Tripe

I don't know what drives me to do things. I never know that, and the reason I say this is that I am listening to Leonard Cohen, Suzanne, a song that I love,and one that has so many memories attached to it. So why did i suddenly get the urge to write? I literally have nothing that I want to say. Many people think about our lenny, as i am sure no-one calls him to his face, as a dreary and depressing singer, whose songs are best taken with plenty of razor blades. Ok he tends towards the melancholy on occasions and yes i confess that I am feeling a little that way today, but that is ok and i know that by the time i have finished the first bottle of wine all will be different.

I spent a part of today designing a christmas card of all things. That could account for a lot. The only reason i do it is because most of the cards we send are so bloody awful, i get embarrassed to send them. Oddly I don't get embarrassed sending out my own designs but I try not to include the usual hypocritical and insincere crap that i associate with this time of year. My greetings are succinct and yes i do wish my friends well and hope that they have a happy 25th of december, but not just that day. What is so bloody special about one day in the year?

Len is now singing so long Marianne, he does it so well and his pain is so easy to feel. Only a man in real agony could write a song like that. Ironic isn't it that I should only have happy memories associated with him.