A quick review to say that Waiting For Godot with Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart was faultless, perfect theatre. Two old friends, playing two old friends; you could taste the genuine affection. I'd never seen the play before and I don't think I would ever see it again because no one could top that.
A perfect trip to Edinburgh there and back in the day. A lovely end to the Easter holidays.
And yet, on my way back, as the sun set, I wrote these words:
"I am deeply unhappy, deeply disconsolate. I am trapped in a world I don't care for and I don't believe in. I live with a constant underlying anxiety. I want to be free of this empty self-pity."
Today I would add that only when I run and only when I cum do I feel untethered and free. Hence my addiction to both.
But this can't be good. Can it?
