It's funny [funny: odd & funny: haha!] how stuff comes back and smacks one up-side the head!
I was gobbing-off to a Face-Book post about Women's Day, adding a smart-arse comment about "International Women's Week, nobody here!" from The Buzzcocks 'Orgasm Addict'... good on me...
...and that lead to The Jam's 'Eton Rifles' and Joy Divisions 'Transmission' and a whole heap of memories about not being the in-crowd playing sport, and remembering the frenetic days of my youth and ... spewed up the undigested pizza I'd "treated myself to..."

Shakey... staring into a distant future and a favourite but bibulous and disassociate past... I look at tomorrow and wonder, and sweat...

I don't sleep well... I wake up at... an hour after I turn the lights-off, then after another hour or so... half-past 4 is the next, then half-five...
Six. If I'm not werking... I force myself back to slumber... until I can't stand 0615!
I wish I could urge myself to go for a strenuous walk or ride, but I don't! Instead, I piss, splash some boiling water onto instant coffee and think hollowly about the day ahead as I prevaricate and avoid my tasks... Roll cigarettes or start drinking...
Hello today!

Oh bugger! (Fasting for a blood-test... Oh well! Do it tomorrow...)

Then the day continues... I don't like 'Outside'... I avoid it like the Plague... The internet, TV, catch up on games... I'm joining more daily...
Into rubber, a good excuse not to go out! Got to take some pics for my wannabe alter-ego account on FetLife... It ain't gunna happen...
Swill some more booze, feel like ten shades of krap... have a gut-wrenching vomit... go for a "little lay down"... toss, turn, thrash about....
Face the afternoon, wracked with guilt that I haven't werked... check the Internet to see if my dreams have been answered... Nope.
...It goes on... and on and on.

I seems hopeless, but it isn't! When I work, I work hard and straight and clean.

When I werk, I wish I had some time to myself....