12 years is not a long time to live, but I've slept rough, at the feet of a wino, under a desk laden with books and wires, corks and bottles. In a box with strangers I've been waiting. . . I still smell of blackcurrant and herbs and the warmth of my birth year is obvious. But I've grown soft and enveloping and in my readiness to please and be pleased, I've lost my corset of tannins and the parts that were once tight have started to wobble.Razlyubit - The Russian word for love that has now stopped. Just ask any failing politician with poor opinion polls what it feels like. That feeling that you can do no right and all your flaws and badly received attempts at reaching out become a source of loathing, pity and annoyance.
2 comments:
Hi Ed. Thanks for sharing the bottle with us. :) Love the writing on your blog.
Vince,
It was nice to catch up with you and Caroline and Tara. Your site looks wonderful. It seems to confirm my suspicion that we all need a pocket of obsession to stay sane!
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