CAN YOU HELP?
Well, now that the traumas of Christmas, New Year, and Valentine's Day have gone, only Easter and unforeseeable eventualities can harm us. I hope you survived, and are surviving. Seems it's the time of year when arguments, relapses, divorces, and gory car-accidents happen. Let that phase be over now, let a new moon glisten in a velvet vista above ya.
I haven't written for a while, because I've not had anything to say. I've just been quietly bewildered as to why I haven't used crack in so long. Time was when I felt like a shirt going round and round in a tumble-drier, with no washerwoman to free me from my fealty. (There are washermen, too, although spellcheck will try to tell you otherwise.)
Then minutes, just resisting, turned to an hour or so, which, after a long while, turned into a week or two, then a month, six months, and beyond...
There was no epiphany along the way, although the past two years have felt like a slowly unveiling epiphany, a cosmic dove revealed from under a neckerchief. Like looking at an hour-hand on a clock, it moves, but you don't see it.
I'm no total abstinence from everything kind of person, I won't lie, pretend I am, but somehow, I find myself recognising myself, sometimes with a frightening start. Seems there's no stranger like self. But here I am, gradually reassembling myself like self-aware Lego. And I even find a bonus-box of extra bits, with eagle-eyes and sonic-probe.
But the help I'd really appreciate, perhaps from you, is to get more readers for this blog, which I intend to use more often now, still under the same title, but hopefully with more good news than in the early days. It would be great if I could get to 10,000 visits - at present, it's around 8,800. So if you could share this blog with people you think might find it of interest, I'd be really grateful. I've begun performing comedy again, writing songs, stories, poems, and I'd like to broadcast them, share them, with you and others, on here. I'll fill you in on more soon, with video, new songs, and other bits. (I bet you can't wait.)
So, thank you for being there, and thank you for being you. Here's a little poem I've written lately, and a song to click on below:
ASBO
SALLY
She’s
good at what she does,
but
what she does is bad.It’s not easy living
this rock-hard life,
one day up,
three in bed,
like concrete’s been laid
in your head,
waking
at noon
to
a tenement skywishing it was easier and cheaper
to die.
Sally
was got at,
now
it’s her chance to get at,getting on well at it too,
seeking as she was sought,
clawing as she was clawed,
tearing as she was torn,
teaching as she was taught,
Sally’s in a rage,
can’t turn the page :(
Secret Sally,
freelance resurrecter,
turning
skin to stone,freelance resurrecter,
at the bottom of a bin-chute
in a postcode near you,
but
if she gets paid first
and
can run,she will run…
‘Seen
Sally?’
‘No
mirror has done.’That's the end of the poem, and here's the song I mentioned, it's a safe click to youtube on the title here: The World Is Full Of Whores
See you soon.
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