora’s bullying threats and cruel intentions. 

Today Edwina had had enough. Leonora’s latest insult was the straw that had broken the camel’s back. It was one thing to insult her personally, but to insult her wonderful new bike was a step too far. Leonora had mouthed her final insult. 

Incandescent with rage, her cheeks burning red hot and nerves churning away in the pit of her stomach like Jupiter’s Big Red Spot, Edwina dismounted her bike. Abandoning it in such a haste that it fell to a heap on the curbside. A sharp pang of guilt striking Edwina as the audible thud of the bike hitting the curb reached her ears. ‘My precious bike!’, she screamed inwardly. 

Edwina was now trembling, not from fear of what she was about to do having any repercussions but from the despair of having been driven to take such drastic action. Crying uncontrollably. Tears streaming down her face. Salty water trickling into her open mouth as she gasped for breath and inner strength, Edwina walked up to Leonora and punched her on her left cheek. 

Still crying inconsolably, she turned around, collected her disregarded bike and walked with it the short way back to her front garden. Once again disregarding her bike near the porch by the front door, Edwina opened the screen door and ran into the arms of her mother standing in the living room.

A Kerr – I Care…

A curious thing happened yesterday.

Jim posted a photo of himself and Gordy – looking for all the world like a coupla Glesga gangstas – a great image, really, esp. as it was given more menace by Jim’s face being obscured by shade. Despite it feeling much like “pissing in the wind” these days, I left a comment. These days my comments tend to be off-the-cuff things I give very little thought to because…I don’t see much point. It’s not as if there are replies that happen these days so…you know…one has to get on with one’s life and suchlike.

Having said all of that, no one was more surprised than me to later on in the day get a ‘like’ for my comment. Well, more to the point – a ‘care’ emoji.

I thought “How very odd!” The comment I left was this…


“Would you trust these men if you met them in a dark alley?”
Glesga gangstas! 😂😂😂


Now THAT is an odd reaction emoji for such a comment, don’t you think? So then I go into “over analyse” mode – because despite what I just said above, all of this shit still means more to me than I feel comfortable admitting to (esp. on here!). Now, this said emoji is called ‘care’. And so I was thinking about how that word sounds and how Jim…who “doesn’t have an accent” says his own surname…

Yes…this is the kind of over analysing crap I do! Care = Kerr??

Before I got ahead of myself I went and checked this comment reaction out. Was it actually left by the official SM FB page? Well, it seemed to. I’m sure I clicked on it and double checked that it actually went to the band page – ie: that it wasn’t some bogus duplicate account and I was pinning so much on something so … stupid.

I even saved the bloody notification I got because at the end of it, this is still all what it means to me!

But this is where it then has me second-guessing. Later last night, I went back to the post and then I could still see the reaction emoji but it was no longer showing as left by the SM page…

So now I am thinking that, despite my checking, I was taken in by some bogus duplicate account and all my “Care – Kerr” pondering and hopefulness was just me clutching at ever increasing intangible and desperate straws!

Ah, well. There we go. This is a rather sad, ridiculous and pointless post, eh?

And to top it all off, I couldn’t go queuing for 14 hours to get myself a copy of the 5×5 Live vinyl – so I am feeling particularly sorry for myself today.

At least I have Creative Writing study to look forward to again today…yay! 😒☹️ (So far, it is feeling like everything I was dreading. Nothing has changed for me AT ALL about how I would feel when tasked with “writing a story” at school to 40 years down the track…)

EMBRACE THE SUCK!