We haven’t spoken about him for a long time, but Friend John appears to be no longer capable of sustaining life. Dead, in other words. His blog posts indicate that he may well have taken a self-administered departure. ‘Each day, as soon as I return,’ they say, ‘I cancel the scheduled posts I’ve set up … Continue reading Oct 14th —The first cut is the deepest.
Tag: depression
3rd Mar – What price you have to pay to get out of, going through all these things twice.
Sad songs are all about evoking regret, and death by your own hand, is perhaps the first positive thing you have ever done with your life, so I think I’d go out to a Genesis track, or Bruce Springsteen, or something even worse, so that you had no regrets about leaving the earth and all its mediocrities.
Jan 12th – When you’re smilin’, when you’re smilin’, (the whole world smiles with you))))
I was guilty of a sort of casual, lazy, bias; my Norwegian acquaintance, however, was an actual racist.
25 May – Heaven. Heaven is a place. Where nothing, nothing ever happens.
I try to will a moment of nothing. To be empty of every notion; to free-dive into the darkness, where now and forever are the same thing. I desire all this, yet dread it - like a dog condemned to spend its days in a cage, first sleeping to avoid the pain of thinking, then doing the opposite until only sleep can offer respite.
29th Aug – Oh, yeah, And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way
Stav Danaos was reading the weather today. Reading. Not telling. He’s a bit proprietorial about it all isn’t he? Perhaps he takes his job title, weather forecaster, a bit too liderally*. It doesn’t come from a magic well into which only he can see, you know. For my part I prefer the pagaillique* approach of the ITV-casters, with the exception, obviously, of that woman who rides the donkey as a route to fame – she who posits herself as a specialist forecaster of weather at horse racing venues. Her colleagues though, are good because the know that they’re common and act like the weather’s something that has just happened to them. Which, of course, it has. It may sound harsh to put it that way, but I’m allowed, I was once a trainee pig-iron trader.
April 5th – The concrete and the clay, beneath my feet begins to crumble.
Almost everything that everyone else says is not worth the air with which it is spoken, obviously.
Dickie White's Diary 