Yesterday spent in mad rush, what with the newspaper, the mum, rehearsing theater, foraging. Directionality in question: So many pretty lights, which holds meaning? Which thing(s) is/are imminently doable, for a poor boy like me? Writing, certainly. Even there, more ideas than a head can manage. Life in a mad waterfall rush: And I can't wait to bob in the pool at the bottom for a serene moment. It's hard to refocus when the world won't stop its mad spinning for even one second, wot? Where is the bloody brake?!
Oh, boo hoo.
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