A song from a doomed soul
“labelled with love”
Do you have a certain song that by the sheer vagaries of a travelled life upon a wide open road has been stolen from you along the way, or do you think like a rational, normal person? Is there a song that conjures the spirit of a loved one, a lost love perhaps, that sees you driving away from another ethereal love of your life whilst taking aloud to the spirit of the past, saying hello to this ghost of your own creation beside you because “Labelled with Love” by Squeeze was playing on the car radio? What’s it feel like when you listen to a podcast and the hourly music choice that breaks the show in two is “Bad Love” by Eric Clapton, and your mind is instantly transported to a hot summer of love in the 1990’s, Malta, Dali, Liverpool, laughter filled board games in the garden as the sun set on a truly happy and settled mind?
Questions. Questions. Who has time for such questions.
Have you received a random act of kindness today and if so, were you as blown to your socks in appreciation of this silly and random act as I was and I guess, still am? Another question, sorry. We’re drowning in questions aren’t we? Not from the barbarians on the television but from ourselves on social media. Login to Twitter. Question after Question. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? So many questions. So few answers. Consider opening a Twitter account with the handle @whydontyoumindyourfuckingbusiness and respond to as many questions as I can find. Have a giggle. Drink some vodka. Stir the shit storm. Decide that my plan of action of answering every question with my own question, a single and brief “why don’t you mind your fucking business” is heresy. You can’t answer a question with another question. Who do you think you are, a member of the Royal Family? Another question, sorry. Do you ever receive overwhelming appreciation for your writing from just one person? There’s another random act of kindness for you.
Do you listen or watch podcast shows as a means of relief and escaping from your own life into someone else’s, the vessel of another’s voice and life drowning out the dark thoughts and incessant howls of the devil on your shoulder, or are you a grounded and sensible human being who deals in facts? Do you pray to a God you don’t believe in that one of your books is a success, or do you avoid setting up such catastrophic fails as they tend to gnaw at your bone marrow just a little too painfully? What do you say to a man who gleefully sits up until 3am nearly every day/evening/morning just to watch a game of baseball? Apologies. I seem to be posing questions to you again and this is supposed to be your show and, who are you again?
Can you watch a film that uses “On a Slow Boat to China” as a background song and not think of Philip Seymour Hoffman singing this to Joaquin Phoenix in The Master? Can you? I bet you’re thinking of this scene right now aren’t you? It’s the same when someone says the word “teeth” and you instantly run your tongue along them don’t you? Or you suck in a little air against your teeth, or touch a persistently painful and troublesome one. The same works when you say “vagina” and that ladies and gentlemen is a silly joke I came up with in the shower, yet I can’t remember why I was thinking of a vagina at the time. Can you remember?
Do you watch movies or do you see them for what they truly are, the predictive programming of a glossy yet dystopian future for all of humanity, or do you use your time in a more productive fashion and masturbate instead? More questions. More apologies. I think I should leave you to ask the questions now, I’ve taken up enough of your time as it is.
Over to you but, sorry, before we start, who are you again?
Just fooling around. Hope it stirred some human emotions in you. Thanks for reading…
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