So basically, he hates accomplishing things. That's great.
I set out to write a play for a contest in the two weeks after I got out of performing in a show before the deadline. This is proving a taxing process - not because I'm terribly busy, but simply because most of my day is spent doing other things (working, among others) and feeling bad that I'm not working on the play right then.
Add to that the sinking feeling that Lady Rose is right about this play -
(of course she is)
- and I'm in a sort of creative whirlwind with a solid core of mope. I can't wait for the busy to subside so the mope can fully surface.
Yes, folks, he really is this addicted to melancholy. No wonder he's a writer. Sheesh.
For your viewing pleasure: my self portrait.
Why do I blother?
3 comments:
whoa. That is a remarkable likeness.
huh. you sit on a pink chair eh? that certainly answers alot of question I had...
I wish I had a pink chair. Imagine, all the things one could do, while sitting on a pink chair!
Like, say, update their blogs!
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