On trying to blog...

I don’t know why I stopped blogging really, maybe it was taking up too much of my time and daytime television is so very good at dulling the mind and getting me through the day until bedtime. It could be that I suppose, although for a long while now I haven’t felt very inspired and whilst I don’t need to be inspired to write this nonsense it helps. Yes, when the nonsense in my head stopped I found myself feeling empty and unable to comment easily on the things I used to comment on so easily. I think in the main I just stopped looking at things as closely as I used to because I began to look far too closely at those things; and with every look I found yet another blemish, a worm in my apple trying to get out and eat me. Of course I know what caused it to happen. It wasn’t one thing, it was a whole host of small ripples in my life growing and growing until it became a huge wave, a tsunami, that crashed into me and swept me away. Sounds dramatic doesn’t it? Trust me, it wasn’t. It was a slow drip, drip, drip.

Of course losing my mum in law was hard to talk about. I felt that somehow I’d failed her by not being able to stop what happened, although I’m told I did everything I could have done - (I could have done more, I know I could, I just know it). Then there was the Mr Shouty thing and how he and his wife not only disowned me because of his shouting and my reaction to it, but set the police on me, wiping me out of their lives just as Mr Shouty had always planned since I was born. Friends and family drop away so easily and I am so used to it, the empty loss it brings, that I only feel it when I sleep. In my dreams my old life goes on as normal, friends and family still talk to me, I go to work, laugh and feel good about things.

Don’t I sound like a right old moaner? Well, I just want to say that I really do recognise that it’s all my fault; all about me as always, it always was and it always will be about me. I am the centre of my universe and whilst I try to keep happy thoughts, I find it harder and harder each day. I scream about US gun law with no effect, post my crappy jokes because I habitually have to, try to amuse my Facebook friends with my witty and often upsetting comments, do online quizzes and drink. No drawing, no painting, it's even hard to think or just move sometimes...

Maybe I need to blog more than I thought and besides I just saw a carrier bag, caught by the wind in its emptiness, soar up and into the sky

Anyway here’s a shitty poem.

Lessons learnt?

If I were to impart my wisdom,

such as my wisdom is,

if I was tell you my lessons learnt
they would in part be this.
Don't sell yourself for wages.
Don't sell yourself for a kiss.
Life is more than money and mess,

far more than a passing piss.

More than rushing from this to that,
more than debt and excess.

Listen, I know my life isn’t perfect

and your life is yours to address,

but each of our lives is a landscape

and we are all painters I guess.

So please don’t smudge or fudge it,

draw it small and make it less,

paint it large in vivid colour

but live it nevertheless.