There was a break in the blog, a time when everything was chickens with their heads cut off, hallucinations in the night, panting and fidgeting and then sinking ever lower until I could barely filter my own thoughts.
And then my sister died, and I started smoking again. I won’t say too much more about my sister except that she was onto something, something good and spiritual, and I’ve made a promise to remember, to continue that good work on her behalf.
I will say something about the smoking though: it’s damn good to be back. Any guilt I feel is more than made up for by the return of my sanity. I suppose there’s a “right” time to quit for all of us sinners. This wasn’t it.
I’ve still got the Yamaha and I still drive it like Billio (whoever he is), and at some point I did finally bury that placenta in the garden. There may have been chanting involved but I’m not sayin’.
There’s something in the air recently, something that’s driving me forward, and my family too. It’s all about Punk Rock. Well, not all about Punk Rock, as there’s no spitting involved. Which isn’t really Punk Rock at all, is it? Suffice it to say (for now) that there are a lot of exciting ideas nudging me, and I’ve chosen to stop ignoring them.
Stay tuned.
This Train is for Gourock 