We lock ourselves in empty rooms in order to communicate. Sick bastards are we.
I'm writing. It feels like this. You know what I mean.
There's nothing for it but to gut it out.
I hope your writing occurs in the warm company of 20 sycophants. It's bloody lonely here.
2 comments:
I can totally see where you're coming from...but at this point in summer vacation where I'm working on a couple of deadlines in the presence of two children (well, a 16 year old and a child)...think I'm ready for some Boston library...ha! I wrote at a swimming pool yesterday so that I could entertain my daughter and her friend. I was, somehow, the only person at the pool with a notebook...
it seems that I want what I do not have. Desire peace and quiet - have people around. Locked in isolation mode - desire people.
I have ice cream, I just want more ice cream. I don't have ice cream - i want ice cream. So much much easier.
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