Writing a letter to myself…Christ I must be going donkey mad! I’ve never kept a poxy diary in my life, except for this one time when Cronin and me first arrived in East Hampton/New York. We managed to keep it going for about 3 days, before better times began to take up our time. But that’s a tale for another day. Diary’s are for people like Adrian Mole and his fuckin’ type, I’m too old or young or cool or something, I’m not supposed to anyway and I know that for sure, n’anyways….…….!
But then you gotta think; supposed to according to who, or what or why or who bleedin’ for? You’re not the boss of me now, but then who fuckin' is? (Oi! Teacher, leave those kids alone!) Wise old men, grandparents and crazy people all say life is supposed to be more fun when you get to my age and older and I would most certainly agree but it also gets a lot more fucking complicated. So the way I see it is that in this the “Information Society” we need to manage this information properly. Apply this to all the thoughts and bullshit doin’ loops inside your head and soon enough you might be able to sort it into a filing cabinet of some sort. From here one can then work and give the appearance of being a respectable 9-5 citizen of sound mind, body, soul, interests, appearance, behaviour, etc. fuck off you wankers I’ll do what I like Mary, it’s okay Paddy! What’s it got to do with you anyway???
See now? That’s what happens when I don’t manage my thoughts. I ask too many questions and try to do too many things at once and end up getting very confused and getting nothing done. Thus, just like I told you, it’s a very fucking complicated world at my age and it’ll probably get even more twisted too!!! And so I’m keeping a diary to save me from the demons of insanity and so that we may always go forward and only remember to look backwards every now and then. And in the words of ‘The Islandman’ Tomas O’...