The Sober Life

  The noise of the self isolation sirens are dying away. The seriousness that greeted us at the start of the original lockdown has been replaced by a numb mundanity as we await the start of the endgame. We will disembark the Corona-coaster dazed and confused, the shutters will go up again on the high street, but what will the world be like and more importantly what will we be like? We have been through war style shortages and the good old blitz spirit on our doorsteps. We had false restarts, double standards, corruption, errors and good old human nature which is now bringing us back around nicely to get ready for… for a new age?....a new enlightenment?...a new awareness of the fragility of life?...Or just the pubs to reopen again so we can get slaughtered with our mates and pretend like this was all a bad dream? The government has given us a road map out of lockdown, a road map that reopens everything back to normal three days before Boris Johnson's birthday. As with all road maps...

THE JOY PARTICLE   NOT HAPPY WITH HAPPY I wrote a poem a few weeks ago which is on the blog post before this one. The poem was written when I was sad, like most poems. It was written during a period I refer to as a T.P.E.( Two Poem Episode) documented in another blog post called A Postcard From Brain Hell. The idea of the poem was to touch on the elusiveness Happiness. I originally started thinking of how radioactive particles decay, I know proper sexy stuff. They have a half-life that obeys a formula. It got me thinking about the idea that if you half the distance to a destination every time, you will move forwards but never really reach it. It brought to my mind that I don't really know what happiness looks like and as a concept it doesn't work for me. I know that happiness is not sadness and it is not boredom or drudgery or suffering. I could tell you if I was happier five minutes ago or maybe have a stab at thinking about it generally, but all levels of happiness seem defi...