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Dunno, what does it look like?
Disappointment is, as I’ve long suspected, oval-shaped.
This particular disappointment isn’t too saddening for me, though, because he’s been dead to me since the 9th September.
It’s as though you’re cupping your hands round your eyes, pretending to use a pair of binoculars. I was going to say it’s like staring through a post box but they don’t have ovals.
Thinking back, every time I was ever disappointed, I was cupping my hands round my eyes in the hope of making it look like I was using binoculars. Maybe if I shook off this persistent longing for ‘noculars I’d be disappointed less often.
It’s motor skills, you can’t help yourself. You’re trying to protect your eyes from the pain of life. You’re shielding yourself, something that I touch upon in my new book due out next year:
You can’t come in (until I open the door of me).
Thanks for the heads up. I’ve ordered a few packs of firelighters off Amazon.
This one has a sexy dust cover and the first five hundred first editions are signed, numbered and sprinkled with paprika.
They’ll smell like posh Pringles when they burn, in that case. What a Christmassy treat!
Wouldn’t you like to turn a corner and actually read one of my books instead of burning them on sight? You my learn something… special.
I flicked through one once before I slung it on the bonfire. It made me gag.
(It’s this level of support that I wonder how we’ve been friends all these years).
Never mind, mate. You tried, mate. That’s all that matters, mate.
I did try. I did more than enough. Sometimes I think you need to start pulling your weight in this so-called friendship.
I’ve never pulled anything in my life and I’m not going to start here.
*dances to Human League*
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