Take a break


So fed up of giving myself deadlines…for what?
No one is reading!!!
Went for a superb blast up the middle road then across to Yarmouth to watch the sunset. I forgot that up there the view is over the New Forest, beautiful. I did ponder living up that way but…
I found myself mulling ideas for murder/thriller/psycho stuff but also just made observations on life, the way the boats rocked, the nature of my illness, you know the sort of stuff.
I didn’t even try to write today. It’s worth forcing a break sometimes. I kept telling myself I should but what I need is a life outside being a writer. I wonder if they’re all as cut off and weird as me? Saying that I began this journey into weird long before I wrote anything but I’ve definitely cut off more lately. The trouble is when I do try to interact with people I realise what F’ing C’s most of them are.
Whateverever…the bike was amazing. I’d go out most days if I had the money. That riding round the highland of Scotland looks good but I think the lakes would be as far north as I’d go now.
Maybe a psycho biker who travels the country killing for fun?
Maybe no more books after this one.
Maybe a proper job, a slow slide into obesity and senility and forget all that stress?


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