The Briefest Of Rehashings.

I've been asked in the last few days in exchanges with fellow bloggers and writers the nature of my blog. One guy even had the cheek to say i should stick to politics. What can I say, it bores me. Life's way to short in trying to enlighten people who don't really care. Well, not enough of them anyway.

Briefly, I write a blog from my home. I keep myself to myself mostly while attempting to assemble a book from the writings of a friend of mine who has left for what is next. My Mum gets mentioned sometimes as I am her chief carer , though i also have three others helping out with her. None of them like me, but there you go. She suffers from a form of dementia. I help out my friend Don Johnson ( not the movie star) in his battle with the booze. If i had a wish right now to come through it would be for a maid of Swedish decent.

The Irish republic is in the gutter, with the economy having ground to a stop like a Floyd Mayweather opponent. There is mass unemployment and coupled with the weather there may not be much hope, as classrooms get bigger and the elderly are afforded their very own trolley in some run down hospital hallway as reward for their service to the nation since their birth.

But somehow people are plotting a way forward. But they have to do it for themselves. There is no help. The banks don't want to know you and the government have to protect their expense and wage accounts so there will be no money for a little start-up. Their idea of a creative person is someone who buys a jar of Dolmio to release their own creative juices.

So days are spent sleeping, eating, smoking, editing , TV and in an effort to amuse myself i write this. It passes an otherwise desperately obtuse existence where the the beauty of stars shining in a fall night sky are hidden from view by black clouds that are in no way fluffy, and better described as dense.

It is great to find out on certain days that my allowing myself to have some fun is amusing to others as well. I got a nice compliment earlier this morning from a reader and through that i got to find out about someone that may have slipped through the net of great lives that have been lived. It makes it all worth while.

I have given myself three years to leave these shores for somewhere where the sun shines for at least half the year. Somewhere along a coast line that is not among the most radioactive in the world. I want the company of thespians with one eye on the door of life and a mouth equipped to talk vast amounts of shite while slurping on fine wine and choking on cuban cigars. What's going to fund all this ?

The truth is i have not got one clue. But I'm working on it. A man needs a goal in life !