Saturday 1st August



Last night was good. The Band, The Bar, the tattooed arms with
two-fisted pint-pots, an invisible corner for me & the note book.
The streets were their usual electric selves, happy faces, buzzing,
liquid colours, but something…I felt something slip in under the
door. This morning, dry throat, but nothing bad, easy to sort
with throat-coat. The weather in Essex is beautiful, bright, an
uplifting light that chills everything out, lays-back all the
colours until they’re misty. Showered, listening to the radio,
& then it hit me. All the chemicals have lined up wrong.
I’m going down without a reason. Nothing to hang it on, no face
or name, or circumstance. Nothing overloading me, no pressure,
no troubles & I can’t put it into words – it’s not on the map.
I’m going down, not even drowning, it’s like the plug’s been
pulled out of my reservoir & I’m draining away. The chemical
tumblers have all lined up & I get why people throw the towel in
when everything from the outside is looking great. If I didn’t
have a program to make me move my feet I’d lie down in a field now
& just let it end. But…I’ve trained these muscles to kick in
whenever this happens, when the isolation gene takes over & makes
me withdraw. There’s a phone in my hand & I didn’t put it there,
the fingers that know how to play guitar have phoned a number &
there’s a voice,

“How’re you doing?”

My thoughts are broken, take me to places I don’t want to go.
I don’t expect them to mend or can ever trust them again.
In & of myself I haven’t a clue, but…I’ve trained these feet
to take me out into clean air, get me into the car &
drive to be amongst people who get it & laugh about it – oh
the healing power of laughter!

“I’m coming over now, get the kettle on” says the voice on the phone.

The chemicals are beginning to disperse, mingling with the good stuff,
watering down, thinning out. I feel something like ‘light’ here inside
again. Not going to give it a name I don’t want to anchor it, spoil it,
stop it growing. I need to be amongst people who have the other pieces
of the puzzle & not all of them feel like this. Some of them are
regular, get-on-with-it people, some of them are family.

Really, really, really looking forward to seeing my buddy again.
The joy of still being on stage together blows me away.


7 thoughts on “Saturday 1st August

    • I used to think it was difficult to find those people with the other pieces of the puzzle, but what I’ve learned through working with divination is that your connection to these people lies in your destiny, and ultimately there’s no way you could miss them. There’s nothing you have to do (other than be your natural self) to make it happen, there’s nothing you could do to mess it up, and it cannot be prevented by any constellation of accidents. The Egyptian term for magic is “Heka” and it means “Wholeness”, and YOUR pieces of the puzzle are just as integral for them.

  1. Go on Karl, good you’ve reconnected. Sometimes the fear gets on all of us. Recovery rocks and my lufe has never been so good. People like ypu are inspirational, like it or not you are. I’m at Lulworth awaiting you and Rick it’s going to be epic. Got my dancing feet on.

  2. Sure sign things are going well…the black dogs get bored, needy, attention seeking, they wanna play their dark games with you, try and con you into thinking they own you again, not that you are their master, and they just the sentinels alerting you to mischief drifting in on an ill wind.

  3. ” I need to be amongst people who have the other pieces
    of the puzzle & not all of them feel like this.”
    Fucking poetry. I’m nicking that for my next chair.

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