ok ok ok. It's all ok. I finally wrote yesterday. Before yesterday I hadn't written for over a month and it was fucking me up. Yesterday was a 12 hour work day. But I wrote. And listened to punk music really loud. and realised what matters. my writing. and love. love matters. love/zest/curiousity.
I am aiming for Dublin at the beginning of next year. I gotta find a home/base in an English speaking country. I also need to find a community of English speaking poets and artists. Damn. how many times have i wrote that on this blog!!!
Today is a light teaching day. I am going back to my flat to shit and write.
I will have a new flat next month with a teacher from Canada named Todd.
I am almost finished with Godzeenie. My writing yesterday should wrap up my Polish manuscript.
Now I just need to work on getting a home for a while and sending out work. I should have internet in September again for a few months.
Yes. Writing is not a fucking hobby. It's a fucking addiction. I need the high.
Is it healthy? I dunno. But too late to turn back now. Can't live without it!