So a blog.

Been looking about the place, reading blogs. Seems that all I have to offer to the blogging community are my thoughts.

Well I think it's time I got some help. I've been quite depressed these last couple of weeks. Not feeling down, full blown depression, suicidal, everything hurts. Thoughts hurt, body hurts, other peoples actions and words hurt.
Culminating today in a break, for no apparent reason. My circumstances haven't changed. I'm still unable to throw myself into hard menial labour. Something I enjoy immensely.
So why the break? All I can think is that I've exhausted my reserve of what ever chemical it is that acts on the brain to make you depressed.
Everything seems brighter, like there is more light on tap... strange, I know. Well that's just the way my perception works.
Luckily/unluckily I'm not euphoric. I don't know how I feel about being a manic depressive. It seems to me that at least they get a bit of reward on the manic upturn to in some way compensate for the depressed down turn. Though from what I gather the lows are much lower and there's a lot of scope to cause pain to others on the upturn. I don't think I could suffer going any lower than I have been. I nearly checked out a couple of times in the last week. If I'd done something to cause a loved one some pain, I'd have exited stage left for sure. No encore.


Get some good stuff together to attract a good drummer and keys player for my band. Only ideas, snippets of songs. Melody lines and chords. Leave the rest of it to team work. Glen my bassist friend is aweome. Utterly remarkable. He's got a knack for offering counter position to everything I come up with.

Also, know how the old adage goes that you never suspect the guy next door as being a mass murderer.
In October my neighbours moved. Not the normal house move with removal trucks and all that jazz. A moonlight flit. There one minute gone the next.
(now for a bit of background)
I never liked the man of the house. In fact I thought "man of the house" stretching the term a bit. Lazy, shifty. I'd like to say controlling but have to settle for bullying as he didn't have the brains to be controlling. Within a week of him moving in I had to square up to him. He'd decided my missus needed a bit of instruction on gardening. Whilst he always resorted to getting his arthritis crippled wife to push the mower around.  So he got the wrong end of the ragmans trumpet.
After a couple of months it turns out he's a recovering heroin addict. Ah so that explains the slew of vagrants going to the house. Yeah right, recovering. Selling more like.
Well back to the move.  It turns out that his son (also a bit of a smacktard) has gone for custody of his kid. Had to have social services investigate the kids potential home life. Came back with the result of "not while you have anything to do with your dad".
The story goes that my neighbour was wanted for an attack on some kid thirty years ago. Shock horror.
So I hear off another neighbour last week that my old neighbour is dead. Heroin overdose. Turns out it wasn't one attack on a kid. He's wanted for a string of offences against kids. Culminating in the rape of a 14 year old lad.
As much as I disliked him, I'd have never guessed...
It leaves me in a bit of a quandary. I couldn't celebrate Gaddafi, Bin Laden or Hussain's deaths. I put myself above glorying in the death of another man. All I want to do is celebrate the fact that the rat bastard ex-neighbour is dead.
Guess I ain't above it after all.

SO I'm feeling better, best go find some adventure.

So a blog.

What's this all about? What am I just meant to share random thoughts?
 Create literary masterpieces and post them here?
 Incite the world to riot? Oh yeah that didn't work last time. Just that everyone forgot and carried on sleeping in tents in the middle of cities. Silly people.
Write a cookery book?

Well it's clear there's nothing to spout at the moment.