There is only one real way for me to treat me.
Chocolate, crisps, cake don't fit
I hate being chubby and feeling heavy
this makes me sing and walk and see
As for cunt or cock, the grass is always
much greener. She holds and pushes
but never shoves.
Oh to be in love with something that has a pulse. It has life when its growing, hands and needs. It responds too, warping wiry roots around me dreams and my consciousness. I see where I am and the almost infinite places I could be going to. Free
to stand back, breeze in, stretch out my sides
Its going to take about a year!!..
If im lucky. I think fiction I write me in third person, I think me I write about WWII partisans. Its about the writing not the story, I can do that, they grow and I know how to grow them. I don't want to start without something historical, it can simmer in that back ground but I don't want it to take over my whole brain.
Novel - let Gibbons twist up inside me till I puke out all the dreichness and the corruption. Chapter 1. Shrink/ public transport thats all
History - War music - LET IT START