I'm Quite Introverted But I'm Not Shy.

Although Will Never Love Anyone Again, Don't Want To Become Bitter. Or Creative.

I Used To Write In Bed, Starting When I Woke Up. I Believe That Creative Work Comes From Our Subconscious Mind, So I Try To Keep The Gap Between Sleep And Writing As Minimal As Possible.

The Back Windows Looked Out Over The Fields, Then The Atlantic, Maybe A Hundred Yards Away. Actually, I'm Just Making That Bit Up. I Had No Idea How Far Away The Sea Was. Only Men Could Do Things Like That. "half A Mile." "fifty Yards." Giving Directions, That Sort Of Thing. I Could Look At A Woman And Say "thirty-six C." Or "let's Try It In The Next Size Up." But I Had No Idea How Far Away Tim's Sea Was Except That I Wouldn't Want To Walk To It In High Heels.

I Sighed. "what Is Life But Fleeting Moments Of Happiness Strung Together On Necklace Of Despair?

Waiting To Be 'better' Is The Wrong Approach. It's Learning To Live With It.