On My Own Two Feet


3AM: a strange hour, as it’s somehow neither the night before nor the morning after.

It’s raining (because we need more rain at the moment) and the rain is beating on the skylight and keeping me awake.

(There are holes in the sky where the rain comes in; the holes are small, so the rain is thin).

So I’m awake and writing by candle light: this journal and the novel, the former now forming the basis of the latter and provisionally re-titled The Journal of Victor Frank. I’m currently creating the lead protagonist, Victor.

I’ve acquired two new rings in the form of hairbands I’ve been given. I have little hair and therefore no need for them but people give me things. I never ask but often it’s money, food, drink… Sometimes it’s just company and often the people I meet will give me things to remember them by and as a souvenir of my travels. That’s where the bands came from and they replace various rings which have been lost or stolen. This blog serves as back up but the actual book contains memories, stories, sentiments, signatures… All from people I’ve befriended. (It turns out the library has a scanner, so I may soon be able to upload some of the contributions contained in the journal).

Despite my ex-wife’s opinion to the contrary, I almost hope my kids do read this in the future, so that they don’t follow the path I’ve led. Also, I’ll be better long before then and they may even be proud.

I received a very positive comment about these musings earlier: the observation was that rather than this being the diary of someone who’s unravelling, it’s that of someone who’s working to get it all back together. On my own two feet.


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