The Life And Times.

Wednesday, 16 July 2014

The Facebook Saga.

I have at last succumbed to the lure of a Facebook page for my wittering, the fact that my poor friends will now be bombarded with sonnets and my latest novels is I am sure filling them all with a sense of longing as I write... Well, it would be nice to think so at least, but my guess is they are looking into their laps and shaking their heads thinking "what is he up to now?"
You could forgive them for that thought, after all there are few careers left for me to try and the pool is getting smaller! The truth of the matter is that writing has always been a part of my make-up, I failed miserably at school because all i wanted to do was write, i had no passion for anything else, but when i left school at 15 i had to work and earn a wage, somehow my life just went on from there.
I will let you all into a little secret that I have kept for a long time, no, it's not that I am gay or that the children look a lot like our Postman, (they don't do they?). The fact is if you have an ability to write it is a gift, but it can also be a curse. To be able to write you have to be open and allow yourself to get involved with the subject matter, this in turn can leave your feelings and thoughts on a knife edge. Don't think for one minute that you can control them with a stiff Scotch or a good talking to, if you write with passion then it will haunt you.
If I was asked if i would prefer to be "normal" rather than be faced with this constant inner turmoil then the answer would be "yes". But that is not the case and if you cannot harness a gift then you must embrace it. I have found of late that the passion that is so entrenched in the written word can spill over into real life and for those not accustomed to it then it can be frightening and constrictive even overwhelming. I have found this recently to my cost, I will be haunted by it forever but it is my destiny and mine alone and I am who I am.

So, in the absence of a cure for my disease I will have to take that which would destroy me and make it work for me. Writing is a selfish lonely passion, it is a cruel mistress and takes no prisoners but when it is harnessed it is a thrill like no other, so don't feel sorry for this tortured mind, it will always do what it is doing now, evaluating, asking and talking....the last bit way way too much but I mean nothing by it. They are usually my thoughts out loud without any form of censorship. Years ago it was called wearing your heart on your sleeve.    Dave James Facebook

Tuesday, 15 July 2014

Beauty and the Beast.

Within your beauty and your curves there lies a blackened heart,
You spellbind with your charm and looks, yet heartache lies therein.
The flowing valleys, strongest rivers, mark out your domain,
But Shropshire hills all carry tales, so etched on aged and dying.
For beauty comes at such a price, once paid by those who lived,
Upon her bounteous splendour there and she would not forgive.
The quarries yielded precious ore, her furnaces a Nation.
But in her bowels good men perished her heart too, made of stone.
So cast an eye about her, aye, her wonderment and splendour,
For she was mistress harsh and vile to those that dare torment her.

Sunday, 13 July 2014

A slice at life

There is a green hill far away of that we can be sure,
The past will be what others see just that and nothing more,
Our chance to shine is but a spark that brightly burns then fades,
Our journey on which we embark is mapped to it we're slaves.

Those that choose to cheat the fight are cut down where they stand,
They burn too bright and peak too soon they both go hand in hand,
The circle starts and ends with us the never ending ride,
The depths of fear and joy within all sampled once inside.
 
So if you take it personally then you are bound to fail,
For life itself takes prisoners few the and therin lies a tale,
Strike out hard and plan your moves watch others and choose well,
For life though like the heavens wide beneath is only hell.

One Day.

She is working but the stare is vacant
Those around her just a blur
People talking they're just statements
Of a world that crushes her

Stands to chat but she's not hearing
Lost in time but no-one see's
She would explain but who'd be caring
For that girl with shattered dreams

Hearts been broken spirits torn
The heart still strong but battle worn
She pulls through another day
It doesnt have to be this way

There is hope from one lone stranger
One who sees the good to come
She stays strong from constant danger
Does the work that's to be done

One day soon her Prince will enter
Take away those tears that bind
And all the heartache they all sent her
Will be left so far behind x. 



 

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

What retailers really want to say :-)

The customer is always right
Or so the saying goes
But here is just a little list
The other side it shows,

"It was broken when I bought it"
Buy a pair of specs
"It's cheaper on the internet"
Well go see Google next
"Can you do it cheap for cash?"
Are you from Revenue?
"This cream has caused a nasty rash"
It would it's Super Glue.

"Can I pay in small installments"
Sure I'm made of money
"Do you have any more in stock?"
You really are quite funny !!!
"My dad says that is way too dear"
In that case he can do it
"You will be hearing from my brief"
If you can't haggle sue it
"Has this done a lot of miles?"
A lot less in reverse...
"What warranty is there for me?"

"I think my daddy knows your boss"
He drinks in gay bars too?
"Will you take a cheque from me?"
I love the jokes you do
"American Express Ok?"
You must be bloody joking
"I think this smells of  creme de menthe"
Fuck I think I'm choking
"Tell me are you open Sundays?"
Sure who needs a life?
"Any extras with this purchase?"
Just wait I'll get the wife
"Have you this in any colour?"
It would still look shitty
"I almost tripped on your display!"
You didnt? more's the pity.












Saturday, 5 July 2014

Were it that.

Were it that the sky was always clear
That hunters never caught the grazing deer
The rain would only fall when safe indoors
That man would live in peace and not in wars

Were it that our love came guaranteed
And tears just fell with joy and not in need
That life was lived in full with no regret
And all that we deserve so shall we get

Were it that the clocks could be unwound
Or those who've lost their way be safely found
That crops could grow without the fear of weather
And burdens on our souls were but a feather

If all of these and more made up our lives
No guns no tanks no thugs all bearing knives
The poet surely never would exist
For once his work would not be sorely missed.




Unedited chapter four Caradoc finished.



Chapter Four: The Hour Maketh the Man
It took several days for Tomas to catch up with some sleep and attain at least a little bit of colour in his scrawny pale cheeks, during that time Sam carried on at the quarry working more and more hours while Jake did his level best to avoid school by dragging his feet with the farm chores and found great entertainment was to be had with his new friend Tomas. Eileen had kept an eye on the runaway youth but was touched by how he and Jake had bonded, Tomas was always kept busy helping Jake feed stock and tend the other farm needs and had fitted in very well, though she was all too aware that this was just temporary as Tomas would have to go back to the base and face the consequences for running off, but for now however he was a very handy addition to Pole Farm.
Jake showed Tomas many of his tricks and dodges over the next few weeks, he showed him his favourite rope swing across the fast flowing brook and how to catch sheep without being dragged for yards across a field, Tomas was intrigued by the fact he could stand next to a ewe with just the slightest hold just under the front of her rear leg and the sheep would stand there and not move, it was commonly known on The Hill as grabbing a ewe “under the hock”, it is still very widely practiced nowadays and is remarkably effective, Tomas enjoyed his days with Jake and he caught on quickly for a lad who was brought up in such a large city in Poland.  Just as Jake had mentioned the first time he had met Tomas, the lad was becoming an asset to the farm while Sam worked long hours in the quarry, Tomas helped with many chores for his bed and food, he was always very polite. Eileen sat Tomas down one afternoon and brought up the subject of The Camp and going back to face the music, she noticed a fear in the lads eyes with mention of the camp that she hadn’t seen since the first day they had found him, clearly there was something or someone that had frightened the lad and it was etched on his face. “Never mind Tomas we will speak again, you go find Jake and help him bring the cattle in there’s a good lad”. But Eileen knew there would come a day when the truth would have to be faced and the lad would be forced to return, but for now at least the lad was being fed and sheltered, a far better situation for all concerned and in any case they needed his help.
Jake was walking across the top fields that were so unusually flat for such a hilly area when Tomas caught up with him, Jake was leading the old mare by the reins and following the sheep tracks towards the old barn. In the distance there was a haze of smoke and dust that stood out on the horizon, Tomas pointed to it “What is that?” the youngster enquired “That’s where dad is Tomas, that’s the quarry, it’s a horrible place, noisy and dusty, it frightens me too” “It frightens you? Why?” Tomas asked looking concerned for his friend, “Lots of men get hurt up there and I worry about my dad, its long hours and there is very little time to rest” “can we go see?” Tomas asked, “If dad catches me up there Tomas I will get my backside tanned” “tanned?” said Tomas looking a little puzzled and pointed skywards to the sun, “No you daft beggar, tanned! Smacked!  You know!” and with that Jake turned his hips sideways on and pretended to smack himself on the backside, “Oh I see” said Tomas “tanned!” they both chuckled, “we had better not go up there Tomas it’s a bad place for youngsters to be, come on let’s get back into the yard at home and see if mum wants owt from the orchards”
With that the two jumped on the old mares back with no saddle on and went hell for leather back down towards the farm, as they sped across the fern covered headlands they were stopped by a man with a blackened face, he had been kneeling down and looking at the hoof of the horse he had been riding, as they pulled up the man scowled “She is lame lads, can one of you give me a lift back to the quarry with this fresh milk for the rest of the lads?” “My dad says I am not allowed up at the quarry mister” Jake replied immediately, “Aye like as not you are a bit young lad your dad is right, but your brother here can go I am sure?” “He is not…” Tomas poked Jake in the side before he had chance to say anymore, “OK I will take you not a problem” Tomas tried hard to talk without his accent, but the man was more interested in getting the milk off the saddle of his lame horse than how Tomas spoke. “Take my horse back to the blacksmith at Hopton for me young man and tell them it’s for The Alexander Mine Co, we need her back as soon as possible, here is a penny for your troubles,” Jakes eyes lit up, he knew a penny meant toffees! “OK I will see you later at the farmhouse Tomas” said Jake and with that he was off like a shot.
Tomas helped the miner up on to the back of the old mare and the two made their way up on to the quarry site, Tomas could see what his friend Jake had meant by frightening, the dust and the noise were so much out of touch with all the raw beauty that surrounded the site, it was almost surreal. “Drop me here lad I can walk the rest of the way”, with that Tomas stopped and helped the man down with his precious milk cargo. As Tomas was about to turn and go a huge rattle accompanied by a massive cloud of dust heralded the appearance of Sam’s team of horses as they strained at the full load of Dhustone Ore they were pulling out of the quarry pit, Tomas just sat there for a moment and watched as Sam handled the horses to perfection, pushing them at just the right speed so as not to overtax them on the steep climb or make them lose their grip, as they reached the level of the tipping point Sam looked across at the man carrying the milk and waived, he then looked to his right and saw Tomas sat on the old mare looking straight at him, “What the bloody hell” Sam mumbled to himself and with that shouted out “Whoa Whoa” to the team of horses he had just brought up the hill, he put the brakes on the outfit and jumped down and strode straight up to Tomas, “What the bloody hell do you think you are doing lad?” Sam shouted at the youngster who immediately looked scared to death, “Hold on Sam, that lad just brought us the milk from the village, my horse went lame and your boy and his brother helped me out” “Brother?” Sam looked momentarily confused, “Yes my brother Jake, father” Tomas replied almost immediately, “Oh, right, yes well then OK in that case lad stop sitting about and go and help your brother with the feeding” Sam had caught up with what was being said, he winked at Tomas and Tomas turned the Mare towards Pole Farm, but just at that moment there was a huge bang as the brake handle that Sam had pulled broke away from its mountings, it started the trucks moving slowly backwards, pulling the valuable team of horses with it, Sam ran as fast as his legs could carry him and grabbed a steel spike from by the dinner hut, he held the spike above his shoulder like a javelin and threw it at the rear wheel of the last truck in the row, it went through the wheel and went round until it hit the body of the truck and slammed against it locking the wheels up as it did, Sam was barely a few feet away as the whole lot came to a shuddering halt with the horses screaming and jumping around for all they were worth as they were being pulled backwards down the slope.
 Sam strode over to the truck and put the emergency brakes on, but just as he secured the line of trucks the spike snapped in two and the one half of the spike went off like a bullet and embedded itself deep into Sam’s shoulder knocking him to the ground and on to the rail track the trucks were sat on, this set the horses off again and they pulled and pushed violently as slowly the emergency brake began to fail, Sam was reeling in agony on the tracks, Tomas shouted but it was too little too late, Sam lay there dazed for a few moments and suddenly felt a warm liquid dripping down his arm, he looked and it was his own blood, Sam tried to stand up but couldn’t because of the spike, “Sam!” Tomas shouted and jumped from the old mare and raced to calm the team of horses down just as the last truck was inches from where Sam lay, Tomas went to the lead horses and pulled on their reins with all his might and they pulled the trucks screeching further up the track and away from Sam, then Tomas ran to his barely conscious friend, “Go get the doc lad” Sam gasped “He is next to the camp in Ditton, please lad, go now you are my only hope” Tomas ripped his shirt off and tore it into thin shreds, he bandaged the wounded Sam up as best he could before leaping on to the old mare. Tomas rode like he had never done before, he jumped over hedgerows and gates, the old mare seemed to know the urgency, they galloped across the open fields and down into Ditton Priors, past the camp where he was still a wanted man and straight to the Doctors doorstep, “Doctor!” shouted Tomas as he jumped from the mare before she had stopped running “Doctor!” “Steady boy, steady what on earth is the matter?” Doctor Egan was stood in his doorway wearing just a shirt and bracers with his sleeves rolled up, “It Sam, he been stabbed by spike up in quarry, please you come quick, is bleeding!” “Well why didn’t you just say that lad!” the Doctor shouted as he ran inside to get his bag, he grabbed his black stallion by the reins from the stable opposite his large garden and jumped up on the huge horse as he shouted at Tomas to lead the way, the two set off at break neck speed.
By the time the two reached Sam he was out for the count, none of the other quarrymen had spotted him lying there because of the dust, Doctor Egan tended the stab wound, Sam being Sam he had pulled the huge metal spike out of his shoulder, “Listen boy I am going to need your help to save this man, help me put him on his side so that I can stitch his wound through his back” with that Tomas and the Doctor turned the big man on his side and he let out an almighty groan as the pain had started to become all too much even for such a big man as Sam, the boy held his friend and stopped him from rolling over as the Doctor sewed Sam’s wound up firstly on his back and then his front, Tomas winced as the Doctor poured neat Iodine straight into the fresh open wound and Sam’s cry could be heard throughout the quarry. The Doctor bandaged Sam’s chest up and lay him back down and gave the big man some Morphine as Tomas went over to find some transport in the shape of a horse drawn cart for the journey to Bridgnorth Infirmary, before long Sam was surrounded by willing helpers and within minutes he was on his way back down the valley to the hospital.

It was a tense few days before Sam was able to be propped up in his hospital bed, as the big man had lost a lot of blood and was lucky to have survived. When he did finally come around he asked for Eileen and Jacob, they were of course only a heartbeat away in the next room, he also asked for Tomas, but to no avail, Tomas had been sent back to the barracks at Ditton from whence he absconded and thus was facing a court martial for desertion. 
Sam was unaware of this and it was probably a good thing at the time, he needed rest to get his strength back, his body had been in shock when he arrived a few days before and he was lucky to be alive. Jacob stood in front of his dad and smiled, “Hurry up Dad will ya? we haven’t shorn a single sheep and the thistles are growing like mad!” “You cheeky little tike” Sam smiled, if that’s the case then you will have to get on with it” he quipped back and they both laughed, Eileen was not quite so submissive or happy however, “I told you about that damned quarry Sam Reynolds, but would you listen? Oh no you just charge off and very near get yourself …..” and with that Eileen burst into tears and put her head in her hands while she sat quietly on the bed, the two boys looked at each other not quite sure what to make of the usual rock solid Eileen starting to lose it. Sam looked at Jacob and made with his eyes that perhaps he should go into the other room for a while, so that he and mum could have a chat, with that Jacob was off, not needing to be told twice as Eileen continued to sob, “Look here love, you know we need that job and the money that goes with it, we can’t say no, it is what it is, now dry your eyes and go and put your face right woman you will get my bloody blankets all wet!”  Eileen was not finished however, she looked at Sam through tear stained eyes, her make up running down he cheeks and her face red and blotchy, “I told you Sam because we are frightened of losing you and look what happened! We don’t need the money we can tighten our belts in other areas you don’t need to kill yourself to provide food on the table” “Aye maybe you are right lass but we need more than food, we need rent and clothes for the youngster, he has nowt that lad and asks for even less, it’s about time we did a bit more for the boy” Eileen slowed her sobbing, she was facing her hands that were leaning in front of her on the bed, they were made up in two fists and she held the tissue in them twisting it between the two, slowly backwards and forwards, she mumbled to Sam as she kept looking down, Sam asked “What did you say woman?” “I said Sam Reynolds, Jacob is going to have a baby brother or sister” Sam ‘s jaw dropped, for the first time that day he was speechless, he was trying to speak but nothing came out, then all of a sudden he shouted at the top of his voice “Yeeeeehaaaaa! Oh my life, the woman has only gone and got herself pregnant again! Yes!” as he jumped about in his upright position he suddenly realised he was still in a lot of pain and started groaning “Ooohh Ooohh Ow” “Sam!” Eileen shouted scornfully, her old stern face coming back in a heartbeat, “get back into that bed and stop behaving like some school child please!” Sam did as he was told but he had a smile bigger than the quarry hole he had just been pulled out of.
It was a full four weeks before Sam was allowed home and then only to do light duties, Jacob was doing the best he could but was finding the work a struggle. Late one afternoon Sam was sat in the small yard at the back of the house, it had been a beautiful hot but humid summers day, Sam was almost asleep but was wakened by a huge clap of thunder, the skies over Ludlow at the bottom of the valley looked very ominous and Sam moved slowly to go inside, he heard the dogs barking just as he got to the door and turned to look around, the cattle had gotten away from Jacob and the dogs were struggling to get them back from the watering hole they had been taken to, the dogs were barking so loud it was frightening the cattle and they were running in every direction, Sam muttered under his breath as he watched “Go on lad, get around them, go on, send the dogs to the right, come on lad, wave your arms you can stop them” but just as Jacob seemed to be getting control again there was a huge flash of lightening followed by a roar of thunder and the scared animals took a run for it, the larger of the two cows ran straight for Jacob and he froze to the spot, Sam shouted from the distance “Move lad, quick! move she will kill you ya daft bugger, move lad!” But Jacob was frozen and the cow bowled the lad clean off his feet and into the thick muddy water of the watering hole. Sam was off like a shot, injury or no injury, his boy lay lifeless face down in the mud, the dogs were chasing the cattle out of control all around the field, “Jacob! Jacob” Sam howled at the top of his voice, he ran as fast as his injuries would dare let him and perhaps more as adrenalin filled his every moving fibre, “Jacob! Come on lad get up he was shouting as he ran to the boy but Jacob lay still, not moving an inch.
Sam finally reached his boy and sank to his knees in the mud beside him, almost too scared to pull the boy out of the mud and what he might see but he summoned the courage and turned the lad over, he brushed the hair off the boys forehead and cradled the youngster, “Jake, Jake boy come on speak to me, Jake, please boy come on speak to me!” but there was no reply, Jake was limp and lifeless in his father’s arms, the rain had started to fall as only it could when there is a thunderstorm overhead, but Sam didn’t even notice the rain or the thunder for that matter, he slowly lifted the youngster out of the mud, summoning all his wounded body could give and cradled him in his arms as he started the long walk back to the farm house, the rain was so heavy now that Sam could barely see to walk, his shirt was blood soaked from his old wounds opening up but he didn’t care, his stamina kept him upright and walking towards home with his son in his arms and nothing on this earth could have stopped that man.
Eileen had been out feeding the chickens in the main fold yard while all this had been going on, she had put the chickens in as soon as she heard the thunder and had just managed to run inside before the rain started, she had been looking to see where Sam had gone when she looked out of the bedroom window to see stray cattle and the dogs running around all over the place, “what the…” she said to herself as she dashed outside and shut the fold yard gate and brought the dogs inside, at least the cattle were safe for now but she couldn’t understand where the two boys were, she opened the back door and walked on to the small yard where Sam had been sat, his chair was empty and his glass of water sat on the table overflowing now with rainwater. She tucked the chair in behind the small table and glanced to her left into the valley below, there was a huge flash of lightening as she did and she strained her eyes, for the life of her she thought she saw a man walking up the fields, she went in and got a coat and ran to the gate at the bottom of the paddock, she couldn’t see a thing but just then more lightening lit the fields up and she gasped in horror as she saw the man stumbling, carrying something in his arms he was lurching forward, speeding up and slowing down with every step he took, Eileen ran towards him and as she drew closer she could see it was Sam, but couldn’t make out what he was carrying, then to her horror she realised it was her boy, she screamed “Jacob, Sam!” “It’s alright woman I have got him, now give me your shoulder and let’s get him back to the house”
The two burst through the doors and finally got the still lifeless boy into the kitchen where they pulled his sodden clothes off and wrapped him in warm blankets by the fire, the boy was breathing but had a nasty bump the size of a golf ball on his head, as Eileen tended the boy she glimpsed at Sam who was close to tears and realised he was bleeding from his wounds, “Sam! Go and get out of those soaking wet clothes I will sort Jacob… do as you are told you will be ill again!” Sam was not for going but Eileen shouted at him to go, he knew the boy was in good hands so he reluctantly conceded.
Eileen made the boy as comfortable as she could then put on her shawl and headed down the driveway, the summer thunder storm had gone and she needed to get Doctor Egan out as soon as possible. Sam came back downstairs and sat by Jacob, he brushed the lads hair back and spoke softly to him, “I know I have been a bit harsh on you son, it’s been tough for all of us, you do so much work around here and nobody scarcely remembers that you are only a nipper yourself, I reckon it’s about time we let you be a boy for a while instead of all this work all the time, it’s my fault lad, I thought the quarry work would be perfect but I asked way too much of you” Sam screwed his face up and his big old head dropped, tears never come easy in this part of the world but this was the big man’s realisation that he had put too much on the young boys shoulders, his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach and his big calloused quarry hands were clenched as teardrops dropped one by one on to them, slowly down his fingers and on to the floor, he stayed there sat by his boy and sobbed, not a gentle sob but a howl that can only come from the heart of a big man gravelly wounded, his son was everything to him and now because of his own selfishness to earn money he had risked the boy’s life too, it was a hard realisation for Sam and it cut deep.
“Mum won’t be happy if she sees thee crying like a baby Dad”
Sam looked up, Jacob was looking straight at him from under the massive blankets Eileen had wrapped him in, “Jake boy!” Sam shrieked and hugged his son so hard it fair knocked him clean out again! “Alright Dad, you are squeezing the breath out of me!”  “Sorry son, how do you feel?” Sam asked excitedly, “A bit sore to be honest dad I think my leg hurts the most” Sam unravelled the lad from the blankets and lifted the base of the one by Jacobs feet, his leg was clearly broken but Sam didn’t want to scare the lad, “Ooohh that’s a bruise and a half son, don’t worry Doc Egan is on his way he will soon sort that”  “I hope so dad ‘cos it hurts quite a bit” “you just lie still son and don’t worry yourself, do you want owt to drink?” “Some water would be nice dad but don’t worry I will get it” Sam held the boy down, “You sit there fellow me lad, I will sort you out, just you lie back there and don’t move” Jake didn’t have the energy to argue so he lay his head back down, “Tell me Jake do you remember what happened back there?” “Aye Dad the lightning spooked the cattle and I got hit by one of the old cows” “Did you not hear me shouting to get out of the way though boy?” “Oh aye Dad I did” “Well in that case son why didn’t you move?” “I couldn’t dad, me feet were stuck in the mud!” With that the two burst out laughing, Sam gave the boy his glass of water and ruffled his hair again as he drank heartily, it was just then that a still pale and ashen faced Eileen walked through the door with Dr. Egan, “Oh… an emergency eh Mrs Reynolds? Life and death it is you said…you can’t finish your dinner you said…” Eileen stood with her mouth open exasperated, as the two boys sat by the hearth beaming up at her, “well as I am here Eileen I may as well take a look at the young tike, I trust you have plenty of tea and cakes in the house?” “Err yes Doctor Egan, sorry Doctor Egan, I swear the boy was out for the count I honestly do!” The Doctor bent down to look at Jacob and winked his eye at the men who both smiled, but Sam caught the Doctors eye and moved his eyes towards the blanket covering Jacobs broken leg, “It’s a fair bruise the lad has Doc” Sam said softly, the Doc lifted the blanket and looked back at Sam, “Aye that it is, I will have some special ointment for that in a special bandage, you just lay back young man we will soon have you sorted”

Tuesday, 1 July 2014

Me so far, progress report.

Just imagine for a moment that you were born to a lower class family (in monetary terms) and destined to work on farms or drive trucks all your life. In itself, and this being the UK that doesn't seem the worst fate in the world. But, and there is a but as you can well imagine, just think what that would be like if you were actually in possession of a mind that is creative, thirsty for knowledge and not willing to settle for what you have been given in life and beats you up on every corner?
Welcome to all that is David James. If you wish to know me then read on, if i am boring you then please don't, either way one of us will lose out because that is what the game of life entails. I have driven trucks, tractors, excavators, motorcycles, I have built them, painted them, mended them and sold them, I have sold mowing equipment worldwide i have been a John Deere dealer, a used Audi dealer, a 4x4 dealer and a motorcycle dealer, I have owned a tyre business a haulage business, a groundcare business and lately I have begun to write, I have written poetry for memorial services all round the world, a poem for my great hero Colin McCrae that went viral. two books and a novelette and am currently penning my favourite book to date called Caradoc that will be out in the Autumn.

This is all well and good I hear my audience cry, but where are you going with all this?

Well there-in lies a tale. Here is the disappointing bit to a man who oozes confidence and apparently takes life by the throat and squeezes it dry. He is anything but confident, he is anything but Mr Cool. This man is his own worst critic. Nothing is ever good enough, he batters himself with thoughts and questions every moment of every day, he cant settle and he cant live, more importantly he is slowly, piece by piece destroying himself.
Sounds very dramatic. It should, because it is a snapshot of your author. I don't want doctors and pills, I don't want the comforting arm that says everything will be OK, I don't want sympathy most of all, I just want one person that understands who I am, what my exceptional needs are and just what they are getting when they approach me or make my acquaintance. That will never happen. This week I have realised this and it frightened me, but it also raised questions as to why I need to be put in a certain box and then get a tick by it.

The fact is, I don't need a tick or a box. I have been given my wonderful mind full of thoughts and inspiration as a gift. That gift has been a burden, a crown of thorns, a curse. That is until the last few weeks.  I have realised that I am special, I have a mind that has seen so much and dealt with every emotion, it has laughed and cried, it has fought and lost and fought and won, it has reinvented my life a number of times and inspired me through experiences others from my background could only dare dream of.

So why now do i need to own up?

Well, there is the devil, always in the detail. You are only as good as the man you portray and of late I have not even been close to the real me, let alone the mindful me, I have dithered, I have worried, I have stressed and I have made myself ill and worse I have made those around me feel confused and resentful. It is not a made up disease and it is not imagination, it is nothing that simple, if you possess such a mind as I there is never a simple answer, it has to be sought, I am by divine right a complicated creature who is burdened with thoughts that my background has ill-trained me to deal with, in short I should not exist.
There remains one thing for me to do and that is to own up to those that know me and read my wittering, yes I am complicated, yes it sometimes confuses and frightens me and yes i make mistakes that are off the map, but am I a bad person for all that?  Bet your damned life I am not. If I say I love you i damned well mean it, if i say i don't like you then yes you guessed it. If i ask of you then its because i need help desperately and if you ask me for help it will always be steadfast and guaranteed. In short my mind is too honest to bother with lies, too busy to suffer fools and far too soft for its own good, it sees the best in everything and everyone and I have to accept that also leaves me very vulnerable.
So there you have it, David James, the open book, the not so cool rock steady guy but also the resourceful thinking man with a wealth of life experiences, I am now more comfortable in my own skin having divulged my shortcomings to all those around me, I am far from perfect its true but I am also a million miles from someone who needs to be feared, have I made it in life? Well that is down to how you perceive making it, if you want the answer so far then it is "I have lived".

That is the best I could have ever hoped for.