The forest.

Image courtesy of

I awoke to the stillness of death. Not even the forest dared to breathe. No birds flew overhead and no flower blossomed my way. I felt…well, I felt deflated, abandoned almost. The last several hours had forsaken me and now I lay almost completely saturated in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. And I am by no means squeamish but, believe me when I say that this was a horrifying site to behold.
Bodies lay scattered all around. Some limbs had boldly managed to half climb the silver birchs to the west of the clearing. The sun was setting. Whatever had brought me to this place had obviously and unceremoniously dumped me and left. Belatedly, I searched for the flute I vaguely remembered, or did I dream it? Anyway, my moral compass still pointed east. Blood soaked or not I still had to get back home. I needed answers! Perhaps the brotherhood would help me? I thought back to that overcast day so long ago. The image of my father falling…
Gingerly and confused I clambered out of the tree line and on toward the  French boarders. I scratched at the nape of my neck, still confused but certain that I was responsible for all this death. A thin tendril of smoke rose from a nearby village. I paused for a split second before continuing. Any questions I had would have to wait. This place was giving me the creeps.

The piper

A peace settled over me as I slowly made my way back to mother England. Especially, as I wandered through the eye of the storm in the barbaric lands of Germany.  The cold nipped at the nape of my neck, not an unusual sensation, except it wasn’t cold outdoors. It was a reaction, that I seem to have for reasons unknown, to  Spectres. Nasty malicious spirits that have not learned to let go. They tend to group together, but these specific nasty bastards had accumulated a spirit fucking army!
   I had absolutely no idea what was happening to me as they attacked. It felt like my insides were being liquefied and my skin slowly being friction burned off my body. I tried to resist, I tried but I didn’t know what the fuck was happening. Next thing I knew, I was marching through a small village to the south of Germany with a big bastard knife tucked into my trousers, so to speak,  and a flute! I couldn’t even play it, or that’s what I thought. Walking straight into the village with that flute caressing my lips I played a tune so entrancing, so magically inspiring that what little presence or control I still had of my body was carried away and followed the piper gormlessly like the rest of the villagers into the dark forest.

Wattpad, here comes Henry!!

Yes, it is me again! Prolific and damned annoying,  I know!
But, a wise man has told me (Henry) to “get on that wattpad thingy, Henry!”
And so, as he said, I am taking his advice and getting on it.  I would like to invite any, if any,  already blog hungry fans of Henry’s mind farts to come and read what Henry will be laying at the table. And when I say table, I mean wattpad thingy, and when I say thingy, I don’t mean anything, in fact I just mean .com.
So, all bullshit aside, who’s coming with me??
(Maybe they didn’t hear me)
I said, who’s coming with me!!
(Echo, echo)
…2nd tumbleweed followed by the sound of the wind blowing open a loose gate…
Looks like I am going alone then.
Don’t worry about me. I can look after myself.
I’ll be back. Don’t wait up for me, tinsel town!!

Its a confidence Game

Confidence can make all the difference in a person. It can make the rest of the world realise your talents. Or it can highlight your deluded perception of yourself. Either way it is powerful.

Alcohol brings it out in us, amongst many other things, it brings forth the “I don’t care what the rest of the world thinks, blah blah blah” spiel. And that’s just it. Confidence, the tricky bloody sod, can be broken down. It isn’t just one emotion; its two!
I break it down like this:
One part self belief,
One part arrogance.

I know your thinking right now that I am talking out of my sphincter,  maybe I am. But I will stop, I promise! Ahhhh, no I won’t…

Also, accomplishment brings it out in us. We become an elevated version of ourself. Looking down from our place most high. Sanctimoniously, I suppose.  I see it in others. I have seen in it in myself. I try to keep away from that which makes my moral compass twitch. Sometimes my eye twitches. I look like a spooky bastard. They say it is called a lucky twitch. I say it is fucking annoying, and in fact I am unlucky to have it happen to me. I digress, confidence as a complete package is quite beautiful but, it can carry unfortunate passengers with it. It is quite fascinating. People are fascinating.  I like them…people, that is. Not all of them mind! I couldn’t eat a full one!!

Ok, weird rant thing over. Thank you for tuning in to radio Henry.

Remember: if it hurts, stop playing with it!

The stories of our life

Everybody wants something, fact. And this ‘thing’ we seek always requires some sort of effort, another fact. Now, just to make things spicey, there is usually always something that stands in our way, an obstacle of sorts? That typically leads us down paths seldom trodden, by us. Venturing out of our comfort zones in order to reach that treasure we tend to walk the line of temptation. Where it becomes easy to stray. Where we find ourselves, our true self.
The twist. We either choose to change for better or worse, or we don’t.  We either get what we want, or we fail. But. sometimes failure isn’t the worst outcome. We learn to live with ourselves after everything that has happened. How will change affect us and the worlds we live in?
Exciting times ahead.
I cannot wait for the story of life!

Anger management

Anger, it lingers within. It matures over time and festers into something…more. Something hideous if left or ignored. I try to capture anger and convert it into something creative.  That is God’s true gift to us.  The ability to create with almost limitless possibilities.  God or whatever you believe in. Aliens? An elephant with 6 fucking arms, whatever! Anger is dominant.  Right now I am angry. You know what, I ain’t angry I am pissed off…that’s worse than angry.  How best to release that pressure?  Explain it? Articulate my feelings into a blog? Yeah, that’s what I do. It is far better than punching shit. I know people that punch shit and smash things. I think it is absolutely ridiculous, it’s childish. Anyway, enough of them weirdos lets talk about me and my weird anger issues!
I, ahhh, don’t feel quite as angry anymore. Yep,  that did the trick.
Fuck anger and all its angry shit. Angry bastard. Im angry with being angry!!!
I would like to leave now.
I am going.

Oh oh, he’s back playing games!!

I feel like a steam train that has run out of steam! Or like a super soaker 3000 in the middle of a nation wide hose-pipe ban. The equipment is all there but no ammo!
Plenty of ammonia though…eh?
I say weird things sometimes.  Sometimes I don’t even know why.
I’m going to a ‘Duck do’ tonight.
Say it…
Say it…I dare you.
If you like a load of chocolate on your biscuit,  join our …?
Say it!
You just said it didn’t you? Don’t lie! We’re all bloody grown ups here. Look, you can lie to me, you can lie to your Mothers, but you cannot lie to yourself.
What? Winners don’t cheat and cheaters don’t win. Except when they do, because they cheated. Cheating bastards. The referee’s a ….?
Say it…
Henry says touch your nose.
Do it.
Bollocks to this, I’ve got bigger fish to fry…



Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 142 other followers