December 26th, 2006
You might recognise the above from Richard III, or a Steinbeck novel, or something else. You might not recognise it at all. Writing is awfully strange, reading is stranger still. They can be immensely powerful processes, but they can also be just as wonderfully ineffectual.
Someone remarked quite sincerely that I was a person who loved […]
December 4th, 2006
On the night of the 14th May 2004 I was writhing in my bed with an awful stomach ache, full of regret that I had eaten a brown yolked egg. I decided to turn on my Definitive Everly Brothers album I had bought a few days earlier to try and take my mind off it […]