The Nutter from Newbury

People’s putdowns - of you are sometimes strangely accurate.
I was sat with my Doc, morning Mr. Hine she said how are we today? Looking at her puzzled, I said, we got that multiple personality problem sorted out didn't we? I said, thinking, is this me speak in or is it one of the others? Oh you are a card Mr. Hine she said the laughing. Would you like a cup of tea? How the hell am I going to drink it with this damn thing on? I shrugged to indicate the strait jacket. That’s okay Mr. Hine I'll get the nurse to take it off. Roger! Roger! She called. Roger looked through the crack in the door, on seeing no blood and mayhem he gingerly stepped into the room. Yes he said, could you get Mr. Hine a….. She pauses, looked at me and asked would you prefer Tea or coffee Mr Hine? Is it from a machine? The coffee is she said, OK I'll have coffee please. Don't get me wrong nurses in general make excellent tea. Like any institution the tea, the tea room and the tea lady an expert in keeping the tea hot for hours and hours and somehow it always tastes good, well institutional then, as opposed to good. Always best with loads of sugar, even if you don’t take it.

No I didn't want tea made by Roger, I didn't trust him, he looked too much like a bouncer for my liking, and anyway what would he stir it with? No, coffee from the machine was the safest option.

The interview continued, bland sameness questions, with no progress, just a sense of someone justifying their £50,000 salary by producing reams of paperwork and you'll be OK! Doesn't really matter if the patient’s cured or not, anyway there’s a shortage of patients since coaching and mentoring flourished. It pays not to increase the output above the input rate after all it would be difficult to produce the necessary paperwork without any patients wouldn’t it!

It's "HOT" thank you I said as Roger passed the plastic cup of machine coffee in front of me. He took a step back, standing at attention in the nonchalant way that only bouncers can. Looking at him, yes, ex military, probably had his own security business (a dog and a Van) charge people of fortune for arriving at their premises ten minutes after the burglar has left. But why was Roger a psychiatric nurse? It didn't make sense, unless…., oh no!

I stared at the cup of coffee before me, I was giving a big hint that even Roger should have got. I hate cold coffee and there it sat getting cold not a thing I can do about it with this straight jacket on. I looked at Roger, he knew, he was playing a game, stood there pretending that he didn’t know. The least he could do was get me a straw. He just wanted me to ask. Well I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. I took a swing at it with my elbow knocking it flying. Oh dear said Doc completely unphased.

Another violent outburst, right I'm ending this session please take him back to his padded cell Roger.

Now Roger had an unmistakable grin on his face this was what he was waiting for! He pushed me into the cell, now I realized why he was a psychiatric nurse; "Brace Yourself Roger" probed me menacingly.

Stornoway Black Pudding

I was staying at the Torr House Hotel in Elgin recently. The landlord served up a fantastic traditional British breakfast, with black pudding. I asked him where he got the black pudding from and he said it came from Stornoway. It was this black pudding which I can highly recommend. http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-highlands-islands-22445935 Shared from Google Keep

Cassi

I am there. I am an observer. I observe everyday. I see everyday. I cry everyday. I cry everyday. I cry like a man, an invisible cry, a cry inside, a cry buried beneath normality. A cry that resonates the split in my heart. The secret shameful cry of a man. I go there, I go to the cubicle, I watch, I watch her get the bucket, a bucket stolen from a cupboard. I Watch her struggle as women do with DIY tasks. She's a bit angry as she can't get the ligature fitted securely to the door. She starts to lose her temper, but then sits on the toilet and cries. She was a marvellous girl. She could do anything she put her mind to. Comical really, here she was using that skill. Finally she got the ligature attached. She positioned the bucket and stood on it, struggling to get the ligature around her neck. She looks uncomfortable? I wonder if she's just practising? I wonder if she will have the guts to do it? I already know. She places one foot over the side of the bucket, gradually allowing the weight to pull the ligature around her neck. The pain is written on her face. A decision.... her foot swings and pushes the bucket away. Her face goes bright red, her eyes bulge, her hands come up.. up to the literature clawing at the ligature.. has she changed her mind? Will someone come and help? Can I help? But I'm not really there I can't help. My time to help has past, I missed my chance, my life missed the chance for me, the chance to give love unconditionally, the chance to save missed...

Coffee Indecision

Unusual early treat. The coffee shop empty no one except me and the barrista. Cappuccino produced after considerable fuss. Probably just setting up I thought as I waited patiently for a few seconds and then began fretting because that was no newspaper out yet. In my hunt for a newspaper I identified two seating locations, a seat offering a business posture, and a high back seat offering a snoozing posture. Got my coffee. In a dilemma again, empty coffee shop two seating locations identified and a choice to make? I took the lazy have a snooze option, leaned back pushed all wandering thoughts away and just listened. You would think that an empty coffee shop would be silent, however with the air conditioning, the escalator (this was upstairs mezzanine shop) I suppose a bit of noise from the attached Supermarket's refrigeration units. The noise was remarkably loud but also very comforting I've been told like the drumming an unborn infant experiences in its mother's womb. I felt safe having a doze and was then woken from my slumber as the barista began the tapping needed to create a new coffee for the next customer that walked in. This customer took my second choice seat! So I wasn't wrong in my choice, a good confirmation of my skill. and then promptly started writing this! The coffee cooler than usual but not unpleasant and I reminded myself that I must stop drinking my coffee at just under boiling temperature after reading about the cancer risk highlighted by the Arab tribes that drink boiling hot coffee getting mouth cancer as a result. The coffee, different than normal, slightly mellow I don't know whether that's it was the first one of the machine or they've change the blend. (Shared from Google Keep)

Couple in Nam-Po

Couple in Nam-Po....

I thought she was feeding him.

I was sat in nam-po eating a lamb dish with fried rice, mum had the same but with boiled rice. I observed a couple across from me and to improve my writing skills, I started writing about them. I noted that the woman as she stepped across the room to another bench -  it was occupied but had a vacant mains Power Point where she plugged her phone charger in. Then she went back to her seat next to the man I saw her feeding. His fork discarded, he was eating the Asian Way with his hands well, "hand" --- his right "hand" not inclined to use his left hand as dictated by his religion? Custom? The pendant lamps had a shade made from wire, the shape, a truncated cone of 10 degrees.  Widest at the bottom 12 inches across with a wire constructed bulge in the middle housing the mercury vapour twisted strip light made to resemble a traditional bulb.  She seemed very attentive of him what with the feeding - and face stroking now? So the feeding was like an intimate ritual?  He came back walking with a lazy gate rocking from one foot to the other swinging his head left and right in an exaggerated fashion. He spoke with a middle class accent. She had a handbag like Kermit the Frog but it had seals on it?  Was she a mother? Was he her husband, lover brother? They have gone, the empty wall/counter/bench where they sat, two stools high,  Matching the style of the lamps the whole restaurant empty nearly; and evident by the change in volume. You would class it as quiet but only in comparison to the previous volume it was in no way quiet!

Angry Inside

Angry inside angry angry inside angry where inside? everywhere inside, nowhere inside. Angry sneaking out. Push angry back in, squash it back in, hide it back in. Angry. Angry back in, safe now... until angry gets out again. Sooth angry Sooth my anger there there there go to sleep angry. Sleep anger, till next time. There will be a next time. Angry there Angry. Angry eats food. Food helps angry sleep, food is not helping angry. Angry not like being fat. Food puts angry to sleep. Push angry back in. There there there angry sleep tight angry....

From existence to what?

I lean back in my chair and look at the light fitting. The light usually on, burns my retina slightly, with it's a ghost image of the bulbs. As I relax I take note, I hear the birds chirping the car passing then I become aware of the PC fan haven't heard it before but it's loud! I didn't hear it until I drew my attention to it. Then I feel my relaxation, I note my breathing, my chest rising and falling, relaxing. Thinking one day it will all end, maybe today, tomorrow, next week, NOW! 5 years time, 20 years time. That day will come. Will death steal up on me, or maybe I won't see it coming! Will there be pain? Will I accept it? should I ask somebody whose near it what they think? should I ask somebody who is terminal what they think? Bloody awkward conversation I reckon! I think its safest to just relax and contemplate the future, when that line is crossed, from existence to what?