In Forty Years I Have Never

Killed anyone.

Broken any serious laws.

Been married.

Unintentionally experimented with Heroin.

Written a decent book.

Been to Niagra Falls.

Bungee Jumped.

Been to Jamaica.

Played with Tigers.

Owned a new car.

and am I pissed off about this. No, not really.

My bucket list is full of ticks but has way more empty boxes.

I am just kind of stuck in 2nd gear. My bearings need replacing. I am not transmitting torque. (Gearbox Analogy Ends Here OK)

How do I know this?

The thrills of life have been replaced by routine. No longer do I feel excited by music. Something is wrong.

Maybe I am listening to the wrong kind of music. Fixed that problem.

Now, why do I feel out of time and place again? Will I ever grow up? (read ‘be confident’)

Will I ever attempt to start my own block party? Will I ever meet anyone new ever again?

Will I ever feel that thrill again? (read ‘be in love/lust’) Will I ever rest my head again? (read ‘ Smoke a spliff’)

I wear grey. My hair is grey. For the first time in my life, My outlook matches my clothes.

Don’t get me wrong. Everything is wrong. But if I don’t struggle I go comfortably numb.

and stay that way for days. And stay that way for weeks. And stay that way for months.

And stay that way for two years. Two fucking years. And my followers on WordPress have slowed to a crawl.

(And all the websites I used to like have been the subject of improvements that have completely changed the experience of using them. Hence, they now in the main, suck. I except WordPress from this category, because it remains, on the whole, awesome.)

Well, thats my little moan. Now time to imbibe. Cheers.

PS. (I suppose I’d better start struggling)



Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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