Flying monkeys dressed like bellmen – 3rd March 1994

What mad destiny had led me here, keyboard sat and twisty back?  Last entry into my world made six days gone.

Weekend spent with drunken buddies at the Joiners, we presented P.J. with a 31 candled cake Broni whipped up in the storm of the morning.  I took stage for drunken announcement which I don’t remember whether to regret.

Me, my baby and the Maybush mad dogs had drunk ourselves to oblivion and we were barking no more.  We hit our various sacks and I fell asleep dreaming of dancing in aisles, hassling young girls telling me they’re with a brother’s friend who’s in a band that’s playing that they can’t quite remember the name of, of P.J.’s face, lit up with grim surprise, of Red Dwarf and Broni’s complaining of tiredness.

Waking with others lain strewn about the house, rest of the crew let themselves in 3am after dumping P.J’s vodka drenched body home.  He toilet slept after sickness, no doubt some of our cake included. 

We laughed at the stories of the night before and we all lifted from our slumber, some to band practice, others to the industrial mecca of Eastleigh, where me, Broni and Richie consumed coffees at his, then Chrissy’s.  She’s occupied all her waking moments and twas good to see her happiness at the poetry booklet, now finished and for sale.  She and little tike Amanda read poems together as people came and went like the house was an airport terminal.  Poor Chrissy, faced with such loss, I saw some of her scribblings saying ‘Chrissy loves Steve’, recently done.  The hullabaloo of the house though must distract her somewhat, surrounded by so many friends.  Beautiful Rebecca now able to sit upright without topsy-turvying over on the floor, soon writing poetry I bet!

Came back black highway and relaxed with cheese and wine, for we live like kings, and watched a beautiful film called Orlando and eventually fell asleep to another called The Lover.

My Monday at work cut short as my wrist said ‘Hey Mister, no more you write with me’, so appointment made I wait around the sunny Tuesday at home and on visiting surgery (the receptionist another one of the deja vu people as I’ll now call them) get signed off for two weeks rest and pleasure.  But what frustration this brings as I have a million things to put to paper with pen and an arm that won’t accept the challenge, hence here sat typing this!

Midweek brought the freshest sunny day so far this year and I sat in the park watching the world go by and reading some more from Jack, sat desolate in the mountain tops pondering existence and coming up with some pretty good ideas.

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All this and more too as Broni is several moondays late and we think up names and cry and wonder about our future and what plans best to make.  Nothing definite yet though.

But I’m still full of happiness for the world and know I can overcome whatever challenge life might wish to throw at me.

Two postscripts; Broni hits car at fifty miles an hour reverse!  And I’m in the bad books with Fatty though I’ve not yet heard it from his lips and my guess is unlikely too either. Poor boy.

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