Retrospective prose

Allatsea hadn’t been sent ‘out of town’ on a job for some time. When he was, recently, he grabbed his travelling and audit gear in an unpracticed way. Amongst the tools of the trade so grabbed, was a notebook, an essential bit of kit especially to a chap wotts memory is not as good as it once was.

The notebook in this case revealed much when it was opened. No dimensions, timings, weights and tides, or weather and similar to be seen. Instead page after page of what soon proved to be heartfelt outpourings and clumsy attempts at pressure relieving prose.

One, dated January 2008, proved particularly revealing of the emotions playing at the time. It was directed at a much loved family member who was destroying himself with the bottle.

I am a drunken man

I like to drink all day

People ask me not to

But I don’t care what they say

I never bath or shower, so I stink like a Saint Paul’s tramp

But before you dare to criticise me, bear in mind just this ,

I am right and you’re all wrong telling me what to do.

I am a drunken twat and I care not a jot about that.

I make life shit for those that sit, in the shadow of my piss.

My friends have gone, I drove them away with my drinking ways

Even though they tried their hardest not to

Cos I’m a drunken twat who’s too stupid to realise why-they hate me now?

I’ve got no strength to say…No.

Enough.

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About allatsea

Sixty year old master-mariner. Absolutely gorgeous. Well wedged.....when compared to a Nairobi street urchin. Sorted, in that I haven't been in court recently. Hopelessly optimistic, terminally disappointed. Good with cats and other fluffy things. No musical talent. Generous to a fault provided it's someone else's round. Political centreist with far right and left viewpoints. A green activist from the hydrocarbon position with nuclear leanings. Averse to avarice but always happy to receive lottery wins, gifts, windfalls, legacies, prizes and wet sloppy kisses.
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