Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Reg and his burden

Mmm, been haunted by my brain to write the following sentence. Don't expect Shakespeare, this is more a writing exercise than anything worthy of publication. God bless the internet, giving talentless people a voice!


Anyway, here's the sentence.


The solicitor pulled the phone from his boilersuit pocket.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

24/02/08

Wow,

My output is staggering, two blogs a quarter, look out dostoyevsky, lol. Or...whoever.

To be frank, I've been having a rough old time of it. Had serious anxiety problems for about six months now, become a recluse, stopped going to meetings, stopped communicating with people.
For someone who'd normally label themselves a career cynic i have to admit i've been extremely touched by the patience and love i have been shown by family and friends. It's only when truly vulnerable that you can appreciate just what goodness there is in the world. Admittedly, i will probably be bemoaning my existence in a few hours so enjoy it while it lasts.

If i were ever to appear on Mastermind I'm afraid my specialised subject would have to be Prescription medication and contemporary therapy techniques because, frankly, i've done the lot. Currently undergoing treatment with EMDR, which is supposed to be very good with anxiety and ptsd. I have to admit it is doing something, although at the moment it seems to be making things worse not better. I'm told this is part of the process and trusting that is difficult but more constructive than hiding away praying for a miracle. It's weird, i keep getting flashes of things that happened years ago and being really connected to the feelings that i felt then. This is all new to me really, I've been so off my head for the last 20 years that i don't really know what a real feeling is. So, it's disturbing but somehow legitimate and tangible. Hey, I guess i just mean real. It's funny but i still equate feelings with drug experiences. When i first got sober, I equated that elation and clear-headedness (that pink cloud feeling) with a coke buzz. I guess i'm just a strange guy.

Well i suppose i'd better get on with something now, probably watching football lol. Terrible scenes at St Andrews yesterday, not only was Adebayor's hair a disgrace but Eduardo broke his leg. Some of the pundits described how he'd had his dreads cut off. Guy's those weren't dreads, they were cane rows and there is a difference. Still, Chelsea v Tottenham today and as a neutral i hope Tottenham win. A Chelsea win would be boring.

Maybe next time I'll write you a story. I hope i never get famous, my life is a tabloid journalist's wet dream.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Another day, another dollar

So.. let's do the introductions first. I'm Laylo, I am an alcoholic, addict and sufferer of generalised anxiety disorder, social anxiety disorder and probably some more shit i haven't discovered yet. 'Tis great. Been clean and sober two or so years but my head has gone on holiday somewhere and forgotten to invite me.



What have i done today?



Smoked cigarettes, drank coffee, watched the last ever episode of Star Trek: Enterprise. Thought for the day: If something is worth doing, it's worth doing without Jonathan Frakes. You may be able to tell I'm not a fan. The words supercilious and twat spring to mind.



Wrote a letter to God. There was plenty of swearing, begging, bargaining etc but no pay off. I feel like the guy out of Pi who drills into his own head. It's a temptation but my drill is one of those store's own brand things, it struggles drilling jelly, bless it.



Had an idea for a screenplay; ensemble piece, could play as a comedy or a horror. Did my usual trick of thinking who i'd pitch it to instead of actually writing the damn thing.



Oh yeah, and i signed up to Blogger. For some reason i did so on a day when i have nothing to say. The ole brainpan is cooked.



Been reading Cannery Row by Steinbeck. I have a hankering to be a california hobo; drinking dodgy booze and getting into comedic scrapes with the well meaning folks of the row. Of course, the reality is that it is raining icy cold rain down the window, and the only homeless round this way are burning smack and crack daily and relieving the town's motorists of their car stereos and loose change. Still, we could play it as some enchanted idyll where folks grin to themselves whilst being robbed at knife point. 'Those good old boys down the row are up to their old tricks, bless em'. It could work, maybe.