Thick as Brick

Tull dances over my ears as I board the train. My thirty minute train ride into london is quiet, trains are only full of workers, seats are cushoioned though uncomfortable. Train can smell too, especially the cars with the bathroom but it fades as you sit there.
I often stare out at the same scenery each and every day. Memorizing every little house, every detail, following the ravensbourne creek as it swirls near the tracks.
I look out for birds, spotting sparrows, robins, and wood pigeons.
There is a casio keyboard, stuck in this over grown grass hill at a stop prior to new cross gate.
There is a rusting paint can under the platform at clock house.
There are gardens, football pitches, rugby goal posts, and five a side hard courts a long the way.
It doesn't change much, some mornings its raining, others its over cast, and a few times you have the sun flashing its morning brilliance out.
Of course I often ride it at night in the winter, and I look out for the lights of my home to see if Tina arrived earlier than me.
I've spent most of the last few months thinking.
And thinking.
And now that I am married, house is done, and my job keeps me occupied the time seems to zoom. Hours are minutes, minutes are seconds.
I can't really find my purpose anymore or goals or interests.
I plod on with my music and the occasional video game.
I need to maybe find the energy to begin learning that taunting guitar.
If this is it in life, despite the constant threat of death or horrible outcomes due to idiots, then I can't help but think life is some game. The more I live the less I feel a god or purpose as much as I know that death is not the end....not at all. Its all in the mind really...we just have to think of it.

What is the craziest thing?

What is the craziest thing I have ever done. This is a blog so its time to get personal and honest.
This will sound lame, but its honestly all I can think of, but sometimes...you get that dumb email. That thing you know is silly but you think about it anyways and you can never on the spot come up with that thing. Well this is one of those questions cept I thought of the answer and then thought the question.
On one of my many blured trips to the gothic club called The Bank, on friday nights in manhattan during the late nineties, I went with my usual friends of the time. Unk, got quite drunk. The details are lost, but he was barfing int he mens bathroom. My friends wanted to have a good time, ignored him, i spent the whole night watching him.
We leave the bank, I remember people walking out but it was early, and they were a bit upset, said he would be fine to leave him. Then I said I will take him home, they said, whatever, and took off in a cab to another club. It was just me and drunk unk.
We got on the train, I think he was sick all the way, out of it.
We got out and some where back outside the club I said I will drive him.
Now. I dont know if i was drinking that night, probably was stopped and was not drinking for three hours, plus i know i drank less or went on water i was sober, but still buzzed at the time of the decision sober when i got back.
But i have little to none driving experience, passed a road test at sixteen.
So in i go.
Driving the unkin nut.
Now this is one of those things you dream about, a very very real nightmare. An odd feeling of not knowing how to drive, yet driving unk in the unkin one.
Yah so there I am. Driving this shit. I think now, what the FUCK was I doing.
Take a car, or walk. How broke was I, not to get car service.
OK.
So me and Unk, driving. Unk knocked out.
He lived off an odd road in south east Brooklyn. Near Gerrittsen. I knew the area quite well, but lived there only a few years.
Its all Angles, and I missed his avenue, went past, but south.
See north, if you travel, takes you onto a straight route near the mall I know great.
But if you are south, it veers you south to this small little community, well i stayed on the main road and it dead ends at a beach. i knew i was lost, awoke unk.
And he was not much help.
Made a u turn and went back.
By magic, found his road.
Now i remember being fucked on how to park.
But damn near i got a spot by his house.
Walked him to his basement home, sent him.
Walked back fifteen minutes in the cold drizzle, dressed in my hoody, cold in goth make up and chains rattling. Stomped my way home.
A true creature of the night.