The Faron Young Breakthrough

It was there. The answer. It was right in front of me. The very fact it took a Faron Young LP for me to realise it takes nothing away.

Hello Walls.

Or rather Hello Ceiling (hello, hello), I'm gonna stare at you a while.

It is not often that answers can be found up above, but it happens. The cracks in my ceiling reminded me of the crime scene. The cracks look just like the cracks in the floor. They didn't rob the safe, they replaced it. There is still time. They may not have cracked it open yet.

Broken Heart

Though I have a broken heart
I'm too busy to be heartbroken
There's a lot of things that need to be done
Lord I have a broken heart

Though I have a broken dream
I'm too busy to be dreaming of you
There's a lot of things that I've gotta do
Lord I have a broken dream

And I'm wasted all my time
I've gotta drink you right off of my mind
I've been told that this will heal given time
Lord I have a broken heart

And I'm crying all the time
I have to keep it covered up with a smile
And I'll keep on moving on for a while
Lord I have a broken heart

Ladies and Gentlemen we are Floating in Space

All I want in life's a little bit of love to take the pain away
Getting strong today, a giant step each day

I've been told only fools rush in, only fools rush in
But I don't believe, I don't believe- I could still fall in love with you

I will love you till I die, and I will love you all the time
So please put your sweet hand in mine, and float in space and drift in time

All my time until I die, we'll float in space just you and I
So please put your sweet hand in mine, and float in space and drift in time

I'll love you to death, I guess that's what you get
And I don't know where we are all going to
Love don't get stranger, it is what it is
And I don't know where we are all going to

Everything happens today, and that's what you get
And I don't know where we are all going to

The case for man destroying everything he loves

I have had a lot of messages from you. Many asking about me and my wife. It's ok, I don't mind talking about it. It's all I ever seem to talk about anyway. The story goes like this...

I first met Niamh when I was about 18 or 19, she was everything I wasn't. At least outwardly. In those days I had a really decent raincoat that I'd nicked off some pissed bloke on a night out. She complemented me on it just as it started to rain thereby ensuring I'd do the gentlemanly thing and let her borrow it. That was the last time I ever wore my raincoat. It looked better on Niamh anyway.

I remember when we bought a typewriter with the money we'd saved from doing whatever it was we did for money back then. We had just been to the cinema and seen a double bill of film noir classics. We were walking past a charity shop and they had one going cheap in the window. It needed a new ribbon but we could just about afford it. She bought me a hat too so that I could look like a detective. We used to stay up for hours just having snappy noir conversations and typing them onto the paper. "We'll make a film one day" she said.

We were married not long after. And with the typwriter being about the only thing we owned we settled down onto the floor of our house together. Money was tight but we kept ourselves amused with our noir fantasies and eventually my dad gave us his record player. We dreamed of dancing around the tiny bare floors of our house in time to the music in one long embrace.

We rarely had time for friends but we didn't need them whilst we had each other. It was around this time we both started to drink heavily. Eventually the drink started to turn things sour and we'd argue, Niamh would storm out and I'd just drink some more until we woke in each others arms blissfully unaware of the evenings animosity.

And then one day I just wanted the drinking to stop.

Niamh didn't and I quickly began to relate to her less and less and sought more selfish vices in the form of Anna. For the record, looking back I never was even close to loving Anna but at the time she seemed like the ray of light. I can't remember how long our sordid affair lasted but suddenly she tired of me and I began to see how much Niamh needed me.

So I started drinking again.

Niamh and I were briefly back to our old ways and old passions and although the guilt of Anna was always in my mind I knew that telling Niamh would only make things worse. Eventually we began to ween each other away from alcohol and were greeted with the blessed news of a baby on the way.

I still don't know who told Niamh about Anna, all I remember is the horrible, haunting silence. Our house was never silent, there was always a well worn LP spinning loudly or someone speaking quickly about "the train, damn it! She's on the train". This day there was no noise.

I found her slumped over the bath surrounded by vomit, gin and a bottle of sleeping tablets. She left no note but she'd scribbled the name Anna all over.

So I drink to be close to her again, the music doesn't stop and I still act out our movie - line by line.

So tell me dear readers - do any of you think that you have destroyed someone you love/once loved?

New Years Dissolution's

I don't do resolutions.

1. Either give the wife's ashes to her drug addled sister or spread them somewhere she would have liked.
2. Shave more often.
3. Move away from Manchester - I hate it here. There are too many ghosts.
4. Stop drinking.
5. Find someone to make me happy.
6. Get a real job rather than messing about with the PI business.

Of course none of these will happen. Mainly because I can't/don't want to do number 4 and the rest essentially rely on it.

Happy New Year, lets hope 2008 isn't as bad.