Thoughts On Turning 43.

I felt sad to let go of being 42 as, at the very least, I felt important thanks to Douglas Adams and his meaning of life.


Saint Val Is Pregnant.

We, my family and I are standing on the threshold of something we can’t rightly fathom. It is bracing. There is colour in our cheeks. We are waiting to begin.

Age And The Ease Of Creating.

If what I attempted was not the highest of art, then folk would see through the cracks and realise what a complete piece of shit I was. That I was a faker. That I was actually hollow of purpose, worth and talent.

A Life Less Ordinary.

While writing is usually considered a wise and earthly pursuit, it actually revolves around sitting in your underpants while typing and spurning life completely.

Turning 42.

The shock of entering your forties has been and gone and the horror of entering your fifties is far enough away as to be attributable to someone else.

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