Bitter Sweet Ghosts of Glasgow

that's another Que for a Beatles song, it's crazy how they say so much for a given life situation, their lyrics are far more beautiful than anything in the Koran, and equals anything exciting in the Bible, where the roots of our programming were live and Raw... in places that make us who we become... Glasgow is one of those places... a craggy old hole, where the Barras smell of Mildew and every tenant block staircase stinks of Urine and the odd opportunist Feces of Drunks on a quiet landing.

Fick me; the Ghosts of Glasgow City return to me from another physical incarnation, the best of my youth was totally wasted there... yes; and I do still Care... but nevertheless... 

Gibson street keeps coming back to me... Curry alley, at the foot of Kelvingrove park, and close to the Museum. The DALI's in that Museum not to mention the delicate pastel Renoir's of Ballerinas, I used to go there every Sunday, first few years... 

having sacrificed any success with personal excess, by mental spiritual and physical break down; the place is so firmly woven in my essence it is hard to shake off sleep or dream off... Glasgow is a Dominion in my personal Holographic Soul. going to the Top of the BOYD ORR Building... Byers rd, and all its delights... hearing ABBA the very first time in summer 76 the Curlers Pub next to the subway.. it was a profound moment with such an HD Memory... 

I was a misfit in world of almost perfect people, I could not compete, so I deleted myself in alcoholic denial, I felt so Inadequate and worthless I couldn't even fake normality, I became distilled in dissolution fragments of a turd trying to be a whole, I lived with a confirmed Pscizophrenic called, Freddy Robbins, He was an ex Lecturer at the RSAMD (Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama) He was my Landlord, not my Bitch! DUH... 

His Wife Was Raped by an opportunist burglar while He was at work, and His Kids were in the next Room a few years before I moved in, that was 1980 fick firk and fuck me, that's a frigging lifetime ago.. BUT.. it drove him slowly insane, to become in need of ECT treatment, which I think mostly Blew his Fucking mind... he would occasionally attack you if you mentioned or even referred to his Daughters... His madness was a result of not being able to express his animal Rage toward His Wifes attacker...

I lived there and in several places, if you want to do a homage of my 9 years there and do a midnight prayer meeting on my behalf... and be close to me in memory.. as if. like a Jack the ripper's hangouts...

1st go to 

29 Dunearn st, off GWR, (Great western Rd) 

8 Huntley Gardens

10 Grovesnor crescent

29 Arlington Rd

6 Crown Gardens

12 Princes Gardens

53 Grovesnor Gdns, That was Freddy's place...

10 Willowbank Crescent


At one point I used to walk the streets all night, the things I found and places stuff was happening, I found a Dead Man, I told you before in a previous blog.. one night I found a canvas bag in a back alley, with a stash wad of cash in it, I left Glasgow the following week.. out of paranoia, back to Mum in Midhurst...with £44,000 in cash, I gave Mum a Grand, and went on holiday to Spain for 2 weeks... yes the very unlikely is terrificly possible if you are in the right place at the ascendant moment of fatality...

Glasgow is a world apart via much Art... with many an unspeakable abuse and perversion up the many tenements... its a heartbreaker of a space where the isolated have no place.

Unfinished but I can't help posting it now... it may get abridged by the next time you glance upon it... the safe and cosy present soon becomes a nightmare of a distant memory, its the past that finally kills you... the emotions of it's recall are to much to contain in an old body... so you burst and die like a Party Balloon... Pop your instant trash now it's official@ Deaths Portal: 

Still feeling Cosy?