Unhugged

I'm in Preston. I've been auditioning for a part in a performance piece in which the participants are blindfolded and led into a pitch-black room, sat down, and then are approached and guided off their chairs and wrapped up in hugging by singers they never see, doing this hocketting vocal. You needed to have some sort of musical / vocal background. Half my degree was in Music but I've got very little experience singing -- I just love it.

You really have to think, but it was so enjoyable. Don't know whether it's lack of sleep too, but singing in a group is elating. It's just such fabulous, fabulous fun and it's made me think I must join a choir or something.

They said they'd let us know today. I got one of those breathlessly positive emails an hour ago saying how wonderful everyone was, so I've spent the afternoon diluting my pint of disappointment with tears of regret and self-doubt, to exaggerate.

The first thing I thought was that this is what Jenny (middle daughter, the actress) will have to go through. It's hard, rejection, but when people well-meaningly say "it's their loss", that is utter shite. No, not at all. Art is not a social service in that sense. They want people who will make their artwork better.

So that finished at half past twelve. I texted Wendy its narrative.

Good morning beautiful. Wish me luck... I'm on the bus to Preston for a part in a thing called HUG where participants are blindfolded and then hugged as we do this repetitive chant thing. It's a day out in glorious Preston in any case. P.S. I think you are super-sexy and lovely Xx.

--I will wish you good luck! It sounds suitably odd x

Thank you! Only odd and rare things for me x

--I know, same here, that's why we like each other.

After the audition, I went down the pub and continued reading Knausgård's addictive autobiography -- which I find meandering, dangerous, precipitious, and exciting -- when the email came through telling me I hadn't been selected.

I texted Wendy (how I wish I could tell you her real name, it's so much lovelier to pronounce in the mouth, as lovely as my cock would feel in hers).

Didn't get it after the audition. but it was the best ever Sunday morning I've had in Preston. I fancy you so much that my cock starts to get hard when I compose the most unsexual text to you. I'd love to guide your fingers now and drape them over the stiffening evidence. FFS Wendy what have you done to me? I am in a pub but I desperately need to go home and wank over, on, in, with you Xx

I couldn't stop now, a hard Wendy-wanting cock. Some "pero....", fucking Spaniards jabbering on in Europe's ugliest language at the next table.

It would be lovely if one day if it were your fingers rather than mine. Going to stop this now because coming in a pub is a bit difficult to conceal. You make me come over and over again. You make me come and come and come and come Xxx