JB Writes Too

Saturday Morning (Something In the Way)…18/05/08

I’ve washed the dishes and drunk all of the coffee. I’ve cleaned up my room, in the hope of cleaning up my life. “Something In the Way” plays and I remember how I was suicidal, suicidal in Scotland. I remember sitting a car, at some ungodly hour, in Edinbough, with two sisters, begging them - to make me stop doing what I was doing to myself.

I couldn’t stop
I couldn’t stop
I couldn’t stop

No matter how I tried. I remember their faces, the way they looked at me, with disdain
Like I was crazy
I guess I was
I guess I am
I remember that
Yet my memories for the short term
have all but disappeared
I need to write things down all the time, as I forget, what I am supposed to do. I go to the cupboard for example, to change my bedsheets, I am in the cupboard, looking for the sheets I need to wash -
they are on the floor
I am on my hands and knees
cleaning the rugs
Stacking the chairs
On the titanic
As “Something In the Way” plays.