BLACK IS MY HEART

 This  morning started with my usual Breakfast of Champions: two Vyvanse, a pickled egg and a cup of coffee. The only thing missing is a high octane energy drink, but that shall surely come. Whatever gets you through the night or day I say.


I didn’t write anything  that day.Thought a lot about it. Curled  up in a ball, lied and bed and confined myself to my thoughts as is my usual fashion. Today breakfast du jour was a Java energy drink, two Vyvanse and a half pack of smokes. I’m going to go on a health kick.

I’m 65 years old now. I came to Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada ten years ago as healthy as a horse, still a man reminiscent of the stud of his youth. In 2013 I was diagnosed with prostate cancer which thankfully is in remission as well as diabetes. However, my mobility is impaired and I have a small basketball for a belly with sticks for arms and legs. I reckon I look like a pregnant spider.

Of course this blog is in its infancy and will go through growing pains. I intend to post regularly so as to feed keywords to all the web crawlers and bots out there and get more views. I really get off on seeing the stats from Google on how many views I get and from which country. And as I write I have one follower besides myself, and for this I am grateful.

Twenty years ago when the internet was just becoming a thing, I had www.johnpaulyoung.com and would check my fan mail first thing in the morning and corresponding with those in France, Austria, Japan etcetera. 

But outrageous fortune played a hand in my life and I effectively disappeared for twenty years.

I didn’t tell anyone but I actually felt the compulsion to snuff myself the past few weeks.

But that would never happen rest assured dear readers.



This blog provides me with a forum to share my music, films, writing, photographs and musings. Currently in absence of any product or project to promote it’s a great platform to connect with fans and friends after a too long twenty year hiatus. Flow of consciousness postings, seemingly disconnected sometimes, eventually make sense when viewed as a whole.

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Anonymous said…
Truth is like poetry, and most people fucking hate poetry.
~ The Big Short.
Thursday, 2 February 2023 at 13:23:00 GMT-4
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