I always have the feeling that 24hour news are always scrabbling to get something together. Stringing out petty shit. I am pretty sure that thousands of people died in Pakistan this week: no mention. Three minutes out of each hour are taken by the sacking of a football manager and speculation over who will replace him.
It’s not that I can’t think. It is just the opposite. I think lots but the thoughts are too quick for me to grab hold of. Already that thought has triggered another and not always an obvious transition that can be back tracked. Busy. I wish I could meet people and they would have the decency to look me in the eyes and see the busy tone. I haven’t left the house in over a week.
I get angry. I get really fucking angry. I have watched a great deal of American movies in the last few days and I want a gun. I want to hold it on its side, say something half witty, then shoot them in the face, repeatedly. An Endemol company. I love this country but hate it much more. All my friends (not as many as I’m making out; and not any true friends) have asked me why I haven’t traveled the world as they have. I still haven’t found out how England works. It is too easy to blame class. I really have no clue what is happening in my country, or my area/region. Until I have got my head around that then I can’t try and figure out different cultures.
I am bipolar. That’s what I’ve been categorised as. Never liked anything been categorised. Always liked music that can’t be categorised. Books or music that can’t be categorised are my thing. Normal shit has no place with me. The age old question is – what is normal?
I am the last person to ask. Why does everyone have to be the same and tow the line? Fucked if I know. I think so many people buy into this shit and far too afraid to be different that they put the question somewhere in the back of their head.
What happens when they start questioning what they are doing? Usually they are convinced that they have had a breakdown. Maybe they haven’t: maybe they have seen how things truly are for the first time in their life.
He felt he was selling his soul. He thought that everything that he was doing was evil. And, as far as I am concerned it wasn’t wholly moral. Will you please excuse me for a moment while I light a cigarette and have a wee. I don’t read on the toilet but it may take some time as it is one of the few times I have to think. It will be nothing to do with what I’m telling you because I have a very short attention span. It might be interesting enough to bring up later but I doubt it.
Where were we? Did I tell you about when I was younger? I did some really silly shit.
I’ve lost my train of thought. I had something I wanted to tell you but a different memory got in the way and now I can’t remember what I was going to say. I was released from the psych ward this afternoon and I would like to blame the the diazepam and a couple of vodkas for the fragmented narrative but I know my mind has always worked in this disorganised way. I am most probably more coherent than the usual.
Where was I? Not sure now. I think I was questioning what is normal. I think it is a deeply profound question. Unfortunately I do not have the education to put this across in a way that would be acknowledged, listened to, or taken seriously. I feel that this is because I have not been educated to a high standard or been given lessons in public speaking. I have a chip on my shoulder- I carry a sack of spuds with me wherever I go. My brother blames my condition on my drug use. I have had mental illness all my adult life. I had it long before I tried any form of narcotic. It is well known that those of us with bipolar use drink and drugs to self medicate.
If you like cocaine, like I do, then you are always looking for the best. After a certain time you forget the hype that the local dealers bullshit you with and you realise you have to go up the chain to get the better gear. To get better gear you have to buy in quantity. I didn’t want to become a dealer, I just wanted better gear.
I lay here with a bullet hole through my gut and I feel no regret. I had the time of my life. I know that my time was limited but I have made something of it. If I had the chance to tell my stories then I would have plenty to tell. Others will talk of me, I am sure. I am a legend. I could have been fuck all.
Billy Brown 