I'm not entirely sure what I'm looking at.
The overall effect of all these moments with the new woman was to make you crave to be at home, whilst at the same time, dread the prospect of life’s quotidian transactions.
It's as if Gary Lineker had sired a bastard offspring with Simon Armitage, and I had been shat out of The Poet Laureate’s breeches.
God said 'Abraham, kill me a son,' And Abraham asked, 'Which one?' To which God replied, ‘Well, if there isn’t one that you perceive as a threat, kill the one who most gets on your nerves, I suppose.’
Bored, with no traction for either of us in our bad poetry competition, Keith and I have taken to setting each other crosswords. Have a go at mine below. The first correct answer received at the contact-me email (below? - somewhere nearabouts) will be sent a gift commensurate with one of the answers, whether they … Continue reading 8th Sept – It’s only words and words are all I have, to take your heart away.
It is an argument for reveille. In fact, it makes a strong case for all institutions managed and operated by educationally subnormal filth.
Perhaps there is an aspect of fatigue that is not sleep but where the body lacks the energy to sustain conscious thought? That thought alone is invigorating. Almost enough for me to raise myself to my feet.
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.
That essence of being human that allows your brain to wake before your body in case there’s a fire or a predator about – it can’t be switched off when there’s nothing doing and so goes looking for trouble.
I don't want to put too much strain on the apprentice tramp's slender budget, but if he can stretch to it, an invaluable addition to the essential kit must be a jar of Vick's Vapour Rub.
It is a recognised fault of mine, this – to obsess about one issue to the exclusion of all others. Add this to my other great weakness – that of getting every single 50-50 decision wrong, and it all goes to concoct a lethal brew.
Dickie White's Diary 