Diary Of Some Sort Of Life #28

Saturday, 22nd April, 2017.


I kinda feel a bit better this morning. Got something off my chest last night. Just feels good to say stuff.

The tell tale signs. I had no trouble sleeping though.


Time to ferry, lots of children to the trampoline place. Hopefully, it will wear them out a bit. I’m sensing a quiet afternoon. 


Oh my god! I’d forgotten how awful places like that are.

Look at the enjoyment in my face.

Anyway. I be escapes that and found something much more wholesome and educational to do.


Life goes on, doesn’t it? Sometimes, I despair. That’s a lie. I always despair. I have the most convincing mask. Or at least, I think I do. Sometimes, when I’m with someone who reads this shit, I look into their eyes, and feel laid bare. They know everything that’s in front of them is the illusion. The illusion that alcohol and bravado allows me. There is a pain inside me that no drugs or alcohol can null. No love or feeling can quench.

Sunday,  23rd April, 2017.


I dealt with the lull in mental health by drinking like a fish. Bought a Gabicci jacket off EBay. I’ve managed to stave off the lurking bastard again.


Now feeling strangely upbeat. I took my youngest to meet his friends at the pool. Down some chores. Now I’m prepping for Mare coming for BBQ. when I say, prepping, I mean smoking fags and drinking Corona.


It was good. Cooked 25 sausages, 6 burgers, 1 steak and a variety of weird vegetarian shit. Made a salad and dressing. Fed everyone. Drank lots.