Tales from the Dark
Well, dear reader. The last time I adressed you directly I was bona fide Professional Girlfriend. But now the tables have turned, and technically I am now Unemployed Single Mum (On benefits). BUT… I am keeping the nickname because it has a nice ring to it – And it is a perfect representation of the perch I will swing back onto soon. 2009 has been a wayward bitch of  a year, but a real eye opener in so many respects. In a previous post I made men

An Anonymous Poem Written on a Cemetery Wall in Spain
I read a translation of the above at my father’s funeral the other day. It’s a poem that came to my attention completely randomly, and I thought it said some very meaningful things about life and death. It was found in Gaucin, Spain, and as far as I am aware it is completely anonymous. I’ve translated it as best as I could. “Death is nothing. It is merely as if one went to sleep in the adjacent room. I

Grief is Pathetic Pain
Removes all eloquence. Has no known cure. Has no known use. Just hurts, helplessly, pathetically. Bites you on the bum when you least expect it to. When lulled into a false sense of security, the memory of the awful truth seeps through like sharp poison. Like rotten, rabid sharp teeth. Isolates you in your own despair. The emptiness hurts like hunger but you still can’t swallow. Dead and reduced to nothing but ash. It cannot be because it is implausible, unthinkable, unbelievable. You were sitting just opposite me at the dinner table. And now I will never see you again. It can̵