Hidden Neck

The emotional hardships of life are manifesting themselves on public parts of my body.

I don't help myself, clawing, scratching, squeezing....A self perpetuating problem bursting for the moment of orgasmic divorce.

Will they look, can I hide?

.....who would judge?! Yet I judge myself.

To touch deems pro-action, ignorance feels sloppy....limbless thrashing

Help is a hurdle, only a course fingernail away

A Happy Christmas...with Granny...without Icky

This is where we spent Christmas 2008...happy memories...i think you can see Granny drinking sherry in the window if you look closely.

Return of the Prodical Son

So I'm back in LDN having spent a lovely 10 (ish) days back in Bristol with the family. Granny was there but Rich was not which meant the numeric balance was at least consistent. Granny seemed to have a great time and quite astonishingly seems to be getting younger, her mind is still so sharpe and dynamic. She is so adaptable to modern situations (like the flat party where she tried to chat up Carol Vodermans boyfriend) and displays such an unwavering zest for every moment that she is gratefully given. I think at least she was able to have a nice chill out without the marauding hoards of her second wave of grand children. Lasting memories of being home are a lot of laughter, a dry mouth (alcohol abuse) and an overwhelming sunny feeling that I'm glad to be part of the family I am - and i don't feel remotely embarrassed/girly/cheesy saying it....I must have grown up!

Spoke to Rich as well, was lovely to hear his voice but he was upset he wasn't with us over the holidays. Gave him the classic emotionally retarded response that he wasn't missing anything and to stop be silly and make the most of his trip. Must have been hard though being with a load of tenuously linked 'friends' and travelling buddies you are probably a little tired of. Felt a bit bad for him, especially as Paul had emailed him a photo of a bucket of bread sauce...Rich's elixir...'would you like some Christmas dinner with that bread sauce?'

I noticed that everybody, including me, seemed more forthcoming with telling each other that we loved them. It was my Granny that started it, shes getting older now, 85 years old she was on the 28th December. It really is lovely to hear and you can't help but think that no problem in the world is big enough to take your attention away from that. It will be three years before granny comes back to our house for Xmas, wherever we might be by then...maybe it was her way of inextricably saying there wont be many more, maybe the end is on her mind, maybe she wont give in the stoic northern upbringing that she is accustomed too.

I'm over complicating this...Granny is the most gentle, loving, pure spirited woman i have ever had the pleasure to know...I am privileged to be able to call her my Grandmother xxx

And So It Begins

I thought it would be good to get some thoughts out, a form of therapy i have heard it referred. I'm sceptical to how true or effective this might be but i enjoy becoming obsessed with new gadgets and gizmo's and i think this might be 'my new thing'. So far so good, Ive uploaded a picture, filled out my personal info (begrudgingly) and am now on the hunt for followers - I'm worried this might confirm a fear that I'm really not that insightful or interesting and my fragile ego may retract (through lack of cultish followers) before it has a chance to flourish. Only a moment of intense bordem and shite TV has encouraged me to arrive at this juncture. Quite glad it did but seems somewhat depressing that watching a programme entitled 'Young Hot Royals' was only minimally less exciting than essentially talking to myself on this.