Well, I did have a days writing from the old site that I was going to put on here, continuity and that sort of thing, but being an idiot I deleted it. So enjoy a new effort which I wrote the other night...

I'm sat in the common room of the hostel (McMahons, Melbourne, a fine establishment, used to be a brothel/strip-club apperently), after failing to get to sleep I've reasoned that a writing session would be more productive. As fate would have it done, to put me off (almost instantly) some lads from Cornwall (my home county) have just started up conversation, now I know why libraries are useful. I've been in Australia for so long, the Cornish accent seems somewhat amusing again (I haven't heard a good one for years up until now). This is basically because in my home town of Newquay nobody has a Cornish accent. I realise how to the un-informed ear may confuse such a beautiful accent for one of of a drunk, slow and slurred. I feel slighty homesick. And wanting of a beer.

I thought I'd write today, well this morning of the disadvantages of staying up all night drinking tea, smoking cigarettes and talking [the previous and deleted post was written about the joys of socialising late night talking sessions].

It's 2.30am, I feel absolutely no need for sleep, admittedly I haven't been to work today/yesterday (it's my day off, I'm not the type to pull sickies, it's career suicide in catering) so I've only been awake for eleven hours and of these eleven hours I've done fuck all.

I hate sleep deprevation, I've been a bad sleeper for a good ten years now, stemming from a love of live sports in the middle of the night (did you see how I didn't directly associate myself with North American sports? Clever eh?) it has grown into one of my worst habbits. Smoking, I can quit if I choose to (and I have done before, pier pressure, that should be campaigned against) I can happily go days without drinking (I know that's a split-infinitive, like Star Trek 'boldly going', I'm educated you know, I got a bloody A Level in English!!! Excuse my ironic superiority, I only managed a D).

This deprived state of mind also incures rambling writing in writers (or maybe that's just me?) which pretty much seals the deal (bollocks, I'm writing with cliches now!). All night social sessions seem to be pretty damned good things