If Will Smith made a movie of my life, set in a desolate, deserted Taunton, it would be called I am Hypocrite.
If Will Smith made a movie of my life, in a dystopian future Yeovil, it would be called I, Hypocrite.
If Mel Gibson made a movie about helicoptering into the Lower Parrett valley, under fire from hoards of disgruntled Somersetians, it would be called We Were Hypocrites.
Or possibly I, Sugar Tits.
Reason? I have been happily dispensing advice left, right, centre and arse-backwards to any number of people. Telling them that to make the trip they've been thinking about, change the thing that's not working, learn the skill they've been craving for years, pursue the dream that has occured to them 30 seconds before, broach the issue holding their attention every waking hour.
And all the time I'm doing the same old ignoring the same old cursing the same old lamenting the same. old. things.
Time to heed myself, I think.
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