I move around a little, trying to become comfortable.

The ropes bite in. Time passes, Hands become numb. The clock ticks on. I lose track of time,

it goes so slowly, how much longer will she make me wait ?

More time passes. Eventually she comes back. Soon I will have freedom, but not before we have played some more.

Oh, the agony. Oh, the ecstasy. I truly love it.

I can’t wait for my freedom, then to do it all again.

"He’s fallen in the water!"

   Ying tong tiddle high poe and other shades of Goonism drifting in and out of the corners of my mind reminiscing about those

hazy radio days crazy voices reverberating around the room antics of Milligan and co. amazing, surprising,

entertaining, delighting, always echoing

Voices again. Been there, done that...

I can still vividly remember the last time that I was "hearing voices"    (to use a worn out metaphor). 

It was less that a week ago. I had been there a thousand times before. 

Yes, I am on medication. Yes, I do take it regularly. 

But this was only a short lived episode. 

It was a Saturday, and I hadn’t gotten dressed all day, but instead I had been napping off and on all day. 

I had also done my weeks washing and had it drying on a clothes horse in the lounge room    (as is normal, being winter). 

It was early evening and I wanted to go to sleep. 

Slumber was a blissful escape, or perhaps only sometimes. 

Anyway, I couldn’t get any sleep, and my mind was racing. 

 Prev. P 9/21 next