y

by the astonishingly good late Polish artist Zdzislaw Beksinski.

When I first rejoined I was calling myself 'Yorickwit'; this was supposed to mean that I'm not quite the fool I was, mostly thanks to my mum being completely unconscious in intensive care for twelve days and almost dying. She had pneumonia on top of pulmonary fibrosis; couldn't breathe by herself so they had to knock her completely out and paralyse her until the pneumonia cleared up. Five days in we nearly lost her. Two months she was in hospital. Seems a bit unreal now. She's still building her muscles back up - they'd wasted away while she was out those twelve days. She's a trouper, as they say.

For the last fortnight I've been experiencing extremes of fear/anxiety/panic like I've never had in my life and wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I won't go into all the crap I've been worrying about; you name it, basically. The doc's got me on beta-blockers to calm me down.

Joy.

I'm actually quite optimistic, though. Karma and all that; suffering bringing maturation. A reason for all suffering.

+++

Conversation with my dad recently:

"Yer gey [very] red, dad."

"Red?"

"Aye."

"............."

"Frae the sun, like." [He'd been fishing].

"The sun wis oan mah back aw day."

"Wid it no be frae the reflection aff the water?"

"Well, aye, mibbe, aye..........................................................................ah hud mah hat oan."


Pretty good. Beats the conversations we had when I was growing up, which mostly went like this:

Dad: "When are you gonnae grow up?"

Me: ".........................................................................................................................?"