New Christmas Single

Sometimes the gods of mental illness bugger off and allow me to be creative. Well this holiday season I have created a Christmas single. It’s called ‘It’s Christmas Time Me Boys’ and has a new slant on the season, being about the Christmas Truce during World War One.

Hope you enjoy it.

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The Great Escape

The Great Escape

I was locked away in the nuthouse on a section for my sins
I’d been too wild and dangerous so I was held in the loony-bin
I knew that I must be there yet I wanted to be home
So I started to make plans to get a chance to go and roam

Now there was a sort of kindness where I could go to have a smoke
A nurse would take me to the gate where I’d suck a cigar down my throat
So on the day I’d planned it looking at maps and various things
I went for a drag in the afternoon I put my butt end in the bin

And then I just ran off from there I legged it down the street
My chaperone she shouted ‘No!’ as I retreated on bare feet
She was too fat and chubby although much younger than me
It turned into a foot race I could easily keep in the lead

I ran over the rail bridge then down the other side
When a police car hailed me and asked if I was alright
I said that I was fine and nodded with a great big grin
Then ran off down an alley buoyed up by adrenaline

I’d evaded my pursuers so I slowed down to a walk
And coming to a junction I went left at the fork
Then found myself on the main road a stone’s throw from the town
So I headed for the centre feeling happy, I’d no frown

I went into the main square feeling like a superstar
I really needed the bus stop but first I wanted cigars
So I went into a shop there and bought some tobacco sticks
But when I stepped outside I saw a sight to make me sick

A policeman and the nurse were approaching cross the square
My journey home was ended and it really wasn’t fair
So I got into the police car to be taken back to clink
What had my journey taught me? What did it make me think?

That when you’re on the run it’s best to stick to where you go
And don’t waste time with shopping, it’s a runaways no-no
And it’s no good as a fugitive when your pursuers just need
To ask anybody that they meet where the barefoot man went please

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I’m Tired of Distractions

I’m tired of distractions
I’ve tried them all
Watching TV
Scrolling Facebook
Playing guitar
Going for a walk
Having a bath
But the knife beckons from my chair-side table
Why don’t I put it away?
Because it calls to me
It is my friend.



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Head Heavy

Head so heavy

It hangs

Or rests upon the pillow


I’m depressed.

No energy for anything.

Spending a lot of time just lying in my bed.

Even the things that I’m supposed to do to cheer myself up are too hard to do. And they don’t work anyway.

So just wasting time. Waiting for this mood to pass.

The length of this post is an indication of how I feel. No creative impulse. No nothing.

Just sad and lost.

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Running Away to Brighton

Work means stress, and eventually it became too much for me.
On the morning of 7th August 2018 I woke at about 3:00am and was suddenly excited.
I felt wide awake and full of beans.
I had an idea.

I got up and turned the computer on.
I had a plan – it was work that day, but instead, I wanted to go to the seaside.
The weather was good, i.e. warm or even hot. What a sumer we’d been having that year.
I thought of places you could get to the seaside on the train and started researching.
I was trying to get to Llandudno.
I tried booking the tickets for a train at 04:38, but I was too late – you couldn’t pick up a ticket if the time to the train leaving is short, and it was too short.

A change of tack was needed
I looked at trains in the other direction.
Down to the south
Down to Brighton, which I know well (and has a nudist beach).
And bingo – I found it.
Your train leaves at 06:03 from Platform 5

So I had to prepare myself
I put on my blue loin cloth and packed a back with something to read and other essentials like cigars, a shirt, a notebook and a camera.
I had loads of time and it was just beginning to get light.
200 yards down the street I saw a black cat by a wall. He looked so cute, I took his picture.
The suddenly, I realised I had missed a trick. It would be a whole lot better if I had my guitar.
So I hot footed it (barefoot) back home and got it.
Start again.

As I approached the station I put a letter through a friends door explaining that I’d run away to the seaside and asking him to telephone work to say that I wouldn’t be in today. (I was supposed to be).

At the train station I collected my ticket from the machine and went to sit outside. I had about 35 minutes until the train was due.
I took out my guitar and started to play
As I started on ‘The Cricket’s Song’ I realised that that song is about being naked in the forest and I was wearing my loin cloth, so I took off the loin cloth and played the song totally naked, as is appropriate
I put the loin cloth back on and played several songs, keeping an eye on the railway behind me.

At the appointed hour I put on my shirt on too and went into the station, to Platform 5 and caught my train.

The train journey was uneventful, as was the tube journey. Then I got on my train on the Brighton Line and settled in a seat in a near empty carriage.
My enthusiasm for the trip had ebbed away and now I began to wonder what on earth was I doing?
I got a phone call from Mike to ask after me (it astonished me that it had taken him this long to get in contact) and I reiterated my doubts about the trip. I said I’d complete my journey and then come home soon.

I got to Brighton and then went to the information desk to get times for trains to return. I got a list, but decided not to return immediately for after all, I was at the seaside. I headed down the hill.

At St. Peter’s church I saw the space where The Warren had had their area that year. Of course, I hadn’t been to Brighton Fringe in 2018. It brought back good and bad memories of my time(s) in Brighton. The grass was very brown, but did seem to be recovering.
I spoke to Mike again.
I wandered down towards the front and went up St. James Street where there are lots of cafes. I went into a cafe that sold Spanish fusion food and bought a spicy Spanish pastie. I talked to the man in there telling him I’d run away. He said to be careful and look after myself.

I took my pasty and went down to the beach.

Brighton Beach
I ate my pasty then found a spot on the beach close to the water.
I took off everything except my breech cloths and went into the water. I was pleasant. I had a little swim, then climbed back out and sat in the sunshine to dry off.

Then I decided that I’d had enough and headed back up towards the station, going through the North Lanes this time.
I contacted Mike to tell ask him to meet me in London because I wasn’t feeling safe. We agreed to meet at Victoria Station.
I got on the train for London.

When I got to London Victoria I was early for meeting Mike so I left the station and went and sat in a small park called Grosvenor Gardens. I found a discarded newspaper and started on the crossword.
When Mike had arrived at Victoria I went looking for him. Found him standing outside another entrance looking the other way.
We went down into the underground and got on a train that was very full up. We sat down.
It was so hot and stuffy I was struggling to breathe, taking great gulps of air.
I was really pleased when we got to Euston and got off the train. I could breathe again.

We got on the train and came back to Rugby.
I walked home.

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I Think I’m Cracking Up

Egg cracked

I feel under constant pressure at the moment, what with money worries and other stuff. I think the stress is making me crack up.

Last night, on the way home, I was thinking of taking my trousers off as I walked, but it was a cold night and somehow I managed to keep walking and keep them on.

Once home, I had the idea to go naked running, but I wanted to wait until the lights went out at midnight and I fell asleep beofre then, so I was saved from that.

On top of all that, I didn’t take my meds last night. I wanted to go mad and have relief from the constant worry and stress. Being mad is a release from all that and fills me with energy and creativity.

So I’m feel like I’m on the edge of a precipice. I could do with something good happening, but of course, in my life, it never does.


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New video ‘The Naked Spaceman’

I can’t do a proper job because I can’t stand the stress, but I do work away at my creative activities – writing and performing plays and songs.

Well, now I have created a video for my most popular song and you can see it here.

The Naked Spaceman thumbnail

Hope you like it. If you do, share it with your friends.

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Too Much Stress

diazepam formula

I applied for something called PIP (Personal Independent Payments) last July. It’s a benefit for people with disabilities and I consider myself to have a disability with my Schizo-affective Disorder.

Well, the decision came back in October that I wouldn’t get it, so I applied for a Mandatory Reconsideration, where I get the people who judge these things to look again and reconsider.

Now it is January and I thought that it was a very long time for them to take over this reconsideration so I thought it about time I found out what was going on, but that would mean making a telephone call and I hate making telephone calls.

In fact, it put me under a lot of stress. I couldn’t do it.

So I dug out some tablets that I had got from the doctor a long time ago. Tablets of Diazepam (otherwise known as Valium). I hoped a tablet of this (2mg) would help to calm me down.

It did a little, but I was still too anxious, so I took another one. That’s 4mg. And finally I was able to make the call.

They told me that a letter had been sent on 29th December, but I never received it. So they are sending it again. But the lady on the phone told me the decision was still negative.

All that stress and nothing to show for it. I will now have to take them to a tribunal to overturn the decision. This knowledge caused my stress to sky-rocket, my heart was beating like a drum.

I had to take more Diazepam. I did take more Diazepam. In fact, another 4mg to try to calm me down.

I am very lucky I have these tablets. Doctors are very cautious about giving them out. But on this occasion I needed them, desperately.

And the department that makes these decisions should be ashamed of themselves. I can’t cope with normal life. I need help and I need that money. They are b*****ds and this isn’t over.

I also need a new supply of Diazepam.

Why is life so hard?


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Opening the Mail

I get scared by letters that come in the post. I tend to leave them at the bottom of the stairs, sometimes for days.

Today I thought I’d try opening all the outstanding letters, but it is hard.

I put on some gentle music and started. But the first letter was from the bank and it made me burst into tears, not because it was bad news, it was just information on the changes to charges for going overdrawn – I am not overdrawn. It’s just the stress of dealing with the bank and money and all that stuff overwhelmed me for a few moments.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

I am so fragile at the moment.

I’ve got another four letters to open. Wish me luck.

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Pain All Day

On Wednesday I was in pain all day. Not physical pain, but mental pain.

It’s so hard to describe, we don’t have the vocabulary for it in Enlgish. It is something like a combination of despair, loneliness, anxiety and depression.

I spent the whole day trying to distract myself from it by playing computer games, reading and watching TV. All of which have to finish (my concentration isn’t as good as it could be either) when the pain would return just as bad as before.

Unlike physical pain, I don’t have pain-killers to get rid of it. It was a bad day.

Also unlike physical pain, I suspect there are many people out there who simply can’t imagine what it is like. Well, it’s horrible.

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