well,here we go.mundee aggen.

just crawled out of the pit,
feeling like shit,
aching like stink,
and i'm tired.
man am i tired.

counting on my porridge,
and a shower,
to kick-start the old engine.

y'know?
this eatbourne-gig,
i imagine going there,
getting within twenty metres of the drop,
and it just drawing me to the edge,
like some inextricable magnetism.

i wonder how tall it is.
maybe at beachy,
the fear of not being killed outright,
doesn't apply.
anyway,
well see.
maybe i shall get there.
maybe not.

lying in bed,
not fully awake,
thinking of stickie.
it's NOT a sex-thing,
well,
it is and it isn't.
it WILL pass.
it just would be so nice to have somebody sometimes.
just to feel the touch of a woman,
y'know?
just lots of canoodling,naked in bed.
happy days.
and maybe i really am,
just a dirty old cnut.
and i really should go of those thoughts.


anyway,
that's enough of my shit.
ought to get a shave i suppose.

erixter wrote:
this eastbourne-gig,
i imagine going there,
getting within twenty metres of the drop,
and it just drawing me to the edge,
like some inextricable magnetism.

i wonder how tall it is.
maybe at beachy,
the fear of not being killed outright,
doesn't apply.
anyway,
well see.
maybe i shall get there.
maybe not.

maybe.
i don't think i have the balls to do that.
and actually,
i think you have to be slightly mad.
driven to it.

feeling lethargic.
will be okay when i get to work.
funny how it all kicks in.