Death comes for us all (a melodramatic haiku of retirement)
Alas! this blog is
no longer where it is at.
Onwards! (Back to home.)



guts and garters

It's all fun and games until someone loses molecular cohesion.

Friday, January 30, 2004

It's that point where you realise, staring at the never-meeting parallel lines on the notepaper, that everything you were about to write is just a long sequence of same-old cliches - the sound of the phone shattered the silence, he froze with the glass halfway to his lips - and any way you try to write it will just sound like you're trying to avoid the same-old cliches. There is no new way of saying anything that isn't in some way a cliche, and that's a cliche in itself.

Who'd be a writer, eh?

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