This novel might appear disjointed but it isn’t. It is a stream of consciousness that revolves around my life and reflections. What holds it together is my mind. That is the anchor.
What is important in life? What can be put to one side?
Excerpt – 53 and imploding
I smile. I did not realise that there was a competition.
Eternity smiles with me. It is a condescending little smile. I detect a little compassion in it. It is a little arrogant perhaps, a little superiority. I am being patronised.
In a billion years time my words will still be among the best but, just as today, no better than the worst. But at least Jesus will have been proved wrong – the poor will not still be with us!
I have to stop this now. Jan has come in. She is increasingly irritated with me taking time for this writing. I should be doing something. There are rooms to tidy, birthday presents to buy and send, and work to be done. She resents me spending time on this. She regards this as a pointless pile of egotism.
She is usually right.
I should be scurrying through the mounds of marking. I have a pile of work awaiting my attention but no desire to tackle it. We are off to China next week. I will be viewing walls, temples, terracotta armies, squares, and sailing up the Yangste. I have taken my first anti-malarial tablet today. We decided against the Japanese Encephalitis jabs and the Hepatitis B. The nurse explained to me that you catch Hepatitis B the same way as AIDS inferring I would be OK if I didn’t shag any Chinese babes while I was over there. I assured her that I didn’t think that particular jab would be necessary. Babes of any variety do not find me particularly magnetic these days.
I ache. My joints are seizing up, my waist expanding and my hair receding. Perhaps Chinese babes are impressed with these characteristics. After all they are signs of success. I have achieved this vast age, am obviously fact, and have wealth enough to travel. I am a biological success. They would covert my genes for their offspring.
Somehow I can’t see them falling over each other to fight Jan for my affections. Life has its phases. There are some compensations.
I will eat Chinese delicacies, drink slightly different alcoholic beverages, meet up with old friends, talk and reminisce, watch the sights, takes a million photos and come home.
So what is this all about?
I am sitting here in front of this screen. I have tidied my desk and put my heaps of CDs away. I counted them. I have about 3000. I am a collector. I am not sure why. It displays some psychological flaw.
Rog phoned and wanted Nick’s number but I didn’t have it. It is raining outside, grey and dreary with no prospects for improvement. Cars are passing along the road feet away from me and making a hiss as they spray water. Tom is at work in an architect’s office. He has a future designing mounds for the establishment. My dog sleeps at my feet contently. He does not like rain and has a bladder that was designed for an elephant. I have a hangover from drinking too much beer and wine last night. I am still tempted to roll a joint.
I haven’t quite stopped yet. Jan stomped past. I want a piss again. I have nothing to report. Life goes by.
I am a trifle bored. I intend to shut this down so that I can do the required work. It is only fair to do my bit.
Fuck it. I decided to go on. I am enjoying myself. Jan can go fuck herself and take her stomping elsewhere. After all, tidying can wait. You can never get a mound too tidy. I am aware that this could have fucking repercussions later.
I am compelled to write. Sometimes it flows as if I am connected to something inside myself and it is just using me as a conduit. Idea follows idea. I am not saying that they are brilliant. I am aware that it is all the same junk. It is just that it gets in a groove and those connections spark and I am pulled along.
53 and imploding eBook : goodwin, opher: Amazon.co.uk: Kindle Store