Sweet dreams all met with derision. This train it was armed for collision. It’s a shame, it’s a shame, it’s a shame.
October 31, 2010 § Leave a comment
“I’m not going to die in this hospital, you’d better take me back outside, they don’t let me smoke and I can’t get drunk!”
I don’t want to die in the hospital – Conor Oberst and the MVB.
It’s been four days since I crawled out of the burning wreck of our dream that was our Mini Cooper.Me and Mossy had spent the whole time drifting in and out of sleep walking around like gormless zombies, so this blog post may be a little draw out and strange, maybe misspelt, maybe grammatically poorly structured. Maxi spent the last four days in intensive care until his condition was deemed stable enough for him to shifted to a less serious ward. It isn’t a sense of happiness that greets news such as a friend surviving an incident such as this. Just an overwhelming sense of relief that drains your energy and reminds you how much sleep you have lost worrying about said friend. None felt this feeling more than dear Mossy, he would never have forgiven himself had Maxi died, and luckily he wouldn’t have to.
We aren’t happy with our position; we are stuck in a rut. We are back were we where. We are messy and probably heading home due to lack of transport, what have we learned for our little escape? We have learned that we are not bullet proof if anything that overwhelming feeling of being somebody that comes with being young was starting to fade fast. I know that during the recent periods of my life I have tried to cover all my emotions with a sense of bolshie arrogance, often people would dislike me on meeting me because it would perhaps appear that I was taking the piss out of them when that really wasn’t the case, that’s just how we say hello. Maybe what I’m trying to say is don’t judge a book by it’s cover, don’t even judge it by the first few pages, judge the book on the difference between it being in your life and if it was not. Whether the book be a mediocre Austin style novel about high societies short comings or maybe the books is an insane stream of consciousness from a teenager who is scared because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen next, because he’s clutching at straws hoping that he will get his big break that claims he doesn’t need.
I was hoping that our insane youth would stretch a duration so I could write more about it, like most people hope it will last there whole lives. But just when you start to have the most fun you do something stupid like fucking it up. Maxi’s legs are still messed up and he is on crutches whenever he leaves his bed. We can’t ever escape these bodies and we’re tied to those thoughts in our heads, but the fact of the matter is all you can do is distract yourself, its going to catch up once you get just a little too old. So take a hard look in the mirror your shadows long the day is done and it just wasn’t meant to be.