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I never really left but I'm back too.
Greetings my fellow inventive bandicoots.
The last few years I've been trying quite strenuously to be a grown up.
After much deliberation I have come to the conclusion that, you know what?, fuck that, we're all going to die anyway.
It was all so seductive, family life, leaning heavily on my partner, doing paid gigs when they turned up, returning home, skiing through the winter, not being driven every morning by the fact I only had three cigarettes left to go out and rustle up some liquidity.
And after nearly 20 years a man deserves a break, but you know, actually, no.
It's taken me a few years to conclude that I simply cannot be rehabilitated, that the hybrid, aspiring middle class, biologically middle aged martin is a sham, a pale echo of an individual who used to be impressively alive.
Mid life crisis? Two words, Fuck You!
I've always been somewhere between 17 and 26 since before I was 17 and well after 26.
I've grown tired of trying to fit in, of entering the framework provided for me by others.
But I do need you people, I've always needed you people, you are the only people who know what it's like to be the object of that focus and laughter that on those rare perfect days, in those rare perfect moments makes you more than whole, that makes you a master of the universe.
[and then you count your money and abuse your liver and the fucking beat goes on, but I think I have a handle on that]
I need a corner people. Please give me a corner, help me find what I need.
I'll make it worth your while by making you, the people who make others laugh, laugh.
Cos that's my singular gift. Well, the writings a gift too I suppose.
That's the thing, I've been trawling through the archives here and it saddens me to see what I've become.
I sit in the tropics and subsist on my beans and rice and fiddle with my book and search for shitty little demeaning manual jobs to pay my rent and purchase my beans and rice.
What a fucking husk am I.
Jester came back yesterday and I was all, 'try to be good'
What a fucking joke.
I liked it much better when I was angry and bitter and funny and arrogant and dangerous to fuck with .
So yeah I'm back.
The last few years I've been trying quite strenuously to be a grown up.
After much deliberation I have come to the conclusion that, you know what?, fuck that, we're all going to die anyway.
It was all so seductive, family life, leaning heavily on my partner, doing paid gigs when they turned up, returning home, skiing through the winter, not being driven every morning by the fact I only had three cigarettes left to go out and rustle up some liquidity.
And after nearly 20 years a man deserves a break, but you know, actually, no.
It's taken me a few years to conclude that I simply cannot be rehabilitated, that the hybrid, aspiring middle class, biologically middle aged martin is a sham, a pale echo of an individual who used to be impressively alive.
Mid life crisis? Two words, Fuck You!
I've always been somewhere between 17 and 26 since before I was 17 and well after 26.
I've grown tired of trying to fit in, of entering the framework provided for me by others.
But I do need you people, I've always needed you people, you are the only people who know what it's like to be the object of that focus and laughter that on those rare perfect days, in those rare perfect moments makes you more than whole, that makes you a master of the universe.
[and then you count your money and abuse your liver and the fucking beat goes on, but I think I have a handle on that]
I need a corner people. Please give me a corner, help me find what I need.
I'll make it worth your while by making you, the people who make others laugh, laugh.
Cos that's my singular gift. Well, the writings a gift too I suppose.
That's the thing, I've been trawling through the archives here and it saddens me to see what I've become.
I sit in the tropics and subsist on my beans and rice and fiddle with my book and search for shitty little demeaning manual jobs to pay my rent and purchase my beans and rice.
What a fucking husk am I.
Jester came back yesterday and I was all, 'try to be good'
What a fucking joke.
I liked it much better when I was angry and bitter and funny and arrogant and dangerous to fuck with .
So yeah I'm back.
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