Attention.

 How the f**k am I supposed to concentrate? The radio is on in the background, the coffee machine -although smelling good- is making this sort of gurgling sound and I have wet hair from in the shower and some droplets are running down my neck. 

‘Silence is golden’ who sung that song way back in the 70’s? Or was it the 60’s? Who knows, everything fades and gets muddled, how do we know any of our memories are trustworthy. 

I struggle on, trying to make meaning where there isn’t any, digging into my soul to mine the last bit of creativity and at the same time thinking ‘what if I am just not creative?’ I read all these books and listen to all these tutorials saying ‘we are human therefore we are creative’, but what if we aren’t? What if evolution, and especially the tech revolution has taken away some or all of our creativity? What if ,what if. 

We often ask the question ‘does anyone still read books?’ The question in the future might be ‘does anybody write books any more?’ 

I’m 67 years old, that is the ass end of life, I could still drag it out another 20 or so years, but the best years are behind me ( damn I must have missed them). So why am I still struggling, struggling to get recognised, to be creative, to write?(that’s a new one). Why, Why am I stuck with this feeling of urgency in everything I do? 67 years old and still trying to work out who I am. I’m always reading of artists who have found their ‘unique voice’ their ‘inner selves’ their ‘authenticity’ - well I’m 67, I have been doing Comedy professionally for over 20 years and I still don’t get the feeling that I have ‘found’ my inner self. I have moments when I get the feeling that I am at peace with myself, but after a couple of minutes that blows over. 

‘My g g g generation’ sung The Who, my generation, being called ‘boomers’ now by all the young screen junkies- the meme following least unique of all generations. My generation, free of all the acronym illnesses, never heard of ADD, ADHD even nut allergies, if they exist now then they must have existed back when we were young, but nobody thought of it, nobody gave a shit about  young people back then… ‘Hey did you hear about John? He ate a few nuts and dropped dead, how fucking weird is that, well there was probably something wrong with him, poor fucker, anyway what time is top of the pops on the telly’. 

So maybe I have an acronym-illness, maybe I wasn’t just a lazy ‘know nothing knob end’ at school, maybe I had ADD or ADHD ? … and so another generation goes to waste, and here I am 67 years old and still trying to work out who I am, what I’m here for and what my creative side is. I’ll have some of that coffee now and get on with it, after cleaning up the garage.