booktowrite

Looking for a September holiday destination? Come and celebrate with us on the 2nd of September in Vigo, Spain, at La Fabrica de Chocolate for concerts, raffles, food, drink and a generally huge party. #thehandicaps #celtavigo #lapreviaceltista #vigo #vigocity

I was born into a struggling family in the north west of England. We lived in a small industrial town on the outskirts of Manchester. Glamour was forbidden us, as, it seemed, was the sun. Sunglasses were for Hollywood celebrities and even Coca Cola a mere fantastical fad from a far-off land where the sun always shone. We had rain and wind and cold grey...
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The pain that we feel inside, the things that we hide. A lady pushes a pram and rolls her eyes as her husband walks by her side and says something softly into her right ear. Across the road a man in a car that is falling apart attempts to park and looks as if he is hungry and close to tears. Business men are scurrying...
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It’s something of a mess. The alcohol. The flirtation. The lack of sleep. A life of good fortune being pushed too far, perhaps. Writing and reading and music are the things for which I live and, thrown in with this, I want to have fun before I am too old to do the things I can do today. Therefore, there is a fine balance between...
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I've been traveling so much of late that I've not had a chance to write. So, here, upon this flight from Madrid to London, I'll pen a few words. So much comes to mind that I’m almost at a loss. It feels great… familiar and strange to be back in Madrid. The city that was home for three years and still feels like a home...
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The story of the spare wheel remains consistent and it remains true. As Morrissey once wrote, ‘in my own strange way I have always been true to you.’ In my own strange way I have always been true to Morrissey. Tonight I went for a drink with a very lovely French lady of Vietnamese descent in the inviting area of Davis Square and had a...
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A whisper pierces the night from beyond the corner of the room. It’s the rusty whisper, or sigh, of sadness… like a fleeting memory of a happy and beneficial friendship now buried in the sand of past time and marked as nothing more than a communal grave… a mass burial ground for all of the friends and lovers that I lost by being too friendly...
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The linguist reappeared and brought a smile to my very soul. I had suspected that she had fled instead and had recoiled in horror at the thought of my existence. Apart from the fact that I am older than her, we have many things in common… a love of words and their usage, the meanings that are derived from their different usages, the way that...
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You posted a memory from three years ago and, even though I had seen the photo before, when you originally posted it, something about it struck me for the first time. In the photo your running gear is neatly laid out upon your bed prior to the marathon and the bedsheet on your bed is one that I gave to you. It was one that...
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These days I cling to things, little pieces of happiness like the renewal of credit on a travel card or the arrival in the post of an envelope containing shuttle bus passes for the month. These pieces of happiness exist in direct opposition to the equal moments of mini-despair when the credit on one’s travel card dwindles towards zero and the last boxes of the...
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Tonight the rain falls heavily. It has done so all day long. It is beautiful and a bit scary at the same time. Possibly scary because my apartment in Madrid leaked so frequently when it rained this heavily. I lie here tonight and wonder if the people living on the top floor of this building are facing leaks. Looking out of the window I see...
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It’s like extracting teeth, or trying to break through a wall with one’s fingers. It’s like punching someone in the fist with one’s face, or pulling a bus up a hill. This is modern day communication. Trying to exchange with someone, trying to engage in conversation with someone. Everyone is receiving so many text messages and whatsapp messages and they have facebook and instagram and...
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