Hey, before I get started, I would really appreciate it if you decide to read my blog or grab a copy of my book and take a few moments to leave a comment. It's so simple to do, and I can assure you this will not lead to loads of spammy messages at your end. All you have to do is go to the bottom of the blog post and tap where it says "No Comments," or if someone has left a comment, you will see the number of comments and you can add to these. It's getting lonely in here talking to myself...
Book-wise wise if you do decide to pick up a copy, please, please do leave a review. Of course, it must be honest if you think I've made a shit job of self-publishing some complete nonsense, I would rather know. That said, I am feeling a bit fragile at the moment, so don't be too ruthless. I am, after all, a complete amateur
Well, I am back off work, ill once again. Don't worry, I am not going to go on and on about it. To be honest, I have had just about my fill of my life revolving around health issues.
Anyone who knows me will know I am open when it comes to mental health. Over the years, just like a lot of people, I have experienced a few, shall we say, dark periods; however, I have been able to use my past experiences and thought I had a pretty good handle on coping strategies. It now appears my strategies are not working quite as well as I had hoped, so I have decided to reach out for some help via work.
It's this ulcerative colitis diagnosis and the symptoms that come along with it that have brought me to a complete full stop. My mind is now in panic mode, and no matter what I try to do to convince myself, to just live in the moment, it's off conjuring up various scenarios that are set way off into the future.
Then there is that other really dark side which I have encountered before, but not in some time, it pretends to be my friend and whispers in my mind. It is devious with its words, with things like "You know when you fall asleep, well you don't have any pain, or stress, why not go one step further and seek eternal slumber". "Fuck that and Fuck You", and then.....it's gone, but just for a little while.
And so whilst I have been off bored, mostly lying on my bed and waiting for the gurgle of my tummy to start, then having to rush to the toilet, on elbow crutches I may add, to get on the toilet and then prepare for a sudden explosion of what looks like the same colour as chip shop curry, however certainly doesn't smell the same. It's ghastly. I rushed to the bog just the other day and a jet of: well, I wouldn't call it shit, hit the bowl and then splashed all around the rim, with a sample of the foul, horrible stuff launching from the toilet and landing on my left wrist. I mean WTF... "Ewww!". So far I have been fortunate and not had any accidents and shit the bed.
Anyhoo, after speaking with all manner of people over the last month, including my consultant, the Inflammatory bowel disease nurse and my GP, I now find myself back on steroids, Prednisolone. Following a review with my consultant, it has been agreed I should start on an antibody treatment called Vedolizumab, well, at least I think that's what the drug is called.
At the moment, I am experiencing a whole range of different emotions where this new drug is concerned. You see, I can recall having a bad experience with another antibody drug named Rituximab when I was going through my chemotherapy treatment. But there I go again, you see, pre-empting the worst. Hopefully, this new drug will get me back on track, back in the saddle of my bikes, rather than on the seat of the nearest bog.
I just had one of those negative-to-positive thoughts, which made me chuckle. Thank God I wasn't reading one of my favourite books when all that shit came flying out. I would have been devastated ruining a good hardback edition.
So, to the title of this post, "Whilst perusing my phone!"
I generally write down all sorts of stuff in my notes app on my phone. It can just be when stuff comes to me, so there are all sorts of random things. I readily admit I am not great at poetry; however, I do like to get things out of my head, much of which is based on my experiences. So I thought I would share a few bits and bobs on my blog, I mean, I haven't much else to write about at the moment as I have done Jack shit.
I wrote this selection of words based on my having the idea of shooting a video and using 3-second clips to document one of my rides. Unfortunately, I haven't managed to get out as yet due to not feeling well.
Three Second Clips
Three-second clips, memories captured through a lens. Pictures suspended in time. Those glimpses are a reminder of what is lost in the blink of an eye.
Images that play on an internal screen within our minds. Frame by frame, we attempt to make sense of a story that unfolds, what is it we have seen?
The now has already become the past as we enter the future. Valuable moments are stolen as you read the next word, watch the next clip and think your next thought.
Beauty is missed each day due to imposed life's time constraints. Unnoticed morning dew like a tiny crystal ball sitting upon a blade of grass, the song of a bird, the blue sky above, lit by our sun.
An unexplored area, eyes scanning, up close and personal and to the horizon. A new adventure, an excited inhalation of breath, as you're feeling free. This is how each day really should be.
Beautiful trees standing tall, speaking to one another in a language not understood by man. No war mongering or political views, no religion or jealousy, no possessions to lose.
Stood all alone, with eyes gently closed, in self-imposed isolation, a kind of out-of-body contemplation. Thoughts in place, but they aren't taxing, taking a gentle breath, it's so relaxing.
So much beauty can be taken from just three seconds in time. Why not stop and take a moment? Stop rushing to get to the end, as the end is here before you know.
Quiet Observer - Looking Within Ourselves.
Standing on a beach, a quiet observer watching the sun as it's rising.
Searching for perfection within each wave, as it washes up onto the shore.
Looking out at the ocean, where the rays of light are dancing.
Bright refracted colours, shimmering, my mind becomes so distracted.
Taking a seat upon the beach, a handful of sand is taken. Feeling its texture within a tight fist, then watching it fall in tiny grains. It's quicker than an hourglass from my hand, but the moment feels eternal.
In the moment, relaxed and at peace. Deep thoughts come from those lessons learnt. An understanding that it's inner conflict that makes us weak.
True strength comes from the mindset we keep.
Time to accept those things that cannot be changed.
Search for joy and happiness in what you can do.
Stop being critical of the things in the past.
The race is not as long as you think, don't change, and you will end up last.
Facing challenges with an open mind,
it's ok to take chances, it's ok to fail,
always remember tomorrow is another day.
You can maybe try something in another way.
Seeing beauty, others fail to see, as they live in a fake news conspiracy reality.
Sharing kindnesses, sharing strength.
Helping the fallen if they should fall,
it doesn't matter who they are; we all have our hidden scars.
Not looking for perfection, your best will do, don't label people, or they will label you.
Follow your dreams, build on your strengths.
Try to create positive Karma in all that you do.
Now, this next bit I wrote just after getting work, Neville. I am not sure if you would class it as a poem, more like observations.
Border Terrorist
"Hello", "hello" projected from your eyes. No need for words, your thoughts you cannot disguise.
Lighting up our lives with so much unconditional love, you really have brought new life to this home.
Running around like some mental thing, spinning in circles with your favourite toy ratty rat held by his tail, (Obviously changed the name of the rat to "Isak)
You're a real joker with an infectious smile. Jumping around in a rough, scruffy ginger coat, maybe you're Ed Sheeran in disguise.
With bushy eyebrows and an old man's beard, you tilt your head to offer a quizzical look, really, you're saying "I don't give a fuck".
You're off to find Mister Stick and look for any trouble you can get up to with it. Or maybe you'll decide to dig a hole, investigate pots and kill a few plants.
Each time I go to make a cup of tea, I have to look all around. Because you're like an assassin and move in close without making a sound.
Even though you're pretty small, you're bark can be heard echoing along the hall, it makes the doorbell start to ring, but not with its normal ding-a-ling.
You use the couch like a trampoline, jumping and bouncing like a dog possessed, or if someone sits down, you jump on the top to stick a friendly tongue in their ear. (Or if a fucking chin or nose is available...My God, your tongue is abnormally long for a wee dog.
That same couch is a place to lie when the day has been long and you want to rest. Any pillow will do to lay down your head, it's funny how you don't like your own bed.
When it's time for a walk, suspicious minds play in my head, as you set off, then pause, stop and look. You really are a paranoid pup "Fuck me, we're being followed" Please shut up.
You're a Border terrorist with a cunning and devious plan. Now a much-loved member of our clan.
This was something I wrote a bit back about, a relatively short ride and encountering some dog shit.
Dog Shit
An endless supply of drugs for an unknown disease. A string of antibiotics for a chesty wheeze.
A trip to the barbers to get my head sharpened in the same old style.
A ride out on my bike to clear my mind.
Venturing around the same old loops,
searching for something new to find.
A dripping, snotty nose I wipe upon my sleeve.
There goes that sodding cough again,
that sounds more like a bark.
I then notice this smell that's been hanging around,
it's been there for at least the last half mile.
I stop and check for dog shit to see if it's on my tyre.
I can't see any brown fudge, but I curse nonetheless.
Why do people just leave dog crap lying around?
Even hanging there dog shit in branches of trees.
I jump back aboard my steed and continue upon my ride.
Until I come to a large pond.
There I take a few quick photographical snaps.
I love to be out in nature, to just relax and empty my mind.
My revelry is broken at a sound.
Honking geese suddenly appear.
And go onto land with a splash nearby.
Time to start off once again,
I'm so pleased my ankle is holding up.
It's now time for a climb up the farmers' trail.
Which will take me to Wagtail Lane, then the windmills and home.
I can still smell that dog shit lingering on.
I'll wash my bike, shower and change.
Ahh no more dog shite,
it's been washed away.
This little paragraph, I guess, is the start of something. It's taken from when I was pissed off, I guess.
You've come again to test my will
You've come along to test my strength.
You've come along to play games with my mental health.
Another few thoughts
An off hand conversation with people who pretend they really care.
A random pat on the back with a fake there, there.
Flicking through the wishful pages of all those broken dreams.
Searching through so many memories of places I have never been.
Feelings of being so lost, and the fear of not being found.
Inner thoughts that drive me mad, just goping around and around.
This poem, I think, is in its original form: I can't recall if I changed it for my book "Lost2bFound".
Dreams of getting away
The grass lies withered and dead beneath my feet as it turning to dust.
I live in the pure hope that one day I'll escape.
I allow my eyes to close shut and I drift off to sleep,
sweet surrender, it's now felt as reality fades away.
A seed planted so deep whilst I'm in my sleep,
tended to with so much love to bloom into life.
Wandering around in my mind, filing cabinets that store dreams
only opened by me, I have a secret key.
A favourite dream is found stored in place.
Safe and sound in this place, my mind is free, it's where I am so happy.
I find myself beside a loch shore, it's so calming, tranquillity found there, it's good for my soul.
Washed up on the shore pebbles, each one a dream, so many lay there, which one to choose?
Pebbles polished by time, carried by ebb and flow, picked up and now treasured as a gratitude stone.
A tartan land is where I really long to be, the beautiful Monroe's the lochs and all the trees.
I picture a wee house, a place I can call home, no stresses or worries, there I rest my weary soul.
Now I'm inside my house, lying there on the couch, my hand resting on the floor. The house whispers now you're home.
A log fire is burning bright, giving off a warm glow, the flames casting shadows which dance on the walls.
Now I don't drink whiskey, but here sits a wee dram. It came from a local distillery right here in town
A needle in a groove, a record spinning in place, it's an old forty-five knocking out a wee tune.
My own piece of heaven, I carry it so deep within, will this dream come to pass? Only time will tell.
Tomorrow I'll return and play out this same scene in the hope that one day all my dreams will come true. I allow my eyes to close shut and I drift off to sleep, sweet surrender, it's now felt as reality, it fades.
Well, that's it for now. Mainly just wrote a bit because I am bored. Apologies, no pics, well I mean I haven't been anywhere or done owt. In ending got to at least try and plug my book. If you follow my blog, or if you are just new to it and kind of like my style or writing and narration, by that I mean lots of swearing and dark humour, well, why not go and grab a copy? The book is much the same.
It's available from Amazon or most good bookstores; there is a link on my blog on the front page.
Cheers, take care
Glenn
