Peace time drove him mad, he didnÕt know what to do with all that excess energy drooling out of him, heÕd roll thus and like that clinging to his ball of bed sheets. Immediately trying to get to his feet and bury himself into the ground within the same thought, neither made sense enough to try with any conviction and time dwindled itself into knotted heaps of useless twine. All myths and truths did battle amongst the trenches of his memory and yells and cries became infiltrated with stories and pictures, which, although as real as his backbone, somehow mystified and strange, eerily shifting as the sand under winds. He imagines all the world, ear to his door interpreting every sniffle and creaking movement, predicting, placing bets upon what his fever will cause him to do next, ever one step ahead of the bastards he out foxes them all and does no more to continue this existence of twilight, of no -mans-land, of neither off nor on - on standby, a whisper with no words attached. His eyes wee too heavy for reading, mind too heavy for music, television had become like sharing a room with an insulting machine; insulting intelligence and tolerance for crapness, to swallow hurt, to think thundered, to just lie and do nothing was a constant reminder of his situation.
In all he was beginning to wish that maybe he hadnÕt decided to stop drinking.
The financial realities were unavoidable, to continue the drinking habit would mean homelessness, to keep enough money to pay the rent meant mental collapse, and he couldnÕt help wondering if this was due to coincidence that the fever found him on the day of his conversion to sobriety. Has he been forcibly removed a staple part of his diet,known since antiquity as Ôliquid breadÕ, tamer of wild mindsets, yoga class and psychiatrist in one form, substitute wife and confederate. What have these villains taken from me! He thought back to the 1756-63 Seven Years War, he had heard of an experiment conducted by John Clephane, physician to the English fleet, in volving three ships; the Grampus, the Deadalus and the Tortoise; on a voyage from England to America; only the Grampus was supplied with the sailors allowance of eight pints of beer per day and after a particularly weather-beaten long journey arrived with 13 sailors needing hospitalisation. The other two ships, with but the common allowance of spirits arrived at the end of the same clinical trial with 112 and 62 men requiring treatment. It seemed he was being denied a valuable product vital for existence in his tragic world but nobody was listening no matter how furiously he wringed his fists.
Never a days illness whilst on the sauce.
Another mobile phone call announced itself through the speakers, the recognisable intrusive, ticking before the dreaded box shrieks at you, but relief, it was radio-waves passing through to someone else's life, threw your skull to their ear, a radioactive minefield of phonecalls and text messages zooming past, mostly chatting nonsense, mostly expensive blather, like the success of bottled water in a land of drinkable tap water and ludicrous price designer handbags, these people would buy anything that the billboards announced was new and cost money to own.
Well each to their own addiction.
And in years to come we shall join hands and look back and sing songs about that wonderful year 2007.