The timeless clock

I’ve lost track of time again.

Good intentions have flown out of the window and I’ve not had a chance to say goodbye before they’ve vanished.

I know what I should be doing, must be doing, could be doing …but then something tells me it’s not worth it and then it’s gone again.

Aimless hours fly past.

Or do they stop. Does time stop?. It seems that way at times, that I’m stuck in the same loop of my life, the endlessly depressing cycle of terrible familiarity that has bred utter contempt.

I look around me and nothing brings me joy, just fear. Fear that end of our predicament is in sight but that we will, as tends to happen, over indulge ourselves in senseless acts to make up for lost time and that rather than becoming a better place, we will face a time of hysterical over reaction and fevered blame.

I want no part of that. but then I want no part of anything, not really. I struggle with everything and the slightest moment of perceived happiness is immediately crushed by the chastening whip of reality.

I want the world to stop.

I want to get off. I want to be alone. Yet not alone but I want that which I can’t control, other people’s emotions and their unpredictable nature which upsets and frustrates me in equal measure. I want people but on my terms, not theirs.

Selfish? Yes, perhaps, but also a deeper appreciation that a settled me leads to a settled life and it’s when things are outside my control that I lose focus and begin to crumble.

Time. I need time. I want time. I want to stop and think, not be always wary of the hour passing or the next date and time in my life.

I feel pathetic. I feel crushed by choice and no choice, crushed by indecision unless not making a decision is a decision which is decisive which case that’s not indecision.

Time is my enemy. I get older, more…broken, watching others do what I should be doing and might be doing if it was just me, but it’s not. I want to share things with her but she seems so unfocused these days, so far from what I want her to be, not just for me but fur her own health and enjoyment. I want to recapture what we had but all we ever do is make more misery.

I’m tired now. Tired and irritated. Tired of everything. Tired of time and it’s remorseless tread, tired of inaction because the action seems beyond me and I’m too feeble now to act.

I’m tired of time.

They say it waits for no man.

I wish it would wait for me.

In theory…

Bill Gates is the Devil!

Well I hope someone told his wife.

Seriously, it’s another example of some of the wild accusations hurled about in Twitterland when it comes to vaccinations and Covid.

Today, in familiarly depressing ways, I have read that the vaccines have terrible side effects, that the vaccines kill rather than heal (Must have missed the millions of deaths…) and that the vaccines are part of a programme to cull us!.

I despair, I really do. Fragile mental health is seriously affected when people post nonsense such as this and my blocked account list seems to swell with every passing day. I despair that some of these ….theories…attract some many supporters who see the Illuminati behind every new vaccine on offer and who join in enthusiastically with every more bizarre comment.

It’s depressing and yet these ideas get traction because there’s such a lack of trust in this world and lies become the new truth as they gradually attract support by people who are fed up with the established order and therefore scramble to ally themselves with anything that pushes against the establishment and goes against the grain.

Yeah! I’m fed up with it all. It’s just so wearing to read nonsense day after day when people are dying and we should rein in these wild fantasies and offer up respectful silence instead of throw out wild accusations that hurt those struggling to survive and mourning the loss of those near and dear to them.

But this worlds a mess. It’s a world of lies, mistrust, fakes and frauds and it seems that only those kinds of people truly thrive and prosper whilst the rest of us get mowed down by yet another theory designed to cast doubt on the hard work done by the skilled scientists, doctors, nurses and millions of others who are sacrificing so much for us.

What an ungrateful race we are, so selfish and nasty.

And I can’t stand it anymore.


I sat a while, becalmed,

Beneath its golden stare,

I felt it’s warmth,

Upon my skin,

I felt my soul,

Laid bare,

I closed my eyes,

Lest brilliant light,

Cast shadow in my sight,

The colours of the rainbow danced,

Against dark background, bright.

I dreamed I lay on foreign shores,

The burning sand beneath,

White horses danced in sea lashed foam,

Fish swam midst coral reef,

I dreamed of places yet to be,

I dreamed of places old,

Of walks along ancient trod paths,

The lands of heroes bold,

Beneath its glare, the mountain stood,

And I atop it’s peak,

Beneath me lands of lake and stream,

Of mysteries to seek,

I stood in silent thoughtfulness,

In temples built by man,

The craftsman’s mark upon its wall,

Each stone, precise, by plan,

I stood amongst the people,

As they went about their day,

I sat and talked and prayed with them,

I heard them sing and say,

They praised the light,

So high above,

That blessed their waking hours,

That looked upon them,

Golden eyed,

Imbuing them with powers,

I saw it, felt it,

In my heart,

Behind closed eyes,

In dreams,

I raised my hands like supplicant,

To capture golden beams,

They danced so merrily, upon,

My palms, cupped, catching rays,

The sun I yearn to see once more,

And bathe in all my days.



Falling down ….again.

This malaise is wearing me down. The apathy, the drudgery, the sameness of it all.

I think I should write my blog but then those feelings work their way into my psyche and beat me down and I realise there’s no point because I have nothing to say, or nothing to say that people want to hear.

I’ve lost enthusiasm. I’ve lost the ability and poetry seems a struggle now. In fact I can’t recall the last time I poured myself into writing any.

I read stuff by others and my sense of failure just grows. So much better than anything I can write, more lucid, more fitting, more cutting, just better in every aspect. My once flourishing vocabulary now seems pitiful in comparison.

The day seems long. Just one continuous day broken by occasional episodes of disrupted sleep. Is this 2021 or 2020 part 2?. Nothing changes and the light at the end of the tunnel is hidden behind layers of gloom. The weather is miserable, constantly dreary and grey with the hills hidden in the mist and the repetitive nature of my limited exercise only adds to my misery. Familiarity is indeed breeding contempt.

Work is work. Unchanging, miserable, dreary, like the weather.

I should be happy?. Autistic happy?. Routine, no distractions, no people? But I’m not. I just yearn for brighter days and something different because although the routine and lack of distractions are lovely, this isn’t my choosing, this isn’t my set up. I’m cramped on a tiny table, missing the things I need, struggling to cope when I get calls I can’t handle, wary of another meltdown and wanting to cry,

I’m forced into it. No time to arrange…sort myself out but thrust cruelly into the situation and trying to do my best…and then feeling it’s not enough.

I’m not alone, I know that but my ADHD is rampant and my Autistic senses are in overdrive. I’m masking even though I don’t need to because I can’t get through to people and get them to see. I seem to spend my life worrying that I can’t educate others about me and that’s yet another failure on my part. It’s so tiring and confusing.

Travel, my love, is now so unlikely I feel my heart breaking. I can see no light in the tunnel nor feel the heat upon my skin. I’m beaten down by others, the anti-vaxxers, the headline quotes who never read the whole story but use the headline to make false points, the liars, the cheats and just the nasty vicious inhabitants of social media and the wider world.

The news destroys me with its unrelenting misery. It’s continual focus on death and gloom and trauma. It’s giving me ptsd just from watching the horrors unfold. I know they are there, I know they are happening but is there nothing good in this world?. Nothing good that is newsworthy? Nothing happy?.

I’m tired. I’m tired of everything. I’m tired of living. I’ve had enough.

I’m falling down.


But this time I don’t want to get up again.

I’m glad that’s over!

I’m glad Christmas is over. I know I say it every year but even in such strange circumstances as we find ourselves, I’m glad it’s done and dusted.

It was a little strange, a bit of a nothing experience really and the fact that it was a bright and sunny day again did nothing to engender a feeling of Christmas spirit on the day itself.

We had our walk, exchanged presents that we both knew we were getting and had a fairly ordinary roast dinner. It could have been a Sunday or an anniversary on any other day and only the festive lights and array of cards told a different story.

I remember starting 2020 with a glimmer of hope, a hope that this year some things might improve. By May time that glimmer had been extinguished and I refuse to raise my hopes that next year will be any different.

Gripped by a pandemic, house prices going even further beyond what our meagre wages will ever afford, getting older, adding other conditions to those we already suffer with and slowly falling apart because, as with so many others, the world seems a horrid place to be at the minute.

I’m tired. Bone weary. Half way through a three week break that feels stressful and tiring and dull and bothersome. Dreading the new year and work and the prospect of more for less and grand ambition at the expense of my sanity.

New Years resolution?. Revolution is what we need. Not armed rebellion but a growing movement that says we are all thoroughly fed up with the way this is all going. Not weird rants shrieking about government genocide or saving money by killing pensioners but realistic conversations about incompetence and rampant cronyism and how simply out of touch the government is.

And then there’s Brexit. A thin deal not worth its 2000 pages, a paper over the cracks deal that betrays fishermen and opens up all sorts of worrying issues as to where this lot are taking us. The very fact that a minister is apparently looking into bringing back the Death Penalty should have all right thinking people repulsed if this is where we are headed. A gloomy picture indeed.

So, on that note, happy new year! ..or as happy as you can make it. I wish you and yours a peaceful and prosperous and safe one.

Take care out there!

My favourite tv of 2020

An unusual blog post for me but hey, it might catch on (It won’t)

So, what have been the best things I’ve watched this year?. Well, mainly Netflix have landed me some gems but there are a couple of old favourites in this list as well…so, in no particular order..

1 Raised by Wolves.

Ridley Scott’s Sci-fi drama about children being raised by Android parents. With an amazing turn by Amanda Collin as ‘Mother’ and a fine supporting cast including Travis Fimmel of ‘Viking’s’ fame, it’s a stunningly shot series worth watching.

2 Alice in Borderland

This Netflix series is, I believe, Japanese in origin and follows three men thrust into a world where you have to play increasingly sinister games in order to survive. Violent, surprising, intriguing and only 8 episodes long, you won’t be bored with it.

3 Still Home

Another Netflix series, this (at times) gruesome series is Korean and follows a group of survivors in a block of apartments, trapped when the outside population, and some inside, turn into monsters. There are some genuinely emotional hits as well as characters you’ve come to like succumb to this condition.

4 Kingdom

Yes it’s Netflix again and it’s Korean again. A gruesome zombie series set in the 17th century?. That’s a guess. Full of action and left wide open for a third series. Here’s hoping.

5 Bosch

Amazon Primes fantastic police drama featuring Titus Welliver as the eponymous ‘hero’. Based on the books by Michael Connolly, it’s a well constructed tale of a driven cop, willing to bend the rules to get what he wants. Fine acting from Welliver, Jamie Hector and Lance Reddick amongst others.

6 The Repair Shop

Probably doesn’t need much introduction this but BBCs show which promotes the amazing talents of some of the country’s finest restorers is just marvellous television. Emotional, full of genuine amazement and gob smacking repairs, it’s worth an hour of anyone’s time. And yes it’s genuinely moved me to tears at times.

7 Scandinavian ‘police’ shows

Lumping a few together here. Bordertown, Cardinal, Wallander, Young Wallander to name but a few. Stunning photography, breathtaking landscapes, gritty tales full of intrigue and acting of the highest standard. It’s hard to think of a genre that I find more compelling and I’m not a fan of ‘cop’ shows. I never saw Wallander originally but Kenneth Branagh is superb in the title role.

8 The goes wrong show

Utterly brilliant and inspired. These ‘plays’ where everything goes wrong are an absolute joy. Deliciously clever, genuinely laugh out loud, the series was an undoubted highlight during a grim year.

And one flop…

Friday Night Dinner!

Oh I so wanted a comedy on this list but the dearth of decent sit comes rumbles on. FND was my favourite of recent times and I have laughed out loud at several episodes but Series 6 was utterly dreadful. Gone were the familiar catchphrases and the quirky characters and situations to be replaced by formulaic writing and uninspired, going through the motions episodes. Such a let down after such highs!.

And there it is. I’m sure I’ve missed one or two and I’m not even sure I saw a couple of these this year but hey, it’s been a strange one.


I’m in there somewhere

This week I’m thinking about Christmas.

I’m being forced into it by five days, thus far, of my partner decorating trees and putting up an abundance of decorations of all colours and shapes, some even musical…and ghastly.

I’m being forced into contemplating the hideousness of Christmas Tv with more misery in the soaps and more repeats. Film premieres that I saw ten years ago and Mrs Brown’s Boys just because, well, let’s add to the hell and misery of the festive season!

These are the ‘stars’ I’m gazing at and in doing so I’m pondering if God really does have a sense of humour because either he really likes Mrs Brown …or he thinks it’s funny to inflict it on us.

I recall a time when you purchased the ‘Radio Times’ double edition and went through it, highlighting everything you wanted to watch over the festive period.

I did it this year for the first time in several years and my highlighter remained dry and unused.

I despair at the lack of originality on tv. ‘Call the midwife’ may be a fine and enjoyable programme to some but 90 minutes of it?..and Enders episodes of soaps that will no doubt involve adultery or murder or general unpleasantness all round. Cheery stuff in the cheeriest of years.

Of course my stargazing involves 200 channels that I can ignore because Sky are no better and whilst I enjoy ‘Elf’ and ‘The Santa Clause’ I have no wish to see them for the twentieth time on every channel, repeated ad infinitum. Where are the new, genuinely funny Christmas films that don’t involve sex or swearing or nauseating sloppiness but are just…fun?.

Perhaps I should admit to growing old and being out of touch…except I’m out of touch with everyone and each generation. I’m sorry, it’s just me and this time of year.

So enjoy your viewing. I hope you find something you like and hey, if it’s a certain Irish mam then do be it.

But for me, I think I’ll switch the Tv off and pop outside and look up at some real stars and hope and pray, in my own way, that next year is a better one for all of us.

White Horses

A stray horse,

Reared itself from the green and blue,

And laid itself at my feet.

I saw it fall and reached down,

But it slipped away,

Through my fingers.

I saw it run back,

Carried upon the current,

Swept back to foamy embrace,

Of its brethren.

Another ran in, leaping joyously,

Arching through thin air,

Bitter cold, no barrier to its surge,

I felt it’s tongue,

The sharp sting,

The icy tendril,

Lashing against bare skin,

Shivers sent, toe to head.

And more came,

Mad, frantic dash,

Racing one another,

To reach me first,

To knock me back upon the sand,

And pause,



White horses of the sea,

Visitors, tight maned and firm of tail,

Towards the beach,

And where I stand.


Ah I’m a slippery little devil!

Said I’d blog and I keep forgetting to rhettin* to do so, 8nfuriating fur me but hey, you migh5 be mightoumoleased!

Now, before you get your eyes tested, yes, I did write all that and no, I’m not losing it (been lost a veeeery long time) but this just illustrates how my mind and my fingers are on two very different wavelengths when it comes yo con here to …or even ‘to coherent writing!’

I know where I want to put m6 fingers but they then slip…or then they slip…onto another letter which becomes another word…and I don’t think it’s appreciated how difficult I a tualk6 find writing all this to be.

And there’s another one. I did write ‘actually’ actually!.

I find it intensely frustrating and it takes ages to go through what I write and correct th3 horrendous misspellings and numbers appearing where letters should be (I’m looking at you ‘the’) and paragraphs that have absolutely no meaning to me because I can’t tell what i5 is that I wrote in the first place! …and there’s ‘5’ creeping in to ‘it’!.

It’s horrible. Do 8nslow my brain or my fingers? …and there it is again…’I slow’ ..not…whatever the hell that is!. Is th3 …grrrr…problem with my mind or my digits…or both?.

Perhaos im inventing my own language instead of ehh sh because hey, let’s face it, that’s had its day.

Perhaps I’m inventing my own language instead of English..yeah, fingers and brain are waaay out of sync.

So, there you have it…again. My apologies for the Jack o& writing but…good grief…this is how it goes and so now you see it, warts and all…and yes that is ‘warts’ not walnuts and all…because that’s just nuts!

Will try and do better. Promise. Just don’t hate me if I do t. Don’t!

The times they are a-changing..


Sometimes I look at the world and struggle to cope with the sheer insanity of things I see and hear and read about. I shake my head in bewilderment at decisions made by our elders and betters (cough!) and at the attitudes displayed by my fellow men (and women).

I struggle with a government that panders to its people by allowing such laxity for five days around Christmas and doesn’t seem to understand that people who mingle might have come from a hundred different backgrounds in terms of isolation or not and exposure to the virus. It doesn’t matter if it’s two households or ten households or an entire street, allowing five days and effectively saying that people can travel anywhere might be a recipe for disaster, in winter, when the NHS is already at high levels of occupation due to the fact it is Winter.

I understand, in case people think I’m callous about this, that families want to be together at Christmas but, is it essential?

Will the world end if Aunt Joyce doesn’t see little Teddy at some point between 23-27 December?.

And think about it. It’s Christmas. It involves drinking and in some cases, over drinking and reckless abandonment of common sense. It is not a wise time to encourage laxity when laxity is predictable and avoidable!. It makes no sense.

People party, they have friends around. How is this ‘three households’ going to be monitored?. How?. More pressure on the police and the services to try and maintain order at a time when people are even less inclined to follow unwelcome and restrictive rules.

I despair.

I really hope I’m wrong and that there are no spikes two or three weeks later. I really hope we don’t all suffer because a few individuals took advantage and pushed at the boundaries until they broke. I really hope.

Times that are a-changing, and I really am scared that this is too much, too fast.

But boy, do I hope I’m wrong!

Stay safe. Stay sensible. Take care.