I find myself in a lot of discussions about mental health, depression, suicidal thoughts, and so on. I make no claim of expertise in the matter.

But Stoner via Katie brought up the idea of people saying (or just thinking) that ‘it’s all in your head’, and pointing (I think) to the fact that this must be about the most useless piece of psychiatric advise possible.

Well, of course it’s in my head, you moron. If you break your big toe do I reassure you with the message, “don’t worry, it’s all in your foot”?

“It’s all in my head, you say??? Thank Christ for that. I was worried that it might be in my bum somewhere.”

Anyway. Whatever. I’m just jotting something down for the sake of jotting something down. As usual.

***

I’m sorry that I’m needy
But I’m feelin’ kinda seedy
I think I might be better off in bed
You think I’m being lazy
But I’m going fucking crazy
And every day just fills me full of dread
I am taking all these pills
I don’t take them for the thrills
They’re to kill off all the demons in my head
I wish they’d go away
But I think they’re here to stay
So I think I might just kill myself instead.

***

Linda, today suggested a stream of consciousness concentrating on the word ‘rope’. My own consciousness is hardly a stream these days – more like a puddle. A stream would imply some sort of direction which, in my case, would be towards dark places. A muddy puddle, perhaps. But more like a dark void.

But that’s enough of me. How’s everyone else feeling today?

***

I’ve had a go at life
And life just couldn’t cope
We had a go at sex and drugs
But there was insufficient dope
No chance of a redemption
(I’ve spoken to the Pope)
No point in me just hanging ‘round
When all I do is mope
I’ve a proposal for the devil
I think we might elope
I guess I’ll go and hang myself
Do I have sufficient rope?

***

I wrote a brief response to the doggie people and realised, upon stumbling across it again (somebody actually liked it!) how poorly worked it was and thought, to feel a little less dumb, I should make some basic corrections.

It still doesn’t really work, but it is a post, and I’m struggling to post anything at all at present.

***

Fingers playing
Under the sheets
Minds entwined
Where love greets
Itself. With skin
Heartbeats within
Tap out a tune. That soon
Becomes a melody
For you and me
Perfectly matched
But have barely scratched
With those fingers
What lingers
Beneath the surface

***

I turn up for about 1 in 50 of Sami’s prompts . In truth I don’t turn up to much at all these days.

But I have actually visited the catacombs a few times, though I had almost forgotten – that other life of mine being so far in the past. But since the catacombs themselves are all about past lives I thought that I might pay homage one more time.

***

Christians lying in a row
Secret tunnels down below
Away from Roman prying eyes
Faithful man goes when he dies
This resting place, this final home
Here within the catacomb
Where I, an atheist at best
Am humbled, quietly impressed
By faith itself, by pure belief
By death that came as pure relief
Here rest believers of the past
Perhaps you’ve found your God at last
May your eyes still somehow see
The meaning of the mystery

***

OK …. it doesn’t quite work. But it is 77 words!!

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