Read In Decline Page 2

at your bones, asking for direction

  Voices you listened to, gave advice,

  forced you to face difficult choices.

  Four…three…two…it was all but finished.

  Diminished responsibility?

  A lack of hands-on experience?

  You feel it was inevitable.

  The final digit; one. No appeal.

  Zero; times up. All things; happy, sad,

  good or bad, must come at last, to rest.

  Your once, twenty-twenty clairvoyance,

  and all those blessings you counted,

  amounted to mockery; bluffing,

  and you got your just deserts…nothing.

  Now look at you… You’re at it again… There you go again, with that look on your face… You know the one… The one that says you’re on a mission…That intense expression of pure… Insanity, is it..?

  Whatever…

  You’ve got that glint in your eye… That sparkle…You know the one…The one that announces you’re ready…And waiting…

  There’s nothing anyone can do to stop you…

  Is there…?

  You’re on your way…

  Into your mind…

  You’re going…

  Into your head…

  To see if it’s true what they said…

  About no bread…

  And half a loaf…

  Both not the full shilling…

  But the thing that’s nearly…

  Killing you…

  The thing you’re really dying to know…

  Trying to be, oh so…

  Sure of…

  And not just so, by the law of…

  Averages…

  Is this…

  What exactly is the score…?

  Now, you’re not the sharpest tool…

  But you’re nobody’s fool…

  Or are you…?

  Dare you try to be a little less…

  Serious…?

  Clearly this is more the case…

  No empty space between your ears…

  May not be all that it appears…

  A full loaf, only half-baked…

  Make no mistake…

  Believe you me…

  Is gonna be…

  Most detri…

  Mental…!

  So you see…

  It’s not true what they said…

  Now you’re going

  Out of your head…

  Out of your mind…!

  But you’re getting used to it by now… Staring into space…

  It’s been a long time… Such a long, long time…

  You’ve been thinking about things… Things that might be able to present some sort of challenge… Not to your intellect… To your endurance… Your stamina… Your ability to withstand… Boredom… Discomfort… But, above all… Pain…! You want to see if anything can take you over… Over that threshold…

  And what’s so unusual about that…?

  Surely the symptoms you’re attempting to overcome, are the classic symptoms that every Marathon runner, for instance, experiences, and is able to identify with…

  But no… You want more… You want to take matters to a much higher level…

  Don’t you…?

  You want to become involved with something altogether, far more… Extreme…!

  Before the beginning – a mind

  Exists in the ferment formed

  By the dust of the first Big Bang

  Creativity is created

  And concepts inhabit the mind

  Original concepts all

  This mind, alone in the void

  At some point before Space and Time

  Devoid of fear of theft of thought

  Inexperienced in matters of matter

  Prone to the occasional mistake

  In the beginning, a need

  A need for survival

  For continuity

  Ambition, achievement

  …Things of the future

  Life is in the early stages

  Of evolving intelligence

  Revolving around the light

  The light the mind has seen

  Mind over matter; actions occur

  As fast as the speed of thought

  No need to plan ahead

  In subconscious reality

  No process, no control

  Only cause and effect

  Without consequence

  Or accountability

  Until several Big Bangs later…

  A story for another Time…

  You want to be involved with something much more physically, as well as mentally, demanding… A sport in which you run the constant risk of injury…?

  Football…?

  Rugby…?

  A contact sport…?

  Boxing…?

  Martial arts…?

  A sport in which you run the constant risk of serious injury…?

  Ski-jumping…?

  Mountaineering…?

  More extreme still…? But one that requires no special skills, or training… And can be practiced without ever having to leave home… Because you like staying in…Don’t you…? You’ve got used to it… Haven’t you…?

  It’s not exactly going to be a sport then… Is it…? More of a lifestyle choice…

  So what then…?

  Alcoholism…?

  Smoking…?

  Class-A drugs…?

  It’s none of the above… Is it…? Because… It’s something you have to take seriously…dedicate yourself to… in order to become successful at it…

  You have to start from the beginning… Build up your resistances… your tolerances… your immunities… to extreme… pain…!

  Sad

  Pattern

  Emerging

  What used to be

  A happy household

  Becomes a battleground

  Where a war of words is waged

  Children caught up in the crossfire

  Angry outbursts replaced by violence

  And a ‘Conflict Culture’ is established

  Time

  Adjusts

  Attitudes

  ‘A’ grade students

  Week-end; warriors

  Grievances germinate

  Gang chants; ‘Come and have a go

  If you think you’re hard enough’; but

  Bedtime foils these part-time pugilists

  Homework to hand in at school on Monday

  Three

  O’clock

  Saturday

  Time to kick off

  Suited and booted

  Tee-shirts, jeans, Doc Martens

  They’re not there for the football

  If you’re wearing the wrong colours

  You’re the subject of their battle-cry

  ‘You’re gonna get your f***ing heads kicked-in’

  Pub

  Drinking

  Can’t take it

  Aggression builds

  Transforms to violence

  Spills over onto the streets

  Bell for last orders ends round one

  Then three fall flat in the free-for-all

  Public telephones dialling nine-nine-nine

  Cause

  Carnage

  Country-wide

  Damage Devon

  Beach-brawl in Blackpool

  More mayhem in Manchester

  Bristol, Bradford and Birmingham

  Armed with killer kisses from Salford

  And seven inch long shafts from Sheffield

  Flash

  Blue light

  Ambulance

  Paramedics

  Hospital crisis

  Domestic incident

  Battered wife puts knife in

  Intensive care; blood transfusion

  Remorse; forgiveness, reunites them

  Thrust, stab; bedtime fun – morning; punch and slap

  Kids

  Witness

  The abuse
r />
  Keep their mouths shut

  Know what’s best for them

  They’ve felt their father’s fire

  Shared their mother’s misfortune

  Thought this time it might be different

  ‘When we’re older we’ll take our revenge’

  … … …Troubled family tradition preserved

  And with good reason… Because it’s the kind of game your parents… and your teachers… always told you not to play…!

  In fact it’s not just a game… Is it…? It’s a whole series of games… that become increasingly more difficult… increasingly more challenging… and increasingly more painful… as you graduate through the various levels…

  These are not team games… or group activities… These are games for individuals… determined individuals…Players…!

  There is no competition… There are no prizes… No medals are awarded… The only thing you gain… is pain…Extreme pain…

  These are…

  Dangerous Games…

  So…

  How do you get started…?

  Well… It’s all the sitting around that gets you started… started on something… different… Something quite different… Something extreme…

  Let’s face it… All that sitting around kind of gets to you… when you’ve got nothing else to do, because… well because… you can’t be doing the things you’d rather be doing… Rather than just sitting around… thinking… Thinking about the things you’d rather be doing… And that’s what gets you started… And getting started is easy… It only takes all that thinking you get to doing… through all that sitting around you’ve been doing… And once you do get started… you get right into it… And getting right into it is even easier than getting started in the first place… because it becomes so very addictive… so very quickly… Before you know it… you become dependent on it… That’s when you just know…

  So, yes… for sure… getting started is easy… All you need… to get started… is a front door… and, preferably, a sunny day…

  It also helps if you have two hands… Both of them your own… You need both hands… but you don’t need to be ambidextrous, or anything…

  With the front door open a crack

  and the afternoon sun, still strong

  You can settle into the beam

  that slices through the entrance hall

  Then, with left hand over right eye

  (because you need your good, right hand

  and the sun shines in from the left)

  You can stare at another world

  Raise right hand, in front of face

  wave rapidly before left eye

  Stroboscopic finger effect

  causes images to distort

  Perspective loses relevance

  Dimensions fuse, and time speeds up

  Colours merge into greyish-pink

  Tone and contrast exist no more

  The action enhances hearing

  Ultra-high and ultra-low

  frequencies can be distinguished

  and messages begin to form

  Suddenly contrast is restored

  Images show, in shades of grey

  like negative development

  for those grainy old black and whites

  Stills develop jerky motion

  It’s early Hollywood, with sound

  but nothing like you’ve ever seen

  shown at a cinema near you

  Your deepest dreams, your greatest fears

  take shape and manifest themselves

  somewhere between the world outside

  and that crack that lets darkness in

  4.In Decline

  You moved in circles populated by important men, to centre your attention on your own self-serving needs. Conflicting images, provoked by indirect, free thought compel you to explore the words that issued from your lips… As ready as you’d ever be to face up to your flaws, your weaknesses exposed, revealed the depth of your self-doubt

  Decreasing popularity, a rapid fall from grace, a half-truth half uncovered, and a hasty exit made

  The tightly-woven web of lies surrounding your affairs displayed a calm exterior; concealed a troubled mind. Unguarded overnight, the rusted gateway to your past saw souls forgotten breach the threshold; dominate your dreams. By morning light, decaying fibres frayed; dissolved to dust.

  A solitary strand survived intact; remained untouched, refusing to capitulate to futile, though well-meaning words of the seemingly sapient, caparisoned on some high horse.

  Fumbling fingers and thumbs fondle urban treasure; tobacco strands salvaged from the discarded dimps of those who leave a longer stub. ‘Crumple’ covers all the angles; Oxfam attire, through wrinkled skin, to that misshapen reefer…No purse required to join this club.

  Tincture (prescribed to soothe the wounds sustained surviving outdoor life), dispensed from council tip hip flask; one hundred proof panacea, completes the pattern of decline initiated by the glitch that failed to recognise the signs and doff its cap to ‘life’s a bitch’.

  And as you already know, it only takes a second of idle conversation… A lapse of concentration transforms a situation from random speculation to scenes of devastation, as ideas develop.

  At last obsession takes hold, as concepts become distorted… and it’s all downhill from there… Disturbed imagination, interrupted train of thought…

  Normal service is resumed, and due to circumstances beyond anyone’s control… out of reach of influence of impartial, outside help, independent observers, or unbiased referees… the mechanics of the mind... dangerous daydreams… take hold.

  Unable to sleep at night, logic and reason are lost. A world of whims without walls, events without witnesses, instruments of self-neglect and erratic behaviour are all at your disposal, with unlimited access… No constraints, restrictions.

  Decisions go unchallenged; all departures are delayed as new arrivals check in. All appointments are cancelled, all ambitions unfulfilled, and of course, all bets are off...

  Left to your own devices, the seeds of apathy are sown, and uncertainty takes root… And you find you’re living on a diet of pessimistic projections, and worst-case scenarios, with cynical points of view, until prophecies bear fruit, and new attitudes are born… which aren’t necessarily what anyone would describe as healthy, wholesome values.

  No good deed goes unpunished, which is just as well because at this very moment, you’re only scratching the surface… Locked in your troubled conscience, hidden in your sub-conscious, issues rise to the surface, which of course are followed by appeals for absolution. However, predictably, your petitions go unheard… No-one knows, and no-one cares… Someone must pay the penance; you know that person is you. But your painful, plaintive pleas are not acts of contrition… No need to apologise for the deeds of yesterday, for which you have no regrets… Actions you can’t justify, but actions nevertheless… if anyone ever asked.

  Behind your sinister smile, you’ve never tried to disguise your answer to the question, ever since the fat cats went away… permanently, leaving now fat mice to play… inventing Dangerous Games to play… when the time is right.

  And so the games continue…

  Something Distasteful

  Deceives Suburbia

  Semi-Detached

  Domestic Situation

  Slowly Decaying

  Disturbing Symptoms

  Severe Depression

  Dialogue Suspended

  Shame Degradation

  Damage Sustained

  Soul Destroying

  Disgraceful Secret

  Sympathy Denied

  Dysfunctional Scapegoat

  Statistics Dictate

  Downward Spiral

  Social Disorder

  Declining Standards

  Suffering Disguised

  Discipline Survives

  Suspicions Diffused

  Dubious Success

  Scars Deliver
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  Distorted Sentiments

  Senses Dulled

  Disabling Sincerity

  Sheer Desperation

  Determines Solution

  Sanity Doubtful

  Disaster Strikes

  5. The Pursuit Of Trivia

  A misdirected comment at an inopportune time creates a broken window of missed opportunity… which is kind of logical, in a messed-up kind of way…

  An open invitation in a tight-sealed envelope, initiates a response that will go without comment, without ever being said.

  An understated compliment, offers an understanding of overstated indulgence in unreasonable affairs… The product of a misspent youth…? Or of a well spent future…?

  No-one knows, or cares, these days… They’re all too preoccupied with things of no importance… things of no significance… with things that don’t make much sense. All have other fish to fry, other considerations they must take into account… other accounts they must take into consideration, while you ponder aimlessly, sitting there, thinking about nothing in particular… listening to the latest, hot chart hits and breaking news; global information from your local radio station, now turning its attention to random acts of boredom.

  Infotainment Show phone-in… Monday morning, possibly, maybe even afternoon, but definitely Monday… You make a simple request, as cynical as ever; a dedication to those who dedicate their lives to The Pursuit of Trivia… those with too much time on their hands, too much cash in their pockets, too much disposable income. No sign of an overdraft, not even the slightest hint; those who definitely have visible means of support, without any strings attached…

  You’re not jealous or anything, although it must be stated, you can’t afford the luxury of managing your own time; prioritising interests. You couldn’t even compile a short list of things to do; setting out intentions in chronological order… a graphical presentation, or put it another way, a Bucket List of wishes you’d never wish anyway… You wouldn’t even wish them on your greatest enemy… And we all know who that is… It happens to be yourself…

  Nothing to do but kill time

  The boredom is killing you

  Pace up and down; to and fro

  Wear a hole in the carpet

  No wonder you feel dizzy

  Somebody call a doctor

  Nothing to do but kill time

  The boredom is killing you

  Shout upstairs for assistance

  House has been empty for weeks

  The echo reverberates

  Nothing to do but kill time