Stop Whispering. Start Shouting.

My therapist asked me why I kept talking about B.

Thus, it became apparent, I had reduced to irrepressible boredom, the person I pay – a lot of money – to listen to me.  I tried to explain that I needed to offload after having internalised my obsession for so long … but then I felt guilty, as though I’d been admonished, and cried on the train home.  Even my therapist is running out of patience and doesn’t want to hear about B anymore.

So now I need a wider audience.  Hello world!

(re: Radiohead)


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