Being the writings of one John Patrick Higgins: popstar, painter, lover, failure.
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
"Beneath the murky waters of the Irish sea something, something infinitely old and terrible, was stirring. Either a monstrous mutation or a creature thrown forward countless millenia by some sort of evolutionary sport; an evil genius now lurked in the briny depths. Waiting. Waiting for the dark. Waiting for the moon. Waiting for the night...of the crabs."