谁他妈抽了我的中南海? – 26th February 2020

“a parent catching her child with cigarettes and forcing him to smoke the whole pack.”

Despite my father dying of lung cancer when I was a baby, my mother kept smoking for another 15 to 20 years after, then gave up in her early 60s and lived for another 20 years, though she suffered from COPD in the last 5 or so years which restricted her a lot.

I grew used to her smoking though I actually have no real memory of her puffing on a cigarette. Of course it was only natural her naughty son would steal an occasional cigarette, find a way to light it and go off down the end of the garden and practice smoking. I could be an adult too.

It was a great game. Waiting for my mother to leave her packet unattended, gradually sneaking a couple more each time. I was never caught but I’m guessing she knew. When I had upgraded to smoking in my bedroom I would get caught once or twice and my mum just tutted and asked where I got the cigarettes from to which I would guiltily lie. She couldn’t really say much without looking like a hyprocrite.

I also upgraded to stealing my grandfather’s beer which he kept stored in an outdoor shed. I loved the feeling alcohol gave me. I also remember being able to open my gullet so the liquid went straight down without gulping. A talented 13 year old I was becoming.

When my mum gave up smoking I had already started earning my own money and had developed my own addiction. I was proud of her giving up. I still hated myself too much to try. It wasn’t until much later when my son was born that I eventually stopped and that took a huge effort. At that point I was still secretly smoking at work and stuffing down packets of mints so my wife wouldn’t detect it. But eventually I stopped.

I still have dreams about that and sometimes I hit lucidity within the dream and wonder about the fact that I still smoke sometimes. It’s a weird feeling. I really hate the smell of burning cigarettes now and try to avoid going to bars and restaurants where smoking is permitted, something which is still common throughout Asia.

If the Chinese want to make a silent protest towards their government they should surely quit smoking and stop that tax money ending up in the pockets of their leaders! But cigarettes are like a handshake there, a different cultural definition.

Anyways, I was never forced to smoke a whole pack of cigarettes fortunately, though everyone knew the story of some kid that it had been forced upon. Did it ever happen or is it just urban legend?

This is England….

Gratitude Journal

I am so happy and grateful that I could quickly get over an injustice towards me.
I am so happy and grateful that I don’t have to teach today because the students are doing exams.

To-do list

  • Finish death course ✅
  • Read the Bandcamp article ✅
  • Staple exams
  • Write a blog post ✅
  • Practice eye gaze technique ½

A long day stuck in the classroom with nothing to do but read, which was OK, just a little lacking in stimulation. My eyes hurt from looking at the screen so much.

I went to the psychiatrist after school and got new medication. I mentioned to him I had had a difficult emotional event on Monday but after a short period of time I have managed to overcome it. It felt good to tell him about this.

It later got me thinking about how much I trust this person to open up to because I feel a little judgemental towards him as he is from a different culture. Is that fair? Probably not. But it is important to talk to someone you feel comfortable with.

In the evening we went to Nong Nik’s graduation dinner. Amy drank quite a lot and showed a lot of love and affection to her mum. As we drove home though she was very animated about her frustrations with living in Thailand. It’s an ongoing source of concern and I’m not sure how to help. Moving back to Australia isn’t a very realistic option for us at the moment.

I am also not quite happy at the moment either. This could be connected with Kimi’s death which has made me re-evaluate things somewhat. Amy says I can quit school any time and she will go work in Australia. This is a possibility but I still would like to see if I can remain happy at a school and learn to deal with the stupid events better.

Thursday is another easy day of teaching and I will try to enjoy it as much as I can, stay in the present. Remember to breathe, remember you could die tomorrow. Let’s try not to make anyone cry today.

Paddy Wagon – 17th October 1983

Paddy paddy paddy wagon
Take you to the nick
Paddy paddy paddy wagon
Do just the trick
Arrested from all hope
At last night’s do
It was a fun party
Til the coppers joined in too

7th May 2023 – This possibly connects to a great party at someone’s house in Colehill. I think it was someone I vaguely knew from a year or two below me in school. It was fun for a while, a big house with lots of rooms to discover, parents away.
But it got boring watching the trendy kids dance to mind-numbing disco crap so I went around to find rooms empty of people and started stealing little bits and pieces that might go unnoticed for a while. As I got more into it though I started taking more.
The next day I heard that the police had been called to come and investigate and I waited at home wondering if I would get arrested. Nothing came of it in the end though. My apologies to any of the kids that I may have traumatised.

The Week That Was – 27th March 1983

Record of the Week: Sex Gang Children – Song and Legend

27th March 1983
FEEL ILL

28th March 1983
AT SCHOOL – QUITE A GOOD DAY
FELT ILL LATER

29th March 1983
ILL AND AWAY

30th March 1983
ILL AND AWAY

31st March 1983
HOLIDAY
Went to doctor – usual
Contemplating getting Atari

20th Feb 2023 – My diary says it’s Maundy Thursday and I had no idea what that is. Then I see that this is something to do with Easter as the following day is Good Friday. Don’t recall ever having a holiday from anything on this day since.
‘Went to doctor – usual’ – what the hell does ‘usual’ mean? Maybe I was going there often and just being told I was ill. I knew that much already!
Part of the reason I was probably sick a lot was that since starting junior high school I never spent the money my mum gave me each day on lunch, instead saving it to buy records at the weekend, which I would then have to smuggle into home, often leaving them outside, hidden in bushes, until the coast was clear. I didn’t want to have to explain where the money came from to buy them. A few times mum would see my ever-expanding collection and ask where I got them all from to which I lied that I was just borrowing most of them from friends.

1st April 1983
DIDN’T DO MUCH
STILL NOT FEELING TOO GOOD

2nd April 1983
GOT THE ATARI
FUCKIN’ ACE

20th Feb 2023 – My handwriting was so bad that I started practising writing with capital letters all the time. Later, when I didn’t want mum to see what I was writing in my diary (not that I think she ever bothered to look) I would return to an illegible scrawl, which my poor eyes are going to have trouble deciphering.
Perhaps strangely, I don’t recall the Atari but have fond memories of other games systems and early computers. I do seem to recall the Atari being a big deal.
Rupert had one now that I think about it but the only game he had was Pong. This was amazing enough for us at the time. We couldn’t believe that we could play a game on our TV. We sat in his living room for ages playing but soon got distracted with things outdoors instead, and then later, distracted with alcohol. Games were expensive too, so if you bought one you’d want to make sure you really would enjoy it.
Hmm – so searching for a picture I think Rupert just had the Pong console and not the Atari that took cartridges (the 2600), which I think is what I had.

The 2600 and cartridges