i was lying face down on my bed, exhausted by the utterly dreadful business of existing and wondering if my time would be better spent procrastinating there like a nasty pink blancmange or in making a tower of all my belongings and setting it alight, when it came to me in a flash of total boredom that relaxation is never relaxing, i would be better off just getting up and facing the musics- to the tune of- i am here to make things and really the only way you can do this is to start, not worry about not doing it. i mean look at my hands, they are all fingers
