Friday, 24 July 2015

MY BRAIN

I find that, since last year, people have begun to question my mental capabilities e.g. asking if my extreme language has been caused by my illness or my medication or saying how forgetful l have been lately. I feel offended by this as if they're invading my brain, that they know more about me than I do - if they were talking about my bad leg, l wouldn't mind so much but, as it is my brain, they are striking at the very heart of me - or rather, the very brain of me. Am I slowly descending into the abyss? Is this the start of Dementia? Or am l reading more into this than is there? What is the Christian answer? Is God? Are God? 

" those beautiful soft, deep images had plunged into my brain and broken against the inside of my head like tears of velvet." Mm...

"I came away from our meeting feeling as if I had been lifted me up and thrown hard against a wall causing me to shatter into thousands of petals that floated and fell and then bled as the breeze dragged them across grit and dirt."

Well, maybe...

.....they were right to question this! Maybe I should see someone ("Vell, Meester Andrews, ve haf looked at your brain und ve haf come to ze conclusion zat it is very interesting but stupid") or maybe I shouldn't give a fuck what anybody thinks and just carry on making mistakes like everybody else does!!

I listened to The Goon Show last night - you think I'm crazy? You should have heard Henry Crun and Min Bannister trying to outdo each other, singing sea shanties.

Wednesday, 22 July 2015

SURVIVING A SHIT DAY

SURVIVING A SHIT DAY

  I have been waiting for someone like you
Who knows well the path that I follow
Who recognises the person I was, am, will be
Yesterday, today and tomorrow.

I turned the page and saw the silent sea
In all its grand and glorious hues;
I saw you and me catching our breath,
In its greens, its greys and blues.

I watch as the emptiness drains away,
Taking before it the dirt and scum
Which dribbles through rusted holes,
Whilst men sweat and boast in the sun.

Now you are here as the swallows fly
To search for winter warmth,
Not caring who they leave behind
As they boldly venture forth.

I have been waiting here for you;
I know well your grief and sorrow.
No need to explain what is in your mind,
No need. No time to borrow.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Tuesday, 21 July 2015

I"M DOWN


You telling lies, thinking I can't see,
You don't cry 'cos you're laughing at me
I'm down

Yep, I'm down but I don't know why. I think it is because everything seems to be crowding in on me. My money running out in a few months time. My creative block seems to have returned. The bloody scaffolding still outside reminding me that the fucking builder hasn't rebuilt the balcony which he destroyed because I wasn't on the ball enough. I'm still overweight. England got dumped by Australia in the Test Match. I'm tired. Hang on - enough of this. Get a grip. 

We're all  alone and there's nobody else,
You still moan, "Keep your hands to yourself"
I'm down.
                                                        - John Lennon & Paul McCartney