Chin Up - keepin' my history!
Entry posted by 5co77ie
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sheesh, it's all gettin' a bit tricky! I'm trying to stay positive about the whole think, but dreamt that K and Z both died last night in my dreams and woke up a gibbering mess. Feel totally inert about everything now. 'always look on the bright side' eh? Well I'm trying to, I've got my grandmother deteriorating rapidly (she is 98) my sister seems to have vanished! and so I've got to deal with that and lie through my teeth everytime gran asks if I'm ok. guess she can sense summits up but thankfully she doesn't press it. She's having giddy spells, hearing music all the time and having the 'little folk' climb out of the walls and visit her at night.
Great so here comes another impending funeral i'll have to arrange - I'm getting good at them now, trouble is I'm running out of family to practice on.
I've been fairly level headed about the whole thing, but hey what's a blog for if you can't offload, and i like to think no one's reading this anyway. That makes me feel terrible too, there's all these people dotted all over the country that i only see at festivals, cos my life's too frikin busy (supposedly) to have anytime to see them or talk to them the rest of the time and i never got into the whole text generation thing and get freaked out by phones - too much acid tripping while trying to phone people - horrendous. Anyway, and even if i am at festivals I'm usually too off my box to have any meaningful conversation.
Somewhere along the line I seem to have lost all the real people in my life, mainly due to being an unpredictable drunk half the time, that rarely decides to open up and actually show I'm anything other than shallow and actually reveal i have any depth to me. infact I'm not convinced I have much to contribute really.
Although i do have loads of memories of bizarre stuff like being interrogated at the age of nine in Iran or having to be rushed to a prison junkie hospital in Singapore after my toe was hanging off as it was the only place with the right drugs or seeing the helicopter with the film crew from Apocalypse Now catch fire or livin' wild in a jungle with a tribe of Micronesians and chasing wild boar, being 'attacked' by a basking shark or having my dad rescue me from a tiger shark by running barefoot across a coral reef. Going to loads of festivals and visiting most of the places to see on this globe. I've had quite a mental life if i think about it, just most of it by the time i was 12.
Anyone get the feeling I'm a bit laidun with regret? I spent years hardly talking to my parents cos i was too wasted to bother travelling to see them more than 4 days a year. Years bitter at my old man for leaving my mum in her condition and running off with someone else and now I see why, as he had this illness, he sent me birthday cards entitled things like 'The Wasteland' and 'Derelict'.
There was all this stuff i was gonna do, manyana, and now I'm not sure I'll ever get around to them. Talk about long dark night of the soul, last night seemed to last forever as i hung on for the dawn. I sat there thinking of the New Hebrides and how I'm the only record keeper of our years there, my sister's too young to remember it. I thought I'd write a journal of everything that I could remember, the places we went, the moments we had. But when am I gonna get around to it. Inertia again, lack of motorvation, no drive.
There's a huge 'what's the point?' hanging over me. I've tried to escape it, but it wheeled on me last night and threw me around like that storm raging outside. So I have to wait to face the results of all these tests and god they can't come soon enough now. Talk about a reversal from my viewpoint of not wanting to know. Now it consumes my waking hours and I realise I've never bothered to keep any records of my life and what I've seen. Mainly cos i felt it was bragging, but who knows when I'll get a chance to tell it all to my daughter, and if I am ill maybe one day she'll want to know. Guess i should right that journal.
But then there's all the other books i was gonna write, to escape the grind, the unfinished painting. Ironic really if i have this illness, i can't just run off to the sun, oh no I'll have to work 'til the end of my days - Maybe getting six months off at the end. None of these projects have been more than roughly started and none are likely to really, I'm caught now in the wait. The long wait - to find out what's wrong with me.
Ahh that was catharthic and depressing, i feel it's rid me of my worries enough to get on with the day. Infact i feel much better. Maybe I'll just type in a few memories down in this 'ere blog when i have moments to spare. it's more likely than finding time to write them in a book.
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