These short stay places are fuck all use to you. Get checked into John of Gods give them a few weeks. You’ve nothing to lose from it and everything to gain.
You wouldn’t ever give that advice to someone. And you know that
These short stay places are fuck all use to you. Get checked into John of Gods give them a few weeks. You’ve nothing to lose from it and everything to gain.
You wouldn’t ever give that advice to someone. And you know that
I wouldnt give it to their face because I woukdnt want to feel in any way respondible for somebody else killing themselves, but privately that is what I would feel.
I wish you all the best, sincerely, and hope you can get through what is obviously an extremely tough situation. You have been desperately unlucky.
You possess a lot of writing talent – once you stay away from the easy option, in my view, of satirizing the self satirizing. I think there are outlets that would welcome a honest account of what you are enduring at the moment, if you felt up to that kind of writing at some point.
Beir bua.
Would you try John of Gods. Give it one more go
Thanks, that means something coming from somebody with a serious writing talent and somebody I think Id probably get on OK with if i was to have a pint with, though id probably want to have at least three pints first.
You are welcome any time buddy. Do that thing I said, remember, ‘A Dub exiled in Galway’ or 'portrait of a sports fan bt,before twitter) Write ten or so articles (you already have them written, nostalgia is money, also no politics for now), go to Advertiser or Tribune and offer them for free, they will love the idea, content is everything.
Do that and wiithin a year you’ll be a mainstay on The Irishmans Diary
If you’re stuck for a laptop dont worry about it. Also a good blowout is no harm the odd time, fuck the begrudgers
If you ever want to meet me for a pint, no problem. Anyone who likes Briody’s is okay by me. And I am supposedly – or so I am told – far more mild mannered in person than in some of my less wise online kerfuffles…
Mind yourself. I was 56 on Thursday and the main thing I have learned in life is that things get easier as you get older. Meaning: get older.
I suppose its better than the alternative, but, ah, maybe. The wsy Id see the psychiatric ward in UCHG is its purely somewhere to stop me walking in front of a bus. I walked in front of a car earlier, it was by far the least serious attempt at harming myself of this nature Ive had. Problem is was accompanied by the loudest screaming. I walked as far as the hospital, thought about walking in there, thought about walking into the gardau, thought about going into the community cafe thing i was at a couple of weeks ago, then i felt i really wanted a cigarette and some vodka, and had no money, so i walked home and slipped in as silently as possible.
Im not well. Im totally lucid but the other night i came home after drinking and went on for three hours about stuff that happened when i was in single figures age wise and how it still deeplt affects me (not abuse, ive never been abused)
Very good advice from a very good man.
I definitely wont ever be that. I’d be too self conscious and also writing in a small community under a pseudonym is a totally different ball game psyychologically to writing for a wider audience. There are nuances to writing here. Everybody here has a past, a persona, and understands the nods abd the winks abd the referebces. Antwsy, Im at best a challenger for the play off positions here in terms of writing ability. There are several lads here who would erite me under the table.
In no particular order Bandage, Tank, Malarkey and GMan would probably be occupying your top 4 positions in terms of writing ability here. They’d be your Oldham, West Ham, Sheffield Wednesday and Notts County to use a 1990/91 second division analogy, and remember Wednesday won the Rumbelows Cup that year. There are a good few posters pushing for those play off positions.
You are well able to write. Where you hamper yourself – in my view, for what saying so could be worth, at a time in your life when there is a million times more important issue – lies in trying to camber what.you say to an imagined (Irish Times-ish) audience. Most journalism is lard pie. What cuts the mustard is mustard.
I dont camber my views though. They’re merely what I believe. If they now broadly align with the editorial views of the Irish Times, well, that’s what they are I suppose. I think for a long time they wouldnt have, but in my experience, age teaches you to file off the sharper edges of what you believe about things that matter, and you end becoming a boring, middle aged centre lefty, with your heart further to the left than your brain. A curmudgeonly liberal, in other words. There are worse places to be.
Aristotle is a top writer.
Boxty is part Jeremy Paxman, part Jeremy Beadle.
We have similar politics, most ways round – except on the Six Counties.
My (unimportant) point – because by far my main point tonight was to try and offer some empathy, because maybe a stranger’s empathy can be significant – is that catering to narrowness is, well, a recipe for narrowness.
But the main thing, as for several people here, is that you know strangers wish you well, because you have a lot to contribute. Otherwise I do not mind if I am completely wrong – and I am an exceptionally opinionated person.
I’d say if you actually thrashed things out our views on the wee six wouldnt be too different.
Perhaps.
Anyway, mind yourself. And get older.
A lovely paragraph that is.
I remember reading an article shortly after the Derry players’ strike in 1994, after Eamon Coleman was sacked, and Enda Gormley saying something like “but will we ever again be together on a warm summer’s day in Clones?”
I have a vague notion of being at Croke Park on a warm summer’s day in 2025 or even 2028, and seeing clearly, straight goalposts, and having a pint with Leo and Patricia in Cleary’s, and then meeting up with Eamo up in the Gravedigger’s and drinking the shit out of it.
That’s the something.