I'm Proud Of What I Write And

They Say The Path Of True Love Never Runs Smooth. Well, Luke And My True Love's Path Didn't Run At All, It Limped Along In New Boots That Were Chafing Its Heels. Blistered And Cut, Red And Raw, Every Hopping, Lopsided Step, A Little Slice Of Agony.

You've Recognised A Fundamental Feature Of An Addict's Life. Maintaining Your Habit Is So Important You've No Real Interest In Anything Else.

I Know Of People Who Don't Believe It, But Depression Is An Illness, But Unlike, Say, A Broken Leg, You Don't Know When It'll Get Better.

It's Not Like You Take The Right Turning And You Get Everlasting Happiness And You Take The Wrong One And Your Life's A Disaster. In Real Life It's Often Impossible To Tell Which Decision Is The One You Should Make Because What You Stand To Gain And What You Stand To Lose Are Sometimes-often-neck And Neck.

I Went Grey At 12, My Eyesight Went At 17. I've Been A Crock From Very Early On.