When seven is no longer enough...

Seven is the most incredible number. Seven is the answer to everything - seven is the beginning and the end of the world.

Unfortunately I have only been in Edinburgh for 6 days so this is completely irrelevant. Now, I know what you're thinking - where the hell is this blog going? Why are you wasting precious web trees (for the web paper pages) on seven burblings?

Well, I have no idea. I'm just writing it - interpretation is your problem.
The trouble is see, I think I've been at the Fringe too long already - it's teaching me some pretty weird stuff about the way of the world if I'm honest. I am so saturated with lovies and comedic output that my starter motor has failed. I am completely out of comic imagination. It's gone. I am sitting on my bed like a 'normal'. A normal is a person that we 'creatives' have to look down on. 'Normals' are the audience who come to sup at the fountain of our creativity. They are certainly not as developed as us but they try hard. You can tell this by their constant ticket buying and attempts to analyse the miraculous concepts we have deigned to play with on stage in either our black skin tight leotards (actors/dancers/mimes) or 'I'm your best mate' jeans and t shirt (comedians/poets/street performers). I am starting to turn into one of these 'normals' due to vast expression of creative thought. It is draining away and soon I will be chowing down on mediocre theatre with no idea that just because I am enjoying it doesn't make it good theatre. Or unable to vocalise properly how the fact that Jason Manford makes lots of people laugh means he is necessarily a sell out. SUFFER. Sigh. I will be like a person who just wakes up in the morning and brushes their teeth and goes to work without once wondering what would happen if they brushed their teeth with cranberry juice for a month (I think I would start to look very vampiric and cool. I probably wouldn't).

I don't want to turn in to a 'normal'. They wear beige but in a not ironic way. It's ok to wear beige if you're an ahhhteest (artist) because it's a statement. Unless you are wearing an ugly beige cardigan as a comment on the way no one is paying any attention to Pakistan right now but your one woman show on the plight of a single family really makes people think, you are just not wearing it right. When 'normals' do it it's because they don't have the brain power to think about wearing cerise. If they do wear cerise it's from Marks and Spencer and not even in a post-modernist M&S sort of way.

By tomorrow I will be so normal I'll probably stop talking in the third person. I probably won't even think about Brecht or Lenny Bruce. I will just sit there hoping someone with fluffy hair and kirby grips is going to come along and 'really make me think and examine' something dance-based. The trouble with 'normals' is that they need us 'creatives' to help them think. Without us, they would just sit there all day staring at a wall and wondering what Davina Macall was up to. They might even text in to GMTV and answer a monotonously easy question. Just to kill the boredom. Now, we 'creatives' can't get to everyone at once but we're trying - one script at a time.

By tomorrow I might even eat white bread. I won't think abotu wheat germ. I will no longer even look for fair trade on bottles of stuff. I'll just drink anythign because I like it, just like a 'normal' would. Weird. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to handle it quite honestly. 'Normals' are queer folk, what with their jobs for money because they like stuff and haven't fallen for consumer guilt. How dare they make the most of the advancements of the world when they could flog themselves stupid every day in front of 4 people in a theartah and "know" more about what real life's about.

Bizarre.

Well, it's time to step outside and see how all this goes. Keep you posted folks. By tomorrow I'll probably have such an appropriate view of my self worth I'll stop keeping a blog. Because I'll realise it is not what 'normals' do. Because they understand that people don't actually give a shit. What weird creatures to assume you shouldn't publish your thoughts on the internet every day...I shudder.