Diary Of Some Sort Of Life – The Dark Days

Friday, 3rd March, 2017

I had already written a lot today but it’s been lost. Probably lucky for all of us.  It was pretty dark. Everyone has given up for the day and gone home. It was probably the infection of my misery upon them. I’m standing outside Bank tube station, alone. No real rush to be anywhere. Can’t think of anything. The remnants of what I wrote today are within the pictures that are still in my library.

The core of it was, is it my fault? Of course it Fucking is!  The one thing I know in this life is, you can’t blame anyone for their actions, opinions or feelings. Just yourself, for the way you react to them. That doesn’t make me feel better. Worse, probably. Ultimately, no one really gives a shit. It’s hard to summarize.


Just keep moving. Never stop to pick up baggage that will, inevitably, weigh you down. I’ve watched you do it. Or, at least,the most convincing lie of someone doing it. 

“and all our troubles will be gone.

Blowing out, over that bridge.

Blowing out into the sky.

Making the storm clouds cry.”

– Mr. E.

It’s definitely gone black and white though. Or more, a mushy, grey hue. No sparkle. No laughter. Just a drone.

I want you to call me,……. please!


Dr. Samual Johnson once said:

“He who makes beast of himself, gets rid of the pain of being a man.”

I know people, who can do this. I’m not one of them. I feel everything. No matter how much alcohol, or medicine, or narcotic. Bandaging the nerves only hides the pain, until they are exposed again. And you can’t bandage them forever. Trust me, I’ve tried.

“By your hearth and heart is where I    long to be, 

   between crisp, white sheets,                nesting canopy.”


With all I have said, I will continue to try to dull the pain, blur the reality I feel, with anything I can get my hands on. When there is only one heart, you want beating, next to yours, everyone else’s sounds like a dull thud. I’m a cruel bastard. This statement belittles others that mean so much, but it’s the sad truth. 

This is from Shelley’s poem, To Night. It has a different meaning to me.

It’s a disease I have. I know that. Anyone with half a brain knows that. The people I work with don’t knows that. For fucks sake, they think that Donald Trump is a stand up fella and has a lot of valid policies!!!! 

For example, tonight, I could go and be loved and looked after. Treated with love but all I would want is to be back in my pit, amongst my toys, hoping that the idea that will change my life will present itself……..I’ll be in my pit tonight, wishing I had chosen the former. 

Like a cancer. Blackening what’s good and steering me to the dark.

My angels never leave me, but the solice they give me, is not enough. when the solice I want, is not there.


Falling down. The truth is, I’m an awful human being. I’d like to say the that the Hunter S Thompson Quote, ” Too weird to live, too rare to die.” applies to me. The truth would be,” Too weird to live, too scared to die.”


Life has taken it toll and I don’t think I should be allowed to be alone tonight. Inflicting my misery upon the ones I love is one thing. Inflicting it on worthless, social media cunts, is another. If you’re ripe for the picking, I’ll hurt you just to hide my own shameful existence from myself.

These boys will have to wait until tomorrow. I need to get outside.

Saturday, 4th March, 2017


That went well then. I must have touched a nerve by suggesting that her husband looked old enough to be her dad because all hell broke loose! Oh well. Nobody likes the truth. Feeling slightly better about life but still feel the shadows trying to pull me in. I’m gonna spend the day trying to concentrate on music. I hope it distracts me enough.


I’ve made hard effort to concentrate on what’s really important. I’m now in my local, feeling, pretty bad. Patron, Corona….now Guinness. 

I walked the river.

Hoping for the tranquility it can give me.

Nothing is giving me hope. I’m an awful person. My solice is in alteration of my mind. The world I live in, means, narcotic, alcoholic.

Worthless, empty, husk.

Sunday, 5th March, 2017


I’m currently feeling better. I went on an extreme bender last night, which seems to of helped. What exactly happened I am unsure of. Probably for the best. I’m sitting in my local with a pint of Guinness. I’m taking a break from music. I’ve managed to put together a base track for song one, currently called Reborn. It only has one verse of lyrics so far. I think I have some more written somewhere so I’m gonna go back and lay them down then move onto another track. I love doing everything myself. 


Good. I actually achieved what I wanted to. Rare for me considering my current mental state. Starting to feel low now. 

Monday, 6th March, 2017


Body wrecked. Mind in a sewer. Just hatred for everything. I didn’t want to get up ever again but here I am on the train. Hell. My private hell. When’s it going to end?


Arrived at work. Luckily, no one was nasty. 

The vacant stare of self hatred. 

How do people move on? I tried to give myself hope by thinking back. It’s turns out, I never have. I suppose the closest I have is replacement. Hiding one misery, by replacing it with new one. They all start as happiness but always end the same.


With the boss in today, no one is interested in conversation. A blessing. Nice, quiet, grissly, childish, obsessive excuse for life. 


Am I just being used? A sick grand, reality show like The Truman Show. Just a poor, tortured clown. Punished for amusement. Ego can even seep into my misery.




We are all waiting for that magic go home moment. Eyeing the boss to see what his reaction is to homeward movement. Darting eyes, all waiting. I currently couldn’t care less. 


The exodus has begun. I’ll follow behind like a good chap.


Travel. Keep the head down. The weary and the weak need not apply. Show no weakness. It could be your undoing. Keep heart. It will all, soon, be……..just a dream.

Have you ever had that feeling? When you just want to just stop, in the middle of the street, and start screaming. Screaming and screaming, until someone pays attention. Until someone sees how much you’re hurting and how much you need help. The reason people attempt suicide is because no one takes you seriously. They think you’re having a “bad day”. You are seeking attention. 



I didn’t even make it home. I fell in the hole. I’ll have a quick couple. The walk back from the station was enough to make me plummet even further.

When you walk the streets where you were made. It’s hard.

It’s not just me that feels the pain.

At least there is a piece of wood to hold me up.


Be happy. Even though your twisted, bitter soul took away a joy. You can have a Limited Edition red vinyl reminder.

I’m sure things will get better. In fact, I know they will. They always do. It’s a cycle. A cycle that people don’t want to endure or understand.

For the meantime, I’ll continue. I have a weekend in Brighton to look forward too. Even if, even that, is giving a slightly bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll just avoid the situation. It’s a shame as I would have liked to have that moment of enjoyment. The idea of looking over my shoulder makes my neck hurt already. Stomach turning, eyes wide scanning. 


Time for walking dead. I do it every Monday at my partner in crimes’ house. One for the road.


The world moves. You can see the dew on a rose petal, form and evaporate. With a lifetime to admire, or within the blink of an eye. Don’t let the confusion of being, control your resolve. Follow what you know is true. 

The only truth I have, is that my heart is pure. I feel love like a cut to my skin. It is as real, as you will ever feel. And pure like a snowflake, the first you ever saw.


I suppose I’ll have to enjoy the little things.

Tuesday, 7th March, 2017


Again, it rolls on. The morning is brighter today. It helps, a bit. Hoping for a break. Just a few moments. The first song as the headphones go in.

“you do it to yourself, you do, and that’s why it really hurts.”


Awakes, warm and happy. Blond awry, beauty. Pure marble skin and mind. Inpenetrable to me. Is what makes my heart bleed.

On goes another day. 


Story of my life……….

Nothing’s working today. That’s in a work sense. The other, we already know isn’t working. I bet you’re wondering when this is gonna end? 

Me too. Me, Fucking, too!

I really need to find something to distract me. Or just find a way to let it go. I’m going to change my doctor this evening. See if I can get an appointment and do the thing which feels me with more dread than anything. Medication. The thought makes me feel defeated. As much as I know I have a disease, I don’t want to fall into that awful blank world that the pills make me fall into. Something has to give. 

“I just couldn’t face going home, it was just a drag on my own.”


Slowly, dragging on. Boring. Monotonous. I drew some cash out, only to find I already had £20 in my wallet. That means a stop at the pub on the way home.


 At least the boys have got a bit of sun on them for a change.

I stood on the other side, as usual, in the shadows. Melodramatic. I don’t give a fuck. I feel like shit.


I wait all day for it to come. Heading home. The awful truth is, it’s the worst part of the day. When you’re alone, there is no longer a reason to wear that mask. It’s just you.just you.

Afternoon rolls to evening. Evening rolls to night. Lay in the dark and watch the shapes dance across your eyes. 

This will always, always be true though:


Sitting in the hole again(pub). I’m gonna have to go home. I don’t want to, but I’ll have to. Draw the curtains. Shut it all out for another day. Wednesday tomorrow. Half way. I don’t have to worry about the weekend. There will be plenty of chemical enhancement. I just hope I don’t ruin it. 


Will someone, please just give me a break! I’m not a bad person. I just want a chance to start my life again and have somewhere my kids can call home, when they stay. Fucking councils. Please just help me!


I’ve tried to concentrate on importance. Music. The album. That first track that seems so important. It’s hard to sing, when you keep crying. Always the fool. Never “The One”.  
Always waiting for tomorrow…….

Wednesday, 8th March, 2017


Another grand day. I actually can’t tell you how I feel, mentally, because my brain is fluff. No coffee yet. The train is quiet, and so is my mind. Let’s hope it lasts. 


Bleugh!!! Crappy Starbucks. There is always one bloke who has to buy for his whole office. People are trying to get to work for fucks sake. I don’t mean me, I never “try” to get to work but other people have to.

Looking at the picture now. He looks like a bit of a brown nose!


Pissy, wet, miserable day now. On the upside my brain is having a transition. I think I have now gained, what I call, middle status. I don’t care either way about things. Win money? ain’t bothered. Run over by a bus? such is life.

My view today.


Lunchtime scenes and boring car chats.

If I can’t drink alcohol……..

I’d better just see if I can yawn my way through the rest of the afternoon. 


“I’ve taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me.”

– Winston Churchill


It’s odd the things, that you glimpse, in London, from the corner of your eye.


Coach 8 of 8. The fast train from Waterloo. A quick rest, then write a list for the forthcoming weekend. 

I can still feel the shadows nipping at my heels but, for now, I might have stepped out in front for a while. When you have suffered with this, as long as I have, you learn to read the signs. 

 I won’t tempt fate just yet. I think avoidance, of the forthcoming situation, will be for the best. I really don’t want to slip back down the rabbit hole.


It’s been a really tough week. I’ve had worse but still, I wouldn’t, really, wish it upon anyone. I’m not ashamed of my illness.why would I be? Why should anyone? I didn’t ask to be this way. The people who hide it. Pretend it’s not happening. They are the ones who deserve more pity. It’s all about acceptance. There are a billion people out there with bigger problems than me. Only, I’m inside and sometimes it’s hard to see out. 

I’m never, really, brimming with happiness but I’m hoping that this weekend away will kick start me into a good few weeks of being on the up. 

But, in my experience. You never can tell. 

I just had a, very late, Amazon delivery. It could be a good omen.

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