I am content with the realities of my vague and blameless life, spent cooking, reading, listening to records and drinking beer with friends.
I do not have a swear jar at home. I have a bottle of whiskey at home. And I happen to like pretty dark music--about melancholy, and anger, and sex, and love and loneliness.
My name is David John Clapp, you will find a history of my writing here: http://fuckmylife-fuckmylife.blogspot.com/
#cycling #southwest #england #bristol #summer ..this light looks good on you.

#cycling #southwest #england #bristol #summer ..this light looks good on you.

#signature #signed #copy [Chris Froome: The Climb]

#signature #signed #copy [Chris Froome: The Climb]

#peace #quiet #beer #meditation ..peace at last // Cornish Pilsner.

#peace #quiet #beer #meditation ..peace at last // Cornish Pilsner.

#coding #nerdlinger #javascript #jquery ..and so begins another chapter // another language.

#coding #nerdlinger #javascript #jquery ..and so begins another chapter // another language.

#bristol #harbourside #festival #ferriswheel #smoke ..smog around the figurehead.

#bristol #harbourside #festival #ferriswheel #smoke ..smog around the figurehead.

The hospital called last night
They said you’d gone code “silver”
They sent the police out searching
Found you down at an old haunt
High on your old ghost
You and “one drink” dez
They sent him back to prison
And they put you back to bed
They called in the morning
Said you were found outside
And put the phone down
Your cat jumped on my lap
And I laid down and I took a nap
Feeling bad and full of shame
That I somehow contributed to your pain
I wish I could help you with your problems
But baby, I got enough of my own

I fell asleep and dreamed of you
The other end of the phone now said code “blue”
I hailed a taxicab
Got there and found you up in ward two
My beautiful sweet Elaine
All that was killing you finally drained
From your sweet angelic face
And I kneeled down
And whispered your name

I cried and I cried
You crawled and found a corner
And you died
I ought to kiss my sweet Elaine goodbye
I walked out in the rain
And there you were again
Looking down on me from high
Like a cloud in the sky

I cried and I cried
I remembered all the nights
That I loved my sweet Elaine
And that I kissed my sweet Elaine
And then I looked up high
Saw you floating in the sky
And I cried and I cried
Like a baby I cried

Not much to pick from in my view
Trees that shake when the wind comes through
And boats, I guess, and the water is blue
But I only feel alive when the birds fly

Not much to pick from in my record collection
I sold ‘em all away, don’t want no recollection
I put ‘em in the past, don’t wanna hear the songs
Just wanna play guitar and sing my own

The phone rang, I picked up, it was you
You said you were out there waiting
I hailed a taxi, pulled up front
There stood a pretty lady smoking a cigarette
Looking eight pounds heavier
I helped you into the back
And put your bags in the trunk

Hurt Robinson was a friend of mine.

lets smoke weed and inhale a beer in the bathroom upstairs, we can crack a window, place a towel under the door and if they catch us i don’t care because you’ve got three more weeks of this shit and then you’re on to better things, three more weeks until summer and then its swim or learn to sink.

Oh, Daisy. I know you’re just being honest, I can tell you’re high right now but you need to take a moment, inhale, and hold it in before you let it out.

we could stand in the middle of green space park with a couple of signs, write what you want on yours but let me take care of mine. yours will read “god is love and love is all that you need” mine says “for the cost of a cold beer I will keep you company.”

Oh, Daisy. I know you’re just being honest because your lord loves you the most but when you call upon your father he brings along the son and a god damn ghost. 

But when everything goes wrong and I’m in trouble, she’s always there with a song and a pair of raging knuckles. so, I know that until there is no suffering shes going to sing and shes going to swing.

Oh, Daisy. Until there is no suffering, you’re going to sing and you’re going to swing.

——-

Hurt Robinson sits alone in the corner of the ring, poor boy is just wondering what the hell he has done wrong cause when his friends were low he got dirty right down there in between them but the boy moves slow and before he knew it they’d all cleaned up and gone. but that don’t mean that some things ain’t worth the fighting, Hurt Robinson taught me that: some times you swing to keep the Thunder from the Lightning. Some times it’s just to make that devil laugh.

Hurt Robinson has lost over half the matches he’s appeared in, they tend to always pit him against men at least twice his size but when that bell a’rings and he hears the crowd cheering he realizes it ain’t about the bark, lord knows its about the bite. but that don’t mean that some things ain’t worth the fighting, Hurt Robinson taught me that: some times you swing to keep the whole thing from igniting and sometimes you’re barely swinging back.

Oh no. Oh no. Don’t you go, Hurt Robinson. Oh no.

#accidental #cycling #photography ..standard issue, accidental picture of clouds whilst fumbling with the camera pedalling full gas on the bike.

#accidental #cycling #photography ..standard issue, accidental picture of clouds whilst fumbling with the camera pedalling full gas on the bike.

#cycling #southwest #england #bristol ..impromptu Bristol south cycling club meeting at the national championship road race today in Wales.

#cycling #southwest #england #bristol ..impromptu Bristol south cycling club meeting at the national championship road race today in Wales.

#cycling #southwest #england #bristol ..jumped on the back of a bristol south cycling club train today on my ride over the bridge to Wales to watch the national championship road race.

#cycling #southwest #england #bristol ..jumped on the back of a bristol south cycling club train today on my ride over the bridge to Wales to watch the national championship road race.

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