Dean Whitbread 2020
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Here we go, here we go, there we went, and only ten more days to run Blog of Funk as a funky blog-like blogging thing in it’s current form. Maybe I should just call the new phase “Blog of Funk 3.0” and be done with it. But, not to be called slack in the wanting department, and considerably weighed down by my anticipation of release, I feel the burden of expectation growing in those around me who know my plans, as if my gaolers resent my escape whilst they remain (albeit paid) in their positions, watching over the remaining social media slaves as they work their time in penance for unimaginably awful past crimes.
Do you remember school punishments? I sometimes feel as if some low-rank teacher with no taste for inculcation has condemned me to write lines of my own endless invention. On a good day, it’s faintly amusing, on a bad day, it makes my brain hurt. And Love! Peace! Contentment! A wistful dream somewhere on a coconut beach, a million miles from home.