Wow. I have an audience. One person in Germany knows I went to the pub.

Well, there lies a rather ironic beginning to this blog. Born in a spare 15 minutes from the disatisfaction of another long week at work ending with very little else done.

What Rott? Well our minds are decaying. At least mine is. Yours is probably quite agile, seeing as you're enquiring and open enough to read what promises to be affable bullshit in the pursuit of entertainment.

Days of MY life skittle past in a flurry of coffee-slurpings, awkward conversations, scratchings, stretchings, waitings, swearings, yawnings and general cheerful mundanity.

Mostly, just being busy with the above is enough to fill my days, but just occasionally I'm provoked to wonder what ACTUALLY happened to that mind I had. And then a little worry appears. What of Coleridge's 'beauties and feelings'?

It seems a lot of history's great people have had a good old flourish by the time they hit 25. Heck, if you're a poet you should be burnt out and dying of syphillis by the age of 26 - a damn cheek otherwise.

I HAVE written a book (by hand, and I cannot write it up lest I am forced to admit I spent 4 years writing utter dross) and a crock of strangley (read inaccurately) structured poetry (actually just read lazy) - all the product of some urgent need to express, understand and moreover to damn well preserve the sheer arrogant certainty of those moments.

The only problem is that EVERYTHING changes. How could that cheeky little Keats have made up his mind so damn well before he scampered to his early grave. What if he'd lived in this day and age, and instead of dying, got a job writing commercials instead? Would he have been so eloquent then?

I'm just interested in where we get our ideas and why history... nay, anybody dead... has just a little more credibility. What if they weren't done yet? What if things were meant to be a different way?

Perhaps all I'm getting at tonight is that...

1) I'm quite hungover and talking bull poo
2) Everything changes, always
3) But it's still probably worth preserving moments
4) Already, the start of this sorry little wafflepile is history. You've probably taken some of it on board and created another little piece of internal history.
5) Publishing history? Publishing opinion? That's committment. It takes committment and it takes a little arrogance. Both of which are useful. Especially if you're a confused mid-twenties woman with a default self-doubt mode, a job that takes up 12 hours a day and a life that takes up the rest.

Oh, and it's important to say, that if you read this thinking it was going on a downer, it's not. I find nothing funnier and more absurd than the ordinary, everything mundanity of my own good self. Usefully I also have a tendency towards the ridiculous and slapstick, so hopefully you shall be entertained at my expense, and thus no expense shall be wasted.