“YOU SAID YOU WOULD POST A LOVE SONG.”
“YOU HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN BLOGGING.”
“YOU SAID YOU WOULD DO ALL THESE THINGS FOR THE LAST YEAR OF EARTHLY THINGS . . .”
I know. I’ve been busy working on one of those things – my applications for grad school. The first one is off, hooray! I’m now working on the second, which is an application for a Masters in Creative Writing. I have one week to finish writing a 35 page portfolio of fiction and a statement of intention and to organise academic letters of reference. I have about 15 pages to go and a shit tonne of editing. I’T IMPOSSIBLE. IT’S NOT LONG ENOUGH. YOU ARE GOING TO DIE. Shutup! I hate you cynical me! I know it’s impossible! I know I can’t shit gold! But I’ve got to try, goddamn it! I’m going to hand in 35 pages of something if it fucking kills me. Maybe it will be finger-painting but I’m going to do it.
So yeah. I’ve been spending every day in my salon, writing. I’ve been writing about this guy who wakes up in a room with no windows and no doors. I can’t recommend sitting in the same room every day and writing about a guy who goes mad because he can’t get out of a room.
Still got a bunch of posts planned as soon as this is over.
15 pages to go.
Wish me luck.