Lights Go Down

Sometimes I think I forget that I haven't been doing this very long. Windows was published in February this year. And it was this time last year that Angelicsounds and I were debating what to put up on Literotica. It's now become so intrinsic to my nature to come home and write, to have full conversations with my characters, sometimes out loud and I have to pretend I'm talking into my phone. Seriously, I've been sprung like a mental patient.

There are days when I'll be cooking like Gina's right next to me and I'll get a hug from Nick for doing his favourite. Tony will generally always poke me in the side and demanding I listen to his insane theories. I've had Ryan tickling my feet and for me to go to the Portrait Gallery. Efia and Rhys are the bad influences when it comes to cupcakes. Oreo is their deal and therefore it should also be mine. Sofia will nod at a dress on ASOS that Courtney thought would suit me because I should look like a bit of a ho once in a while or no one will feel the ladies. Kamilah will hold my hand when I walk home under the scattering of orange and red leaves of the park and yammers away about Novak's mural and the tips it gives. Eva will always remind me to make sure that shadow is just that. A shadow and nothing more. Then when I'm done checking, I should have Gabriel play me a song. Massimo tells me that he's lonely. Rocky wants to introduce someone to his nonna. Luca desperately some peace. Beppe is crazy. Oh god, that dude is so crazy, I'll have to tell you about that one day. Auden doesn't want to be what he's been made to be and Helena wishes she could spend her life dancing in a forest with a bewitching man under the moonlight. Because of these wonderful and certifiable people, I rarely spent a minute alone. When I'm feeling like there are little hammers on the inside of my skull, I do wish they'd be bloody quiet.

This moaning is supposed to be a general apology for being all round lame. On the other hand, I am going out getting inspiration for what comes next, so you say I'm being rubbish, I say I'm researching. With prosecco. And pretty men. All in the name of my art. Honest guvnor!