Monthly Archives: September 2014

Careers Advice

The careers advisor smiled and clicked her pen. I spoke.

“I want to be a child again.”

“We can’t-”

“I know. I don’t want to be responsible. I don’t want to work. I don’t want to need relationships or ambitions.”

“Are you okay?”

“No. I had a stroke last year and it left me paranoid from the neck down.”

“You mean-”

“I have these strange turns. I feel like I’m upside down. I want to stand up. I feel like my glasses shouldn’t stay on.”

“Because you’re upside down?”

“I’m going to fly away. I’m not. Clinically there’s nothing that stops me working. It doesn’t make me sad.”

“That’s good.”

“But it doesn’t fit. I don’t like the adult world. I never have.”

“I don’t think anyone does.”

“Well. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Why not?”

“Why is it as it is? I just want to pick things up and do them and for people to not want things from me.”

“If this is a mental health concern I can book an- appointment with a doctor.”

“Yes. But then. I don’t know what they can do. I can work. It just has no meaning to me.”

“Why is this?”

“Like I said. I had a stroke. It changed a lot of things.”

“What else did it change?”

“I used to be a man.”

“You are now.”

“See.”

The careers advisor seemed to oscillate towards and away from me.

“I don’t. I just – I just. I’m confused. I don’t see things as I used to and I remember nothing. You know my grandmother had a stroke at the same age. It made her who she was. But I’m not sure of anything any more.”

“Right.”

“It’s difficult because I’m not mad enough for them to help me but I’m not sane enough to be… happy in myself.”

“That must be tough.”

“It is. I’ve got it fine you know. Other people have much worse problems. I just feel very strange. And I can’t convince myself that I’m completely human.”

“I suppose no one helps you or hurts you because you don’t pose a threat to anyone.”

“Yes. No. That’s true. I can make myself toast if I want it. I have quite a good diet actually.”

“Yes, You look healthy.”

“Technically I think I am. But I don’t want this… this… I don’t this… want this to be my life.”

The two of us watched the birds for a moment. “I wish I had a full head ahead of me. In me. On me. I wish I was a full head.”

“What about your family?”

“I haven’t told them anything. I don’t drop in that often. I’ve probably got a few more months before they start to worry. I can write an email if I… redraft it enough. Let it stew.”

“I could probably find you something. If you send in your CV.”

“You’d do that?”

“You’re clearly not well.”

“No. Thanks. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Does anyone?”

“I don’t know.”

“That was a joke.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward pause. I stood up.

“I hope I don’t walk into a parked car on the way out.”

“Are you not going to stay?”

“I’m just confused. Thank you.”

“You sure you’re going to be okay?”

“No. But I have to go.”

“I can get someone to drive-”

“You’re busy. I’ve got to go and be weird somewhere else.”

“Then why did you come?”

“I don’t know. I don’t really know anything. I mean I had a stroke. I – I – I. My brain is undiagnosable. They don’t see how I am and how I’ve changed.”

“Please don’t run away-”

“-I must. Goodbye.”

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Ice Burn

I had a terrifying nightmare. A woman came into my room and opened the window. She sat on the ledge and asked me if I was happy. I started to say that normally I was but something about her made my heart pound in my ears, and not out of affection. Before I could finish my sentence I was awake and downstairs a young man’s life was wasting away. I knew I would never be able to speak to her again. If I’d have reached out to her, her icy cold skin would have burned me. The burns would have remained if I – if I had woken. Perhaps that was the reason for her melancholy.

Glad for:

Dads
Mums
Edinburgh Fringe

Stories
Corrections
A pop culture binge

Saying
“Here’s to the future,
And here’s to the past,
To the things we’ve forgotten,
And spaces so vast,
‘Cause there’s nothing like living,
Or that’s what they say,
And I never know different,
And neither do they.”

Bums,
Chums,
An occasional crisp,

Kisses,
Eye contact,
Failing to rhyme,

“And my feelings are more than the thoughts in my head,
Oh no never not say them, I sing them instead,
‘Cause there’s nothing like nothing,
And nothing to me,
“The words are illusions and meanings are free,
And you’ll join me tomorrow or is it today?
Singing ‘here is the future,
And here we will stay.'”

Now the list of good things is incredibly meta,
‘Cause listing is good and post-modern means better,
Or at least it means something in Bioshock Three.
Or perhaps the true story flew up over me.

The Bioshock games were both clever and fun,
Yes both Bioshock Three there and Bioshock one,
Both floating cities with dastardly crew,
It’s a shame that they never made Bioshock 2.

Yes,
Jokes,
And also “no”,
The word is essential to every good show,

So I’m glad that I know,
There ain’t nothin’ like “no”,
And I’m glad for blues music,
And the band Touch and Go.

Also:

Review aggregators,
Alligators,
People who know me even though I don’t know them,
Open source software,
Online distribution,
Fiscal redistribution,
Judge Dredd’s retribution,
Democratic evolution,
An easier than previously thought of solution,
To something that seemed far worse than it was.

And eyes. I wouldn’t be who I am without eyes.
And long runs.
And night time.
And all those piano lessons I never put any work into.
And living on the xbox for ten years or so.
Although I’m not glad about that.
At least.
That’s what I tell the people I think I should want to hear that.
If that makes any sense.
And even if it doesn’t.
I’m still glad.
For a lot of things.
Even some bad things.
Because they made everything the way it is.
And in the end.
Things aren’t so bad.
As they used to be.
And there’s plenty here to enjoy.
Also lipstick.
Tastes delicious.