Category Archives: Language

The Weariness, The Fever And The Fret

The upside of powerful painkillers is pretty obvious – they’re quite well suited to killing pain powerfully for a while which can be a blessing when every day has pain and pain and pain. The downside of powerful painkillers can … Continue reading

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A Hunger Artist

Carry on coughing. All the way the the coffin. Alternate that with sleep which ends whenever sweating becomes too uncomfortable or the dreams of Doctor Who stuff (which I love) are interrupted by anxiety shit about losing my car or … Continue reading

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Scooby Dooby Doo, To Be Is To Do

Heavy-lidded apathy rules Saturday. It might not be apathy; I can’t be bothered to analyse myself deeply enough to know for sure. It might not even be Saturday: words are just words, they’re not genuine representations of anything. You know, … Continue reading

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If You’re Not Irish, That Isn’t Your Fault

I shall be returning to Dublin one day. A couple of days is simply not long enough to fully soak up the atmosphere or to see even the tiniest portion of what the city has to offer. That said, I … Continue reading

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Couldn’t Look You In The Eye

“You’re weird.” I’ve been told this, in various ways, all my life and my response has perhaps changed more than I might have imagined it would when I was young. At first I hated being non-normative: I went to a … Continue reading

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Knickers

Having to do laundry is god’s way of reminding us that we don’t like most of our undergarments. I like most of my socks, though. Aside from heating up leftovers for lunch, washing clothing and putting it on the line … Continue reading

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Damn, Damn, Damn, Damocles

Therapy. Double-edged sword. Not that it’s anything like a sword really. Unless it is cutting the patient’s head off with a sword therapy. Which isn’t too popular these days. But, you know, metaphor. I was unable to attend last week’s … Continue reading

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