it has occured to me in the week that has followed Future Music Festival that; Blogs are like babies. atleast mine is, this week i have felt nothing short of a neglective parent. Its like a couple of days of missing posts and your half way to feeling like you've forgotten to pick your child up from school or worse send out a few of those thoughtless spacefilling posts and its like you've sent your child packing with a lunchbox full of packet processed crap instead of a fresh homemade sandwich.
usually i drive around thinking of words in rhythms and motions to write in my blog. usually words just fall out of my mouth, and i'd come to take this with the proverbial grain of salt;estar escéptico. therefore, it is a sigh of relief to have woken up this morning with a ditty poem half crossing somewhere between dreamland and my pillow.
this week i dedicate to those in life whose braincells are more whitty than my own, who am i kidding? the whittiest of the lot and nothing close to being as boring as a boiled egg; which is what i have felt for the past week. not nessecarily non-fictional, because how well do we ever really know reality? ari gold, kanye west, carrie bradshaw, the list is endless, but ive just awoken so give me some credit for a post-future entry.
mojo is now present tense, we got it back from the future.
with love, M