Moaning Lisa / September 18 2008
I hate to moan, but . . .
About seven days after Nelson leaves me and Audrey behind to return to his luxury penthouse flat in London, I always get a little down – which is unusual for me.
Apart from when I have a hangover – when my cast-iron defences begin to crumble and fail – [...]
Eye Can See Clearly Now / May 14 2008
I awoke with a jolt this morning at 5am in worried-sheep mode, full of anxiety. I feared one of my big, black waves of depression was about to engulf me. I read some John Donne before going to sleep last night (yes, I read metaphysical poetry – try not to faint) to prevent just this [...]
How It Hangs / December 13 2007
When you get to my age, thirty-five (Eh!? – Ed.), hangovers take on a malevolent character and can be very debilitating.
Nelson returned to London over a week ago and I am only now beginning to feel human again. I blame him - out of pure expediency, naturally - for being a bad influence on me [...]
Down and Dirty / May 6 2007
Feeling a little down in the dumps this morning, I decided to do a spot of gardening.
Yes, I know: not very rock’n’roll, but a healthy pursuit none the less.
It is not often I get out there amongst the weeds and thistles, but once I do, any dark thoughts seem to dematerialise. Gardening is a very [...]
Night Rally / March 16 2007
I am having trouble sleeping at night. It’s the horses, you see. They gather outside my bedroom window in the early hours, around half-past two, three o’clock.
I haven’t managed to do a full head-count yet, but I would say that on average there are always about twenty or thirty that regularly assemble there, waiting.
It is a [...]
Neighbours / March 13 2007
This morning, Audrey and I are spying, through our net curtains, on the new tenants who are moving into Bernard’s old flat. (Bernard was the idiosyncratic old man who we used to occasionally meet in the street and who died recently - unexpectedly and completely alone.)
Unfortunately, they have a boom-box playing loudly in the uncarpeted [...]
