TICML

According to Peabo Bryson and Roberta Flack on their critically acclaimed hit from 1982 (released 1983) ‘Tonight I celebrate my love’. Well today, I celebrate the fact that my tablets actually did their job and did it well. I ever so muchly (that’s MY word) wanted to stick a pint glass into someone’s neck and use it as a saw, bathe in their blood and stroke their hair as they slip from this mortal coil. Not someone in particular per se, just sort of an amalgamation of folk ‘who done me wrong’. The Sertraline slipped in there quite nicely and robotised my animal brain into becoming, not so much subservient, more non violent and thus the statues quo of wankers live to fight another day.

On a brighter note, the storm has all but gone…ooh could that be the catalyst that fired my synapses into fight or flight mode? The streets have now returned to being roads and not rivers. I’m assuming all the detritus has been washed away down the sewer system (if this was Dahab, it would be the sea and I would have dysentery again) and the area seems cleaned(ish) the sun is shining like a big ball of nuclear explosion again and the shorts are back on. In the words of Dinah Washington,’ What a difference a day makes’ Maria Grever, Stanley Adams. Mercury records. 1959

So it’s back home with a bag of happiness (snacks, not drugs you fuckers) and a filim or two to assuage my thoughts of violent behaviour. I wouldn’t say this was my typical frame of mind for some time now (at least I’m not armed and in the army still) I think it’s just all things slowly tying themselves into a gordian knot that’s not gonna let itself unravel. Is this what it’s like when you fall out of your alcohol induced calm and hit the pavement of feeling??? I don’t know if I like it or not. Feelings have consequences and I don’t do them. Oh well, could be worse, I could be ginger.