27

Ah, 27. The age when the last folly of youth dissipates into the reality of adulthood - or else absconds towards death in a final protest at growing up.

bottoming out...

right. things aren't improving. lovely time down in dartmoor and the furthest tip of cornwall. but it seems I killed the car on the journey home. I'm endeavouring to look forward to what will go wrong next.

my only ambition is retirement.

it's difficult being a casual athiest. you know that if there's a god, he's against you.

Nothing is Working

Those there are my heart strings.

Don’t pull them so tight.

I’m due fortune soon,

But it’s too late tonight.

It’s crippling this sitting

Waiting to explode

They’d dig me in cities

But still I won’t go.

And angels they live on the cusp of our world

Igniting the fires that burn in ourselves.

So take all this strength and run with it now

Being on your feet is treading new ground.

And good ones, the pure ones are last to be told

That nothing is working and everyone knows.

So give me my break now I’ve done them all proud

If karma’s around, you’d better watch out.

These there are steep steps boy.

Steady there as she goes.