The Girl at the Punchbowl

So there I was on the street just keepin it real and listening to some hardcore gangsta on my walkman (psyche: ipod mutherfucker). It wasn't working, the act not the ipod. I was trying not to give a fuck because in some ways it feels like everything was a bit easier when I was smoking crack and not giving a fuck about anything but then I was thinking about looking after Battle Cat and My Protege and I realised who the girl from work talking about her birthday was and much as I like helping people out I don't know if I ready for it again if she needs help with something.

I remember being at the Cliffs of Moher a few years ago and right at the cliff edge is a sign (a calming green one) saying: There are other options. And the number for The Samaritans below it.

I remember thinking was that really going to stop someone who wanted to kill themselves. I hope so. I think that's quite a hard topic to approach. I hope she's changed her mind about killing herself. I remember knowing people when I was a teenager who talked about killing themselves. They're all still here. I'm not saying they were just going through a phase what I'm saying is that things changed for them and they must have thought there were things worth sticking around for, even if other things were still going shit for them.

The song on my ipod turned to Tupac Shakur and I thought, there's a man who didn't want to die and he was gunned down. Then I remember thinking that maybe Tupac wasn't dead.

We're Ruined! Ruined!

I've been lying low all week. I've been pretty depressed. I never really got depressed as a teenager much. I don't know why but it seems that I've stockpiled most of it for my twenties. Silly bastard body.

I have my reasons though, a wee nip of giggly crack and the resulting boredom and self esteem kicking that comes from realising you're not that far away from where you thought you were, or to put it in a deep way. I thought I had covered much distance but really I'd been walking in a big giant circle.

You see I need to get out of this vicious cycle (that should have been a clue!) that I'm in. I lie around on the dole feeling cool while my life crumbles around me, then I get a job I hate, then get into a bit of mess and get fired. I need to find something I like only that's not going to happen because any job that's halfway cool is snapped up by someone who's been out after it since they left school and all I get are shite jobs fucking people up (and not a bicep flexed).

Now the Tories are in (that means you Nick Clegg) the civil service in Northern Ireland is going to go to shit and that means more competition on the job market. Fuck it fuck it fuck it!

Hot Baby Roy said I should try temping just to get a view of what jobs are out there but while he says that he sits on the sofa watching suspect kids TV shows and I think he hasn't given up crack at all. I got a bit desperate last week and when he was out I went through his stuff hoping he'd some crack stashed away but he hadn't, nasty mutherfucker. Anyway I'm glad there was none because now I'm keeping shot of that stuff.