One step closer and you are a dead woman...
One step closer and you are a dead
woman....
Yep. It's time to get out and about.
I give myself TWO more days in reflective "hibernation" mode and then it's up,
over
and out. Back out into the big wide world. Over to Mecca will be my first stop
for Arsenal v Everton. We appear to be on a good run so I pray for a sweet
result and some large smiles from the crew. I best apologise for being a misery
guts in the last few days. It's unlike me to be so narky but I think from time
to time it becomes necessary to lie low and feel sorry for ones self. After all,
you could wait forever
for anybody else to.
Out of the most low of lows often comes
an extraordinary high or a breakthrough of some sort and I am feeling it. Even though I still have a cold I can
feel myself ready for a good stint which I best hurry up on as that horrid
overrated month shall be upon me soon, the one where everybody rushes about wasting money
and hibernating. Not being religious, I only enjoy the little party run up to
Christmas before the streets are deserted and grim weather descends. Last year I
went to India, this year who knows. It's a choice between the Maldives, Mystique
and Morocco. If my empty bank account has a say in the matter then it could be
nowhere. Sniff.
No. I came to realise something
really important this morning. It got me out of bed in a good way. It's that I'm not actually searching
for anything like I think
I am sometimes. Everything is here. I am really happy. When I make music and when
I paint and when I am true to myself. When I am honest with myself and I don't
entertain other people's opinions of what I do or look like or say, I am really
happy. I make music that I really Love. I wear outfits that I enjoy. I feel
wonderful. Some days I
sit in meetings or I go talking about record deals and press and shoot ideas and
other people's opinions on how I should sound or look or what I should sing
about and how I should dress who I should play with and blah blah blah blah, the list
goes on.... Sometimes I come away all irritated or confused and occasionally intimidated. How daft is that!
You can actually forget sometimes
that nobody else is in control of you or what you sing or wear or do, you are. I
am. I am I, and you, you are you. And if no f***er else liked or was interested in
I or you then they wouldn't follow us about trying to get us to submit to
their idea of who we are or who they might like us to be. Erm, if you catch my
drift. Most people who tell you these things, lets face it, if you bothered to
study in detail what they looked or sounded like or created, if anything, you would
probably find they are more than likely to be entirely dull characters themselves.
SO. The need to judge or pick on you or what you do.
Theory for today then. Do what you like,
when you like, however and with whoever you like at any cost, but to yourself. I've got my own
limits but I am going to be true to myself. Anybody who tells you to do
otherwise is quite possibly a moron. Now don't go blaming me if you follow this
and get the sack or have a break up... :-P
Right, quick brandy in the pub with
my pink Pat Butcher Mac it is. See you later on. XXXX.
