Memo to self

Calling D from Tokyo in the wee small hours (I am 8 hours ahead here, in terms of both time and vapour-trailed excesses) has paid dividends, with new poetry posted to his blog.

I haven't had a chance to write anything, being 'on the go at the mo'. Here's a fragment from 'The Sea Inside', which is extremely likely to change.

Teardrop pitter-patter
erodes resolve,
while waves of pain
corrode the soul,
leaving the heart
to ebb and flow.

Anyway, onto the memo:

I will not get blind drunk yet again, I will not get blind drunk yet again, I will not get blind drunk yet again, I will not get blind drunk yet again, I will not get blind drunk yet again, I will not get blind drunk yet again, I will not get blind drunk yet again, I will not get blind drunk yet again.

Mercy, mercy me.

It ain't the hangovers (I don't get them), just the embarrassment of sheer consumption.