The Perfect Cover

White walls. The wall light has a bulb missing, and a shade missing if you want to be picky. But I wasn’t. I was at my wits end and living with depression and anxiety. My only friend was a twenty a day reefer addict who used to visit me unshaven and unkempt and despite myself and twenty-five years of being a straight man, rather attractive to me. Just my luck, he was a bit of a rogue and soon had me toking night after night with him while we sat up listening to downloaded songs, although he was a musician he never talked shop much so it was all about the moment. We spent our night like that, just smoking and talking and listening to music and watching videos off youtube, myspace and facebook. Placebo, Blur, and The Smashing Pumpkins were our favourites.I tripped, I groaned, I was seduced and overcome. This was poverty and music with the crawling feeling of insanity never far away. There were members of far-right parties around upstairs who threatened violence on you if you looked at them too long. There were screaming teenagers yelling at people down their mobile telephones and slashing the tires of people they did not like. There was the pot dealer in the flat downstairs who used to wake me up with a baggie or two of skunk weed for breakfast. On tick if you like. There was a regular stream of customers to his door and the hallway reminded me a bit of the dealer in a toilet I once visited in the Raves in Reading circa 1991. Yea I tried drugs then but Hell, you only live once. Been there done that. I had other ambitions at the time. I was hoping to study. Science. It was a weird feeling like being so well known for not being a scientist I had to fight a mountain climb every day before I could get past all of the reasons why I could never be a scientist before I actually got around to doing any studying. It was difficult. I never got past 3.14.159 which is Pi which is some maths as you Probably know. I now think I am not cut out for a life of science. Anyway, it’s too academic and academic is boring. That said I now hope to study Latin which is not so boring. anyway, I think that now. I haven’t actually started studying it yet. Hell, I haven’t even got a Latin Dictionary only  a Latin textbook which is from the Cambridge course I want to do. This doesn’t mean I want to go to Cambridge University to study Latin. No. It’s a distance learning course by Cambridge University for beginners aged 8-80 and is very popular having sold 3,000,000 times worldwide!! Well, that what the website says. Wow Wow, Wow! I have read through a few pages of the course textbook and have been impressed with the quality of the material and not overly daunted by the level at which you are expected (going from the textbook) to achieve at. Now all I need is the £240.00 fee! There is always a hill to climb! Sigh! Well, it could be worse. A lot worse. At least, there’s no pot dealer knocking on my door, no late night sesh to excuse myself from or raving lunatics around threatening to smash up my study area. I hope I am not tempting fate!

Seriously I must have really pissed of someone for that to happen.

Well, Its Monday, Monday and I am waiting for my credit card to arrive in the post. Mail has been going missing from the front door so I wouldn’t be surprised if I have to cancel this card as well if it does not arrive AND reach its intended recipient, i.e. me.

My Dad just got off the phone with me and last night went to see Mahler’s Symphony of 1000 Voices. Doesn’t he get around? His complaint – ‘Andrew, It was all in German!’

So that is the end of my little story today. I hope you’re well, reader and I hope to see you again. Cheerio.

Btw. I do not condone illegal drug use.:-)

Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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