No point pretending, every day slipping into the deep. Darker and darker it goes to sleep its not night, its day, has been for six hours now, and all the time you dread every minute that takes you closer and closer to another day.
Another day of what, nothingness trying to cope trying to pretend you can cope. Inside you are screaming, can’t you hear the screams, I can can’t you. You look at me as though all is well its how it always is, but you are not looking deep enough to see the truth. Or maybe the truth is, you are too scared to see the truth.
How many days a Prisoner now, I have lost count, four or is it five months, maybe 12 months maybe years I don’t know you just go along and pretend, as you always do cope as best you can do all you ever do to make it look normal but its not normal, can’t you hear my screams.
And now, here we are a new chapter or just an extension to an old chapter, I am losing track of it all. You cry in the hope that your tears will send you to sleep, even though its so bright outside sometime early morning sun, but always always the sounds of the Birds the Garden Birds the Sea Birds calling letting me know another day has arrived another bloody day to cope with another bloody day to pretend.
Somewhere between all the tears, the sodden tissues scattered over pillows and duvet, the dread of waking fearing all the same all the pain again, one falls asleep deep into sleep. Until suddenly for no reason no clock no alarm no radio no music on record player one wakens and there you are, it all starts again.
The same old routine all the tablets all the medications prescribed by this Doctor that Doctor for this pain that pain, all the medication that has in fact not only ruined your body but your soul.
Both feet on the ground and the pain commences, the most excruciating pain you have ever experienced, having coped with spinal pain for over thirty years this is beyond anything I have ever known. You lift your leg you put it down, you raise your leg even higher you put it down, you cry the tears roll down soaking one’s face you cry out loud, no one hears. You cannot bear the pain of trying to get back into bed, more painkillers, and the new medication this time not only the Morphine patch your body is too used to you have Morphine Liquid to take for the pain, but it takes an hour to work then lasts for an hour then the pain starts all over again.
You stand you sit, you stand you sit on and on and on this is all it is, it takes hours to get ready to dress to go down for the day to start the day some sort of day, any day. Excuse to make coffee or tea or orange juice just to sit to stop the pain. This is Life, no its a longing for it to end so deeper and deeper one sinks where there is no hope, where no one is really listening. I no longer want to cook, to eat all too much trouble not trouble its all too much pain tell the bloody truth it hurts to stand it hurts to sit it hurts to be alive.
Why hide so much, hiding has confused you work you pretend all is well why do you do that, its hard to understand. Do they really want the truth, would they hear they would walk away not wanting to hear the truth, or maybe I am wrong I no longer know.
I love to write and yet each day of late its harder and harder to find the words, to put the words together. Start one story, never finish, start another never finish and on it goes, words come putting them down is another thing all too much effort, God life is too much effort easier to climb into bed and cry to sleep and let it be, let that be the words I cannot write.
I long for the end of each day, I long for when I can finally get into bed, as painful as that is that I know my tears will start but maybe just maybe the next day I will wake pain will have ceased I will feel alive again there are no black walls no bricks to push down no walls to climb and all will be fine and I will work as I used to feeling alive, and I know that is all bollocks for nothing will change nothing at all, there is just the hope that my sleep will be that sleep to where finally I am at peace finally all is so good so free and once again I am the person I long to be.
The glorious Bill Evans, just pure magic. “Days of Wine and Music”. Bill Evans sadly died within six weeks of this recording.