I don´t mind having a cold as long as I´m being cuffed and used.
Writing, as I´m sure you all know, can be a real bitch. For me, it´s like this: I start writing something and maybe initially it´s good. Fresh. New. Then I continue and I fiddle and I polish and it sort of dies in my hands. Like it´s only good before I´m tamed by what I´m doing, when everything´s wild and new. Conclusion: I will never be a true writer! I´m only good (goodish?) when I improvise! Leavemeleavemeleaveme! No, stay! And forgive my short-comings.
The dilemma: I did not raise you to tell lies, young lady!
The possible answers:
This is the truth.
I´m merely bending reality.
I´m telling a story.
I. Will. Not. Feel. Sorry. For. Myself. I have health food house love.
This you need to hear. Please chose ”Flight 69”. F*ck Force Five Welcome to Sweden, darlings =)