A rebel without a clue.

The stones of the Town Hall groan under the pressure of age. I took the bus. Nothing could stop me disappearing today? As I waited and waited the time questioned my decisions. Some subconscious feed provoking my torturous ego. There I was barely coping and overwhelmed with overt thoughts of my insignificance. All the plans within me coming unravelled as the things I need fight against that I have become. As I look up at the blank faced yawning gape of the bus driver as the routine X98 pulls up to alight the pensioners Wetherby welcomes I am straining to vanish. For a number of years I have been numb to what happens around me. It happens; I hear it, but it leaves me emptied of life’s essential beat. Rat-Tat-Tat. Have I become so distanced from the reality of these conversational needs that the booming voiced chorus delivers in waves of banality. I repeat that I am a ghost. I can't imagine when this happened as I was unaware of my own death. This Thursday I am sat hear...

Got up and about for 7:50. Ran bath, washed and brewed coffee. Spoke to mister dogg and told him he's my favourite dog. Off to Leeds for a night to try to find another job. Still not heard from Salsa Mexicana's. Boring old persons on bus. Discussing decline of magpies and cook-coos.  Yes yes: no no. Yes yes they do yes yes. Yes it is. Yes it did. Honest that's what they say! Yes they have, hmm, they have yes. Consanguinity so much to answer for. I recall ignoring DG on Sunday afternoon as he endeavoured to attach himself to me. I can't stand him for a good reason. A person who I used to look forward to seeing immensely all the way from School, through Uni and up to a few years ago. This is only my observation, but he has real issues when he drinks too much and becomes a vibrant example of a sex pest. There is a dividing line in the night between normal discussions and openly obsessive fantascism and I think I want the old Dave back. The swallows have arrived. Wh...