Children

As the wind whistles around the building as a summers day becomes a stormy evening the soundtrack for the day as it tends to always be at the weekend is that of children, playing and laughing, shreeching and skurling (whether the latter is even a word(s) only seems to fit in nicely with my point) I forgot crying as that is the sound that most resonates at this current point in time. I sit, out of the back of the kitchen, on my builders chair, watching the children generally act like children which seems to be for the most part really annoying and obnoxious. There are the little creatures that are supposed to bring such joy and love into our life but all I see is a bastard love child of the devil. My mum was right when she merely went along with my previous conclusion that perhaps I would not make the best father but then most fathers I guess perhaps think that they are not particularly good fathers. Maybe not most but again its a whole world I know nothing about and avoid like the plague, shunning all family gatherings of mine and others, of that world where normal people go and talk about so called normal things all the time constantly telling little Maddie or Jo to shut the fuck up but always in that parental loving kind of way. Working here, well working is is strange and for the best part of it I surround myself with a little serenity, for the other part I have an unrealistic boss with a head that baffles me at times and a presence that scares me and a whole life within a life within a bubble like existence that I always seem to want away from but have no idea where. Mr nobody once more. Perhaps