Some days are flat. Today was flat. I’m going to go to bed
feeling flat, and I don’t like feeling flat.
Nothing enthuses me and so I have nothing to say. I’m
waiting for an e-mail from America, I’m waiting for a book from Amazon, I’m waiting
for a publisher to tell me when they’re finally going to get around to
publishing this damn magazine, I’m waiting for somebody to decide whether I’m
worth calling on or not, I’m waiting for the wind to rise and fill the sails
again. Maybe tomorrow. Come back tomorrow.
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