Kerplunk!

I believe it falls within the realm of propriety to wish people until about mid - January anyway, so I DO hope the year brings you whatever you may desire, or not, if like me, you like to keep your distance from objects of fantasy so that delicious veneer of perfection never wears off them.

Not that I didn't have the time of my life bringing the year in, but there isn't that much that's new about it, really. I still use too many commas and write self indulgent prose. I have decided to start answering my phone this year though - mainly because I am tired of being emotionally blackmailed by people (which incidentally, is my no. 1 reason for not picking up in the first place) but also because I need to Get Real and stop being a space cadet.

But, returning to the self indulgent prose, I've been scribbling this one on and off for the past few days so I decided to put an excerpt here. Be gentle.


"Deep within a space time continuum that existed within the philosopher's mind, lived a princess trapped in an ivory tower. So high was the tower, that eagles alone befriended her. Them, and an Extraordinary Golden east that fed on love and fresh air.
Every time the moon waxed, the eagles would fly down to earth and bring the princess a young man for company; as they knew young women of a certain age must learn the rites of love.
The princess's room was a hall of smoke and mirrors. Anyone who entered would be entranced at once by their own reflection, and so cunningly lit up against the bare brilliance of the sky, would believe themselves to be Gods. They loved the princess for the image of their selves that they saw with her, and standing beside them, each loved her as a different reflection of himself. Him in female form. To each, she was a different person.

A cynic.

An incurable romantic.

A whore.

A mother.

A fool.


And each, upon his return to the earth, would tell a different story. A memory of her that was carefully airbrushed like the pictures of women in beauty magazines. Blurred to fit. Faults dusted over. Statistics exaggerated. All in preparation for that single moment when it would be presented to an audience - a roomful of drunken friends, a jealous bride, an excited brother.

The princess in the mean time, watched on, confused. The eagles were worried. When would this end?"