Broken Friends

So yeah I didn’t call but you never noticed.

You didn’t come because you were to busy waiting for a new phone, then you decided to get pissed.

True friends don’t mind all this hey?

But planting a gaslight in my head is a’ok?

I don’t want to know about your dungeons, your dark places. There are places blacker than black I’ve been. So let’s just keep all this to ourselves hey, for me it’s not fair to shine light on the demons I’ve seen.

Anyway your probably to busy on your newish phone to ever read this, after all you have 300 friends on Facebook who’s daily prattling you don’t want to miss.

But there will be a gap in the shadow of where you were, as you were the last of the broken friends to care.

D September 2018

Gone Fishing?

So much for me staying focused, writing daily on one of my unfinished novels then lead to wanting to have a character from a different culture in it, which then lead to me brushing up on my French. I used to travel a lot in France as a teenager and was semi fluent and even after all these years of thinking I’d forgotten it all, the audio book I’m learning has brought back great memories from before my ‘diagnosed conditions’, drinking wine on beaches, scuba diving, cycling a strange half skateboard half bicycle contraption around the village, getting my name all over the arcade machine out side the local store, listening to Jean Michael Jarre’s Rendezvous as we drove into the mountains, getting a bee stuck in the car and the accelerator pedal getting trapped down in the car while my mum panicked doing 129mph down outside lane until she managed to get keys out of the ignition. Staying in haunted hotels and not getting a wink of sleep. Also many other snippets and feelings of memories. I so want to go back now but with this Brexit mess I don’t know how practical it is, nor do I think that the France of the 80s is anything like the one of today.

Au Revoir

Paix

D