Old Lang Syne
We got an extension on our house when my aunty Noeleen came to live with us; she was our aunty, but immediately became our sister.
My uncle Seanie built it. We got a new back-boiler heating system, which was shite. The kitchen was always freezing. For the first thirty years, we didn’t call it the kitchen; we called it the extension.
The reason I’m writing about the extension is because the apartment I now live in is positioned at an identical angle – facing northwest, but don’t ask me for exact degrees coz my compass reading is as shite as was my uncle Seanie’s back-boiler heating system (It could’ve been Billy (Seanie’s brother), but Seanie was there – to blame – too.
One of my happy memories of life in 129 St. Maelruan’s Pk., was going into the post-extension upstairs bathroom and immediately squinting as the summer sun burst into the room and millions of light particles signalled the beginning of a new day in a time of innocence when I had fuck all awareness of what went on in this world. Now, about forty-eight years later the sun is still bursting in through windows and I’m ready for it, so I don’t become momentarily blinded like an unwary eight-year-old.
Back then I had no real clue as to what living was about and now not only do I know what living is about, but I also have a better idea than most as to what it’s like to die, or at least to be in that moment when you know it’s the end – and I know it didn’t turn out to be the end, but I didn’t know that at the time.
My mind is on fire. You would not believe the night I had. I can’t elaborate but it did involve knocking on the door of my very first childhood sweetheart – and no, for fuck sake, not in an illegal or stalking fashion.
I knocked on that door countless times in my teens, and when she opened the door and smiled at me last night, it was trance-like. I may have used a line from In Bruges (One of my all-time favourite movies) in a blog recently:
I know I’m awake, but it feels like I’m in a dream.
That is, of course, me being overly dramatic. However, when my childhood sweetheart looked at me it was as if time stood still, but that’s nothing new for me as since my near-death experience I take more time to stay in beautiful moments. I observed her for what seemed thirty minutes in a split second and I said; ‘I know I’m awake, but it feels like I’m in a dream.’
NO I DIDN’T … and here comes the first one of the blog … LOL.
I said, ‘I feel like I’m fifteen again.’
Met my old lover by the grocery store …
Did you – and be honest – know that Dan Fogleberg was dead?
It’s Day 36 of my Jumbo Sobriety Roll. Only 64 days to go.