Cycles – like a fucking bike with really big wonky wobbly wheels – I have the insane idea of controlling it, despite the fact that I haven’t even got a grip of the handle bars. I’m falling and I know it but the energy just keeps surging inside and I simply have to do something with it. I need projects, I need ideas, In fact they are great ideas and I need to see them come to life – large as life. Yeah! Someone has to be in control. If it’s not me then it’s got to be someone I can trust. But who can I trust? What happens when they fuck me over? What happens when I fuck them over? What happens when I think they are in control but they really have got no control? What happens when they assume I am in control and I have completely lost the plot? It’s too much to think about so I just have to make sure I maintain control and that everyone else around me is in control too. I’m exhausted I just have to go to bed. I can’t sleep my head is exploding with thoughts and I can’t get them filed in my head quickly enough so I get up and I grab a pad and pen and takes notes and then I realise I need to file them into some kind of order so I will understand it all in the morning otherwise it will confuse the hell out of me. Oh it’s morning but I need to get some sleep. Jump into bed at 4am – what is it about 4am that is the best time in the world to go to bed. Sleep is solid until 7 am and now I know I need to get up and do all the stuff I wrote about last night but the notes aren’t in the right order and I am sure I had them in order. The other notes are just garbage – no idea what I was thinking. Throw them out. Actually I’m a piece of shit and none of this stuff is any good. Nobody wants to know what a middle aged ‘thinks she’s a writer’ has to say about anything. Seriously get a grip Donna. Just give it up and get your shit together and go and get a real job and get the fuck over yourself. Take your meds too – you’re a bitch without them and everyone is sick of you being tired and depressed and cranky. When you’re not being tired and depressed you expect everyone to be as excited as you are about the next big fucking thing – another idea – another venture. GET. THE. FUCK. OVER. YOURSELF. SHUT UP! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP. I am exhausted.