Dean Whitbread 2020
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Let me tell you now: this is not easy. It takes a lot of concentration and I have to keep regular hours, eat well, get lots of sleep, and have excellent sex all the time, just to keep it going.
This is not a plea for sympathy, but I decided in my moment of drizzled oil over tulips that I was being too smart for my heart and I should let the instinct out of my pants. By this I do not wish to imply a desire beyond the natural, but simply a burning need to be real.
Anyway, now that’s off my chest, I want to welcome you to the second half of the year with a decision. When I know what that decision is, I shall certainly pass it on. And as for my apparent disassociated state, pay no attention. It is a ruse, for a reason. My ability to string apparently logical sentences together will see me through these truculent times. Life is boody.
Tell you what, London is damn hot. I celebrated the solstice for two days, then woke up this morning and wrote a song.