Hmm. Kiss announced a secret show this morning at the Islington Academy. It's going to be a killer - and I have a ticket set aside. I should be bouncing off the walls but I can't figure out how on earth I'm going to make it work as that's one of my nights with Rhiannon and Ellie. We should be going swimming and doing homework... I've run out of people to even think of helping out. It's turned into some horrible John Hughes movie plot whereby I take them with me and leave them in the car with a packet of crisps and a coke each and dive out between songs to make sure they are still there. There is no doubt in my mind that were this to happen and high jinx prevailed, that they would be saved by Paul and Gene just before things get completely out of hand and we would all drive off into the Islington sunset to Shout It Out Loud playing on the stereo.
I wonder if the sun ever sets in Islington.
Talking of secret things, I have begun to secretly put a set-list together with a teeny-tiny eye on maybe starting to play again. Nothing huge, half a dozen songs at most. I can't handle the heartache of anything more serious than that at the moment but the intent is there. I'm not sure if it ever really went away. Maybe I buried it under 100 blankets.
Not the greatest of days today. Despite a Percy Jackson size attempt to stay King of the World, I have to admit, I'm pretty down on in it today. I know it's bad because I have made Eleanor sad and not even the thought of a Kiss show is cheering me up.
I don't want to go to that shitty dark place again. It's taken such a long time to get out of it. Normal fall-back position of smoking as many cigarettes as possible has disappeared - not quite sure what to hang on to.
Does anybody else have days as bleak as this?
Not in the mood for writing anymore today so have switched mind to a different channel - thinking of a name for my non-existent band and toying with whether or not to include This Is How A Heart Breaks (Rob Thomas) in my set list.
Grrrr.
