i dunno. it's all got very weird again, for a change, as usual.
i got asked to write a couple of things that i didn't really want to do. one was a misogynistic tract, which isn't very good and which i didn't enjoy at all, though i think Vita was pleased with it (it's on her site somewhere, i think), and one was a theatre review that completing honestly meant there was no choice but to compose a vicious attack on the writer. or so i felt when i wrote it anyway.
i regret both. the theatre review was so awful i can't believe i wrote it. i am trying to write a letter of apology to the woman but am finding it hard to do. i can't believe they printed it. i'd tell you where they printed it but i don't want you to read it. i don't want anyone to read it.
it is horrible, and it has taught me a lesson. the lesson is that you are responsible for the things you write and not everything is web text, where you really can say what you like.
i looked at the paper and thought 'what little shit wrote this?' knowing it was me. with my fucking name on it. argh. what the fuck was i thinking when i submitted that?
the only mitigating thing is that the piece is so nasty that the barbs don't really work. you are left with the impression of someone unable to distinguish between their views on a given play and their bitterness about the fact that they themselves have not been 'successful' as a writer.
not only this, but i finally tracked down my old friend Stefan a few days ago. i never knew him that well, but we got drunk together every night for a year when i was in Jerusalem, and he was far and away one of the most awe-inspiring people i have ever met.
i should probably stop drinking heavily in his honour now, though.
omigod