A ghost, a shell A left over half-memory of what - on earth - I might have been. Burning bridges while I stride, Leaving those around me, pre-emptive strikes. Lest they, like me, find out too soon Once again, a wager lost. Trust placed in me - a darkened horse. What crazy odds.. Could've stayed …
In a country where not that long ago but certainly pre-Turnbull days, it would have been quite feasible to find oneself downing a scooner in shorts and T-shirt (I won't say singlet) while standing at the bar of a hotel (read pub) next to the Prime Minister or other such exalted presence, equally dressed in …
Continue reading The art of looking good while feeling utterly disposable
Where on earth to start ... getting a tad tired of the old Luctor et Emergo. Decided to ditch the Madopar, it was debilitating and denigrating. Back to the old Kinson drawing board again.
Don't forget, the only prerogative we blokes have is that we are given permission to grow more distinguished as we get older. Have a ripper mate..
Ground control calling Major Rick...
Debriefing/de-mob process has been initiated.. ... and relax ..
On the caffeine progress front things are looking up. Yesterday, I only spilt half my latte, with the passengers's seat bearing the brunt of the slip-up on this occasion. Am just checking in to say, I'll be enjoying a much needed self-imposed retreat, away from the social media minutiae and most other temporal distractions. So, …
Woke up on the sofa at 6am, happy to have had a lie-in. As it had been a rather horrific night, I was keen to see daylight so I jumped up, had a five minute shower and was out the door like a flash... Oh wait, no that must have been a dream or one …
I love a thing we Aussies have, it's called Council Cleanup or Pickup or whatever. What it boils down to is, that if you have some old crap you'd like to rid yourself or your husband of (e.g. his much loved abominably decorative 80s jumpers ..), you simply put it on your doorstop where it …
Continue reading Parkinson’s schmarkinson’s – where there’s a will there’s a way
It's quite a weird kind of disease, I find. Although of course I can't really compare it, thank God, to any other serious ailment as this YOPD is certainly - so far - the biggest curve ball I've been thrown, and yes I'm including my erstwhile hypo-mania/Bipolar disorder/poetic idiosyncrasies*. And it's so peculiar that after …
Funny, the things you unearth when - after a few decades of roaming around this ole world - you feel as though maybe, just maybe you've ended up somewhere you could tentatively imagine you could start breathing and stop treading water... (mixed metaphor alert). Opened another box I had lost sight of for years and …
Estoy dentro de tu maravilloso corazón, Cara Mia. Que sera, sera..
FAO of all those nice people all over the world who can't help staring at my incessant fumbling, stumbling, stammering and shaking. Believe it or not, there is still a sentient being in there somewhere.
