Lighting/Lightning: Self-Portrait Studies, October 2014

"Well, respected was not how I feel. I nearly didn’t press that button. Nearly got it wrong. That was you, my friend, making me scared, making me feel like a bloody idiot! Don’t you ever tell me to take the stabilisers off my bike and don’t you dare lump me in with all the rest of the humans you think are so tiny and silly and predictable. You walk our earth Doctor, you breathe our air. You make us your friends then that makes it your moon too, and you can damn well help us when we need it!”

If I die first, and I almost certainly will, you will be my sole heir. There’s not much in the kitty, except a set of ivory-backed hairbrushes and my library of romantic poetry, but when the time comes, these will be yours. Along with whatever we haven’t already spent on whores and whiskey.

He’s my son and I should be around him. I wasn’t around my dad and look at the fuckin’ way I turned out.


When you have a family, you’ll have a story to tell. Is that so bad?

When you have a family, you’ll have a story to tell. Is that so bad?

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