Another flow of consciousness from a sick boy.
Young boys, always remember naughty girls. That’s just the way it is. Now, that’s what I call girl power. I always found rude, (good old fashioned word) girls a turn on and still do, to this day. Speaking of nostalgia, I had hair once. I wonder what happened to that?
Strangely, as I get older the past reasserts itself. The Beatles, have come back into my life.
The Grateful Dead, still hold on at No.1 but Classical grooves, such as “The Lark Ascending” and “Theme on Thomas Tallis,” by Vaughan Williams are selling well.
“Help,” is shifting some numbers along with “Rubber Soul.” I can’t help it, my memory is turning somersaults and the times at Eccles Grammar, seems very vivid.
Sometimes, it’s a piece of Classical melancholia, that sets my mind wandering. I’ve walked along cliff tops with Beethoven and I’ve stood on the Snowdon Horseshoe, with Sue and seen Eagles soaring below me on the peaks of The Glydwrs. I’ve watched as the clouds cleared and the whole of Anglesey could be seen, like a jewel floating on a deep blue sea but those days, are just memories now and so, I write about them, in letters to you.
Some years ago, Sue and I walked like a couple of mountain goats across the narrow track, that that marks the razor’s edge of the ‘Red Wall.’ With nothing to the right of you but a 100 foot shear drop to the ocean and no help, for miles.
From these events, come lasting memories, that you carry with you for the rest of your life.
Love, fear and loss.
Moments of sheer bliss and the burning agony of lost love, stay with you for ever and often pay you a call, in the still of the night, when you are most susceptible and have nowhere to run. Those are the moments, that the Russians call, “The hour of the wolf.”
I have many such hours.
Actually, I’m quite a cheery bloke but sometimes the Wolf takes me down. Reckon, that it must be the time of year, or something. Summer’s faded and The Winter, is just over the horizon. The clocks have just gone back and the sun, does seem a long way away.