Coats don’t see the sunshine,
Not without the rain,
As soon as the sun is fully out,
They are packed away again,
Warmth not required,
The Coat will make you sweat,
The good ol sunny shower,
Is the best the jacket will get,
At least until the autumn,
When it’s blustery and wet.
Apparently it was true, your life does flash before your eyes before you die. I perhaps should have done more, but no regrets eh. Except maybe slipping, that was a major regret. But clumsiness leading to a inevitable fatal fall not the most glamorous way to go out. I had perhaps underestimated the effects of the wind on the human body at 15 stories high, but I blame her entirely. Her smile, her eyes, her hair..
Why did she have to live on the top floor?
Why could she not have lived on the ground floor? Easy access and a easy route to enable a guy to make silly romantic gestures. A ground floor apartment would have eliminated the need for climbing and indeed falling entirely. A ground floor apartment would have made it much easier for a rotund gentleman such as myself. Mind you the surprise element on the ground floor would have been lost somewhat, hard to make a dramatic entrance through the front door! How mundane.
Why did I never pay attention in science class?
I would have been able to work out how fast I am falling. Even now I’m thinking this a strange thing to think about, with seconds left. Science and the absurdity of thought! Not my Mom and my Dad… well not my Dad, my “special” Uncle. My real Dad is an ass and living in Missouri with someone my Mum called a “brazen hussy” meaning the woman had bigger tits than her. Dad was always a “breast man” ironic really as last time I saw him his were bigger than any woman’s I’ve seen. Still he has the last laugh I guess cos he is safe with this moobs and his hussy and I am currently plummeting to my death.
Will I get into Heaven?
Maybe God will save me, or Spiderman. Who knows they are both figments of someones imagination but as the wind swooshes by I’d be happy if I dunno, Snap Crackle and/or Pop wanted to turn up and catch me. If heaven exists in my wildest dreams, the girl on the top floor should be there waiting for me on a four poster bed covered in maple syrup. Her not the bed cos that would be silly. I dunno religious types down here spend so long going on about how bad sex is, I guess all of it would be be banned in heaven. Hell then!
Will people understand?
I’m a very loving guy. I lived my life meaning no harm to anyone. The girl on the top floor is but the latest in a long line of my loves. Each one I have treated the same, I am very attentive whereas other guys they’d go off to ball games or to bars. Not me, always around. Always looking. Sometimes I’d get rewarded for my patience, a little flash here a little peak there. They knew all about me, they did. They looked longingly into my eyes. The girl on the top floor, she had the most beautiful eyes. I’m sure she’d miss me, or even feel a little guilty that her silly court order had made me climb to her apartment to catch what I am certain now would be my last glimpse.
How many times have you jumped so far this year? Not out of a plane or into a long jump pit but jumped out of surprise. You know the kind of “Oh my God Mark! What are you doing in my dress and stockings, it’s not Tuesday.” Kinda jump.
I bet you it’s less than me.
Yes as part of my continued quest to shine daylight on the magic that is disability, I bring you random jumping. Yes a wonderful effect of cerebral palsy means that should a sparrow fart when I’m not expecting it I jump, like a Magnum (the gun as opposed to the ice cream or Tom Selleck) has gone off in my ear. This might be fine, you might think, you’d surely get used to it. No. You don’t.
The reason why you don’t get used to it is the shear variety of ways it can effect you. Balloons are bastards, people popping said items, even when I know what is going to happen, I’m jumping more than a jack-in-the-box. Sometimes, jumping joins forces with the lack of balance with hilarious consequences, you jump and you fall down too. If I remade the video to “99 Red Balloons” I’d fill a whole Video Bloopers show all to myself.
School was a nightmare, especially the drama studio. Now I loved drama, wasn’t too good at it, but I enjoyed it. However we occasionally used to do these exercises, which involved laying down on the floor and getting as relaxed as possible, picturing we are off in a garden or something like that. Being a drama studio the room was largely empty, meaning the school bell signalling it’s “half period” warning was at it’s loudest. Couple this with my “relaxed” state and I jump up to the ceiling, to be laughed at by all, including the drama teacher.
The jump effect I hate most though. Is the tea / hot beverage jump. I love tea, drink it by the gallon. Carry it carefully from kitchen to lounge only for the phone to ring or something to fall down, do I keep composed? After all the tea is very hot. Do I fuck, I jump, tea flies through the air, usually close or over any expensive equipment I have. To top it all, it always seems to occur when I’m hankering after a cuppa the most. So I have to mop up and make another one.
Big deal you may say. But when this happens on a regular basis, you get tired of it. If I could change one thing about my disability it would be that. That over the not being able to walk, or being as dextrous as someone trying to pick up cooked pasta using only their arseholes. Yes those things I can live with, plan for, work around. What can I say, jumping catches me by surprise.