Late at night

Having read blogs for a long time I thought I should begin one of my own and late at night, sitting in my attic, is just the right time to start. The albino geckoes look down at me and then go off to do gecko things like murder small insects and have noisy sex sessions. No wonder there are lots of babies around.

Writing this gives me a break from trying to sort out debts. They'll still be there in half an hour, they'll still be there when I die no doubt. Everyone I know worries themselves sick about money, is that what our lives are supposed to revolve around? We worry ourselves sick about the subject, life never seems more than trying to make ends meet. How dreary. What we need is to be surrounded with flowers, not by bills. We should lean forward and sniff the delicate petals, not shuffle the bits of paper from one unpaid pile to another. And so it goes on, year after year.

I shall have to post again quickly and write about happy things. Why? Good question, why indeed should I only write about happy things? There are many happy things in my life but I think it is time to obsess about the miserable things.