Today it took me two hours to water the garden. It’s true I wanted to be thorough and all, but I’m sure reading a book at the same time had something to do with it.
I probably shouldn’t leave drafts overnight; all the brilliant prose i had just itching to be poured out onto e-paper has somehow been quelled. More of a niggle now, really. Not even worth scratching. What am I saying. eh anyway I read A Wrinkle in Time, because kids books are always superior. Far superior. And they have such straightforward yet absolutely essential and resonant messages. Love conquers all. Well, I guess that’s no surprise.
Anyway, like I think I said earlier, this “writing” business is really just giving me a shoddy excuse to regurgitate songs I’m liking immensely off triple j at the present time. Expect more on this unhealthy fixation in the posts to come.
Here we go; straight out of New York, I present to you the fantastic pants of MS MR (whom I so devastatingly missed at Laneway [I realise that implies I was there; I wish that were true. I really do.])
and even better: