Greetings once again friends, and welcome to another in the
series "John's Jottings". You know, there is really no doubt that I will go
The problem we are left with is, what particular form that madness
should take? Should I for instance, scream the place down and froth at the
mouth, or sit quietly with my head against the wall? Perhaps occasionally
humming tuneless snatches from a half-remembered rugby song?
However, before I become completely unhinged, I think I should
use the time available to examine the cause of all these outpourings;
To put it in one word:
To begin with, I have the hands of a poet and lover, two
requirements not needed for this particular ballgame.
Do any of you
readers out there really know what it is like trying to work mechanically with
fingers which when they get near a bike, all immediately decide to turn into
This brain is not exactly suitable for the task either. I think
I told you last time about my flyaway mind. Just imagine me standing at my post
and my head thinking:
"Who am I? What is life all about? Why is there air?"
A second later a heavy metal object strikes me forcibly on my
That's not all, only the other night I must have spent the sleeping
hours dreaming about Chains.
Because I woke up in the morning with a stiff link.
Well once again time has beaten us and so I say unto you,
cheerio: But I'll leave you with this final thought:
If all the worms in the world were laid end to end, so they
stretched from here to the moon,
One of them would be bound to wriggle and
spoil it all!