Careful With That Axe, Stephen

I’ve been sleeping all day pretty much.

I’m tired, and my bones ache. Even a warm bath can’t seem to heat them up. My hands don’t belong to me, they go against my wishes. My body just won’t move. It’s given up so it seems. In my bed looking out the window, all I can see are the tops of leafless trees silhouetted by blue skies. Birdsong makes me calm, as does the peace and quiet. But my mood is a foul one. I’m angry at nothing in particular, cursing the random thoughts that flicker through my mind. I’m an invalid, a wicked child. Laying curled up in bedsheets, I dream of becoming a recluse like J.D.Salinger. Maybe I’ll write one big novel then disappear. I’d like that, genuinely. With the money the book makes, I’ll move to the middle of nowhere and cut myself off from everyone. I’ll be as good as dead. But I’ll keep on writing though, keep on blogging in seclusion. I’d be punishing people for not being kind enough to me whilst they had the chance. And I’d live to a ripe old age too, just to rub it in. People annoy me, being around them makes me ill. That’s not true with everyone of course, but it applies to most. All the questions and formalities, of trying desperately to fit in, of trying to appear so normal. It bores me senseless.

Educated monkeys the lot of them.

I’ve eaten, but what I ate was tasteless. I smoked a cigarette, but it did nothing other than give me heartburn. My emotions have been dancing all over the place. My head spinning and heart beating without end. Love they call it. Well love is hell. It can do one and leave me alone. Let me have some rest, a little respite if you please. But it won’t let go. Or rather, she won’t let go. Try as I might, there’s no stopping her. She’s just that sort of girl. I could go on, but there’s no point. I can never quite seem to capture what it is about her that sets me alight. She gets right under my skin like no other, and then into my heart. She smothers it with her scent so no else can get close. It’s hers and hers alone.

Just how she likes it.

My legs hurt, and my eyes are blurry. Headaches galore, I chew on a couple of painkillers but they don’t help at all. Going outside for a walk, the gloom won’t lift even though the sun is shining and no one else is about. I’m at one with nature, miles from other souls, yet the black dog on my shoulder can’t help but bring me down. Sitting at the foot of a tree facing the vast quarry, I close my eyes and feel myself dissolving into the landscape. I’m slowly getting close to recovering, when the dog starts barking. It barks deep into my ear, and the echo of each bark drives me to the point of insanity. There’s no escaping it, not today. A few hours later and I’m sat in the garden having a cup of tea. The neighbours are arguing about something or other. It makes me smile. It reminds me of her, and how we used to wind each other up on a daily basis. Returning back to bed, I lay there with my eyes shut and soon drift off to the realm of yesterday. Memories so lucid and vivid, I’m lost to the entire world.

J.D.Salinger would be proud. Maybe Syd Barrett too.

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