Girlfriend in a Coma, Punctured Bicycle and Caligula

Reviewing my most recent blood tests in preparation I can’t help questioning. Is it serious? Probably not. But like Spike Milligan quipped “I told you I was sick!” Is the whole shebang massively overly dramatic?

“I know you’re antiseptic, your deodorant smells nice
I’d like to get to know you, you’re deep frozen like the ice”

I don’t think I am obsessing simply going along with it all but it being my nature, I do look things up. It gives me something to do and stops me playing outside in the traffic.

“I’m knobbled on the cobbles
Cos I hobble when I wobble
Swim!

—–

Hello to you out there in Normal Land,

you may not comprehend my tale or understand”

I did not come by this notion of surgery all by myself. I have not been the one pushing this agenda. It has taken up a lot of time and money so far, both for me and the French health system.

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don’t belong here

Perhaps I am missing the point entirely.

We are stardust
Billion year old carbon
We are golden
Caught in the devil’s bargain
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden

It all seems so very far away, so unimportant.

Where be it Blackbird to?
I know where he be
He be up your wurzel tree
And I be after he
Now I sees he, and he sees I
Bugger’d if I don’t get him
With a girt big stick, I’ll knock him down
Blackbird, I’ll have thee

I remember aged just shy of thirteen walking along a beach in Pwllheli North Wales, that sentiment is more timely now.

People try to put us d-down (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Just because we get around (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-cold (talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (talkin’ ’bout my generation)

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

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