8th August 2020:
I‘m sat at the back in the local Costa on a Saturday lunchtime, watching the world carry on like nothing ever happened. My Lady passed away nearly six months ago now. Mental… Apart from the masks, things seem back to normal. Snotty unmasked kids, screaming and crying around the ankles of the stressed out sweaty parents. Great… I really don’t want this “normal”. After everything this year, the thought of society going back to the dirty, inconsiderate and selfish ways before lockdown just stresses me out.
Yesterday was shit. Really shit. I’d not even heard the train for what feels like ages and this one just rolled in instead of mind that train, what train? Splat! Don’t know if I should be grateful for that or not. I’m supposed to be researching some clients for a project my friend and former colleague has started. I just couldn’t get my head in the game. Staring at the documentation and absolutely nothing was going in. Damn it, where’s my ‘storm’ now?
In the end, I just scrabbled around for things to do. Obsessive cleaning, weeding the beds. All of which will always be poignant. Barely a distraction from the intense maelstrom raging in my heart. Of course, the masochist in me put on all the “wrong” songs. Unusually, one was a Gary Moore blues tune. Whilst I was in the middle of crying over it, I decided I should learn to play it. This is why the blues exists in the first place is it not? It seems there are only two things that truly distract me and stop me from bawling. Playing guitar and e-racing. Both of which require a particular kind of focus that for the most part precludes the flow of intense emotions. To clarify, I mean LEARNING on the guitar. There have been many times when I’ve played certain emotionally charged songs and just crumbled mid chord. Some of the songs My Lady and I loved and even jammed together were so beautiful and soulful. Look up “Notion” by Tash Sultana. https://open.spotify.com/track/4hmbwcUs392W3YQzpO0fcj?si=AImAX-0LR3aJxBGTb9YfLw This song made me cry the first time My Lady played it to me. Not even the lyrics, the guitar licks… Her killer voice… I’m sure she’s channelling Jimi and BB King all at once. This songs kills us every time. Even when I started learning it… Nope… Bam! Yet again.
So snapping back to the present, I think I had been up around half hour, in rolled the train… Again. My dear friend and newly adopted sister made me promise to get out today so here I am. Drinking an overly sweet vanilla latte when I asked for a “dash” of vanilla. Couldn’t even be arsed to mention it. So what to do today? My anxiety is building. I’ll finish this post later.
So, I’m home now. I still can’t get motivated. It’s getting really annoying. The heat doesn’t help, being in the mid 30’s. I tell myself ‘It’s the weekend, you can’t sort much out, so chill.’ Yeah right. I know damn well I’m lying to myself. There’s plenty I could get done and I know it and still I’m sat here blogging instead. Strummed a few songs in the garden, that killed half an hour or so. The funny thing is that everyone in their gardens went deathly quiet when I played and start talking again when I stopped. Compliment I guess.
A couple of hours later and after finding that my Greg’s sausage roll had been eaten, I’m pissed off again smoking in the garden listening to pregnancy Yoga ocean waves. What a stupid thing to get pissed off about! My Lady always loved the gentle lapping of waves, we used to go to sleep to it.
I need to get my shit together. I can’t afford to slip back into the broken full on grieving that I was doing early on. Just sitting in the garden, listening to tunes like “The Queen of all Everything”, crying all day. No fanx! And STILL I’m not moving, still pouring out my random thoughts for all the world to see. I’ve not shared this yet so no one has read it that I know of. I didn’t find WordPress very intuitive at first but I’m getting that hang of it. No point doing this if it’s all in the wrong order. So what now? Damned if I know. As My Lady said when referencing the unbidden feelings we had growing inside us… “Learn to surf.”…
The Life and Times of Lord Crookedhorn. 