new world

I worked for years at University Hospital in London. So did my mOm. The joint’s now closed from top to bottomus due to COVID.

Meshugas regarding UPSUN briefly cleared up. Now I should probably prep and print the last two manuscripts in readiness for when I get asked for them.

I am officially going to be too busy to cause trouble for the next little while.

Moloch poem is now three chapters long. It will need brutal amounts of rewrites and editing.

Practiced, put laundry away, finished the letter to mOm.

insanity, the gift that keeps on giving

A couple of things got straightened out today and in consequence my mood’s considerably lighter.

If Jeff or I say in future that we ‘elsewhere wendeth’ you can pretty much be assured we’re either hitting the head or fixing to die. (It’s a Time Team reference.)

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did I die laughing reading this, ALMOST but not quite.

I’m starting to mail photocopy art and crafted paper to people, I’m obviously losing my mind.

I have started a long poem called The Dark Book; it’s a meditation on Moloch and it’s going to be really dark and ugly and written like a spell book or scriptures. It’s going to be at least thirty pages long, quite dense, possibly longer. I don’t need another project but it’s a really great place to put my anger about a certain show ending.

my last public words on the subject

updated 25 nov

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I told Jeff that watching Supernatural was like having an abusive boyfriend for 4 years (I only started watching late in 2016)

If I’m posting word counts in future it won’t be for fanfic.

Somebody made a canonical list of all the queer people that were killed in the show

I called it.

I was wrong about it being Jensen’s fault, but everything else I got right.

Happy endings are for chumps.

But hey, don’t take my word for it, the aggregators are speaking!:

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