Greasy pasties and other foibles

I am shattered.

Greasy pasties and instant coffee kept me awake though the bleary dawn. But my body is spent. Not enough sleep, too many hours awake, but even those waking hours just merge into senselessness.

Since May, I have been working like a donkey. Actually, to be honest, since I came back from India last year I have been working like a donkey.

Cash has been slipping through my hands at an astonishing rate. I have been packing money away, but over the past three months, nothing has been saved. Filming, cars and now a motorcycle is going to take or has taken everything out of my hands.

But then again, I suppose this is what happens if you want but do not want debt.

So while the days and nights slip into one endless stream of adventures in South London, it becomes a bit shocking when I cannot recall exactly when events took place. For instance, it is shocking for me to think that it has been less than a month since I wrappped up filming on my short film Irfan. Since then I have had success and dismay from my beloved Caution Wet Paint, but thankfully, I am at last off to a festival in September.

But yes, as the caffeine from 5am this morning begins to wear off, I will try to snatch a few hours sleep, before the process begins again later on this evening.

That pasty was rough by the way, but it kept me alive…

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