It's weird, but I feel like I want to sit here an write for the whole night. I want to tell you all everything. I'm beginning to understand the strange compulsion of the blogger to pour out everything within themself. Just being here, at the keyboard, engenders some sort of need to relate. To tell someone.
I feel like screaming and shouting and laughing, and like being quiet. Clearly a confused mind. G'night, then, I'm off to watch the snooker and write more bad poetry with a pen that I've had for years now.