Watching a play that I started writing with my friend-come-colleague-come-housemate about a year and a half ago, and finished five months ago, take place in full colour and detail in a real theatre space.

Hearing the wild variety of comments and compliments about it all, wondering how much we are the better for our foes than our friends in this respect.

Wanting to write another play people like.

Enjoying taking a whole day to get up.

Spending time on making myself look how I want to.

Aspiring to do things that I feel are well within my capabilities but somehow seem out of reach.

Thinking about mirrors.


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