clinging to the wreckage

I think that the most hilarious story I ever read was one in which Charles Bukowski explained that he wanted to call the police on his neighbours. Why? Because they left the house to go to work each morning at 8am and they returned at 6pm. At 9:30pm their lights would go out and they would all go to sleep, only to repeat the process the following day. For this behaviour, Bukowski wanted to call the police. He was the first to acknowledge, however, that his call would fall upon deaf ears as he did not have much of a case. Never the less, the story tells us so much about his unique mind and his original outlook on life. He considered it unacceptable, nothing short of a crime, to spend life behaving in a conventional manner. Conventional thought and behaviour was something that Bukowski would not tolerate and he spent his entire life writing prose and poems about this very thing. It wasn’t so much that he had to point it out or specifically mention it, unconventional thoughts simply o

Why does it mean so much to me and so little to them? Why is it so easy for them to walk away and move on whilst I remain lingering in hope and clinging to the fading memories, making a fool of myself as they replace me with the next fresh flavour?

Wake up, Monday morning, wondering why… what is the point of it all? The second you step outside you see them; the busy ones buzzing around, coffee cups in hand and their days carefully planned. They are so excited to be heading back to their offices… to be escaping their families… to push onwards and upwards for a profitable new week whilst you feel as if you just might die at any given moment. It doesn’t matter if you drive or walk or catch a train, you will see them everywhere... they will be holding their Starbucks coffee… it’s not about the coffee, it is about the status, the symbol, the message. Everyone who drinks it has some serious mental issue. The younger ones sip a red bull… it is not about the drink… it is to say ‘I partied hard last night, I am cool, I never slept but I am still up and about my business… I repeat; I’m just so cool.’ So, what is the point? Why do we drag ourselves on through the sludge and drudgery of this daily play… this tragic comedy in which nobo

There are days such as today during which life feels almost liveable and enjoyable... made so by you. Sincerely. Through the darkness that I try to block you cast a blinding light and lift me beyond hope. Clinging to this through deaths calls I arrive at home after a troublesome drive upon flooded roads to read the first chapter of A Moveable Feast having being advised that I shouldn’t give up on the author simply because I disagree with his lifestyle... this was good advice considering how much enjoyment the language and imagery of that first chapter brought to me. However, after a short period of time, I had to escape from that too and so I had a brief flick through certain social websites and found myself floundering in fear of these modern times and modern humanity. As Greg Graffin once wisely said: ‘Welcome to the New Dark Ages.’ Celebrity gossip seems to be more important than actually learning something in modern life. There is no thought, no creativity, no individuality...

A week survived. A week which started with a blissful day followed by one of the most strenuous working days in recent history. Upon that day a deep sense of disconnection set in within me once more and i started to wonder where I had gone so horribly wrong with all of the human bonds in my life. However, as Wednesday rolled around and the week unfurled, I discovered that there are still a string of people who care and actually find me interesting. And now, as Saturday has arrived, I feel like a king. I’m alone... a blissful alone. I sip a cup of coffee and listen to the rain tap against the window as I sit inside and enjoy the fact that I have no plans, nowhere I have to be, and no one asking me (or nagging me) to do things. I see the immense frustration of those who are in relationships and especially those with children who are disturbed by the rain because it means that they have to remain indoors with the family. There will come a time when I will be sick, or dying, alone and th

Dear mother, If I should die tonight, please know that there is no other way I could find happiness and that there is no other way I’d want it. Yes, people say ‘we could have helped him to recover from his illness.’ but I disagree. I think it is the people who want to hang around who are in fact ill. They want to live on and live on and struggle on. Why do we all do it endlessly until we die without dignity? Dear Mother, in this living world I have done all that I wanted to and now I am lost and so very tired. I’ve lived a good life but I have never belonged. Some have risen to the top in spite of not belonging but they have had the talent that I lack. And I have never had the will or desire to rise to the top. My only desire was to escape. To escape the endless competition. The meaningless machines grinding on and on until all is destroyed. Rest is what I need. I need a rest from all of the lies, all of the filthy hidden secrets, all of the things that most of us know all too

I awoke unable to determine where I was. I was on a bed, so I couldn’t be at my friend’s house where I always slept on the sofa... but this was an unfamiliar bed and an unfamiliar room. As my eyes adjusted and I was able to focus I realised that I was in fact at my friend’s house and recalled that, after vomiting, I had fallen asleep in the bedroom whilst the others were still drinking and talking in the living room. For some reason, they had not woken me but had, instead, slept on the sofa themselves. I got up and went to the toilet. I returned to the bed (I’d slept on top of it fully clothed) and a few moments later my friend and his girlfriend walked into the room and got into their bed next to me. I got up and went to the sofa where I lay down for a few minutes before having to race to the bathroom to throw up once more.                 At 08:30 my friend had to walk to the office to work the Saturday shift. I said I’d walk with him and as I got up to put my shoes on I had to r