What depressed Joe the most, and he never shied away from using the term 'depressed', was the fact that he knew he was right.
His honesty with himself brought him to tears, the knowledge that his sense of who he truly was weighed heavily on his mind, his ability to realistically see the world without bias or opinion struck him dully across the cheek.
Optimism was useless because the truth would always win the day. Pessimism pointless for the same reason.
Pulling the curtain back and seeing the pulleys and cables and trap doors in the light of day highlighted the mystery as false and the magic as fake.
He knew this.
He knew he was the sane one.
He knew more than he wanted to know.
Great
The "Have a great day" guy in the coffee shop will be disappointed in me.
My day was just 'alright'.
It definitely wasn't great.
He seemed so happy at the thought of my "great" day - smiling broadly as he handed me my medium black in a 'to go' cup.
I hope he's not there tomorrow.
He'll know.
My day was just 'alright'.
It definitely wasn't great.
He seemed so happy at the thought of my "great" day - smiling broadly as he handed me my medium black in a 'to go' cup.
I hope he's not there tomorrow.
He'll know.
Where I Am
I looked for you, but I wasn't there.
In your room, but I wasn't there.
Around the house and in your chair.
I finally arrived when I learned to care
For me.
In your room, but I wasn't there.
Around the house and in your chair.
I finally arrived when I learned to care
For me.
Lights Out
It's OK to keep my living room curtains open so I can sit on my armchair and look out onto the street to watch the people pass by.
But I'm afraid someone might glance in, see me watching them and think I'm a bit crazy and come over to bang on the glass and ask me what my problem is.
So I close the curtains.
And keep the light turned off too.
Just in case.
It's OK.
Night View
Nightfall in a place called Toronto.
On a brightly lit stretch they call 'street', where heavy machines transporting humans from one place to another send vibrations in between toes.
They pass, holding bags and conversations.
Bill watched.
Yes, Raccoons have names for each other too.
Humans - so self-obsessed.
On a brightly lit stretch they call 'street', where heavy machines transporting humans from one place to another send vibrations in between toes.
They pass, holding bags and conversations.
Bill watched.
Yes, Raccoons have names for each other too.
Humans - so self-obsessed.
Just Like That
On April 15th 1984, British comedian/magician Tommy Cooper collapsed and died on stage during a performance on the Live at Her Majesty's TV show. His death was viewed by millions of viewers across the UK. The following is my tribute to him.
The laugh. The smile. The familiar grin.
The final time. Unknown. Within.
Lap it up. This is it. It's finally arrived.
The audience relish your every move.
You have already died.
Just Like That and What Happened There?
Now more than just your lines, but
a body's message to the brain
That it's time, it's time, it's time.
Slump, fall and lie down flat
That's that.
Solemn faced, no act
The fact.
Unknown by the giggling mass.
Booze, smokes, bills and cares
No longer aware.
Gone and yet to all who see
The familiar shape - that's me.
You say.
The day.
Has arrived.
The laugh. The smile. The familiar grin.
The final time. Unknown. Within.
Lap it up. This is it. It's finally arrived.
The audience relish your every move.
You have already died.
Just Like That and What Happened There?
Now more than just your lines, but
a body's message to the brain
That it's time, it's time, it's time.
Slump, fall and lie down flat
That's that.
Solemn faced, no act
The fact.
Unknown by the giggling mass.
Booze, smokes, bills and cares
No longer aware.
Gone and yet to all who see
The familiar shape - that's me.
You say.
The day.
Has arrived.
Brain Surgery
"Hmmm" Doctor Portress mused as he gazed into the workings of my head.
"Can you see that on the screen?". Yes, I could.
The image of my brain; exposed, pulsing and transmitted in full colour on a wall mounted flat screen TV.
"That's interesting...looks like some sort of crucially embarrassing moment. Maybe age eight...?"
The time Tom O'Dwyer pulled my pants down in the school playground and everyone pointed and jeered. The way Jane Dunne looked at me, with her lovely blue eyes.
"That's possibly a source of your neurosis...we could just cut it out but we'd need to be careful - it's almost touching each of your positive Christmas Day memories and a some nice looking holiday emotions".
Cut he did and since then my difficulties with the opposite sex have diminished noticeably.
Although Santa Claus now fills me with dread.
"Can you see that on the screen?". Yes, I could.
The image of my brain; exposed, pulsing and transmitted in full colour on a wall mounted flat screen TV.
"That's interesting...looks like some sort of crucially embarrassing moment. Maybe age eight...?"
The time Tom O'Dwyer pulled my pants down in the school playground and everyone pointed and jeered. The way Jane Dunne looked at me, with her lovely blue eyes.
"That's possibly a source of your neurosis...we could just cut it out but we'd need to be careful - it's almost touching each of your positive Christmas Day memories and a some nice looking holiday emotions".
Cut he did and since then my difficulties with the opposite sex have diminished noticeably.
Although Santa Claus now fills me with dread.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)