I love iPhone notes.

I get drunk and write myself reminders for the next day. I write shopping lists, grande epiphanies, whimsical and all other kinds of stuff.
I like to ask folks what their oldest “note” is. Its funny because it’s usually not note worthy.
But lo’ and behold! There it is, at the time there was nothing more sensible than writing that down.

Myself, i’m an avid jotter. I do love a quick scribble in the iPhone notes.
My oldest “note” is a poem. It’s pretty crappy, I wrote it when I was lost in Tours a few hours south of Paris. Waiting for my girlfriend at the time to finish teaching her class and come rescue me.

22/1/2012 *1057 days ago. -I realise I’ve had this phone for a while.

Tick:

Tonight I walk,
The path home,
Alone by choice.
Wondering what makes us tick.
Our hearts and brains make us thick.

Hearts tell love untruths,
While brains decipher,
And say in love we find.

I walk alone
Tonight it seems
Alot is on my mind.

Thoughts of love
Thoughts of games
And some a different kind.

Sometimes the walk alone reveals,
quite a different side,
A side that hopes and pines for things.
The likes you’ve never had.
Thoughts, I now clarify
as neither good nor bad.

What does it mean, o’everything.
The feeling in-between.
I just feel raging grey I say.
A caring grey, angry and swirling.
Limitless by void expression.

To compare to others is a pin
needle, among the hay.
I wish I had a smile like you,
‘you know the other day’.

Depression and being depressed
are two very separate things.
One from being alone too long,
the other just a mark.
Marks come in all and every size.
Marks tell us where we’ve been,
and if we’ve been unwise.
Marks for girls and guys alike,
some can be disguised.
Though not as topical for you and me,
it’s certainly on the rise.

The clear sky, the dripping tap,
the fatally awful feeling.
Rest is needed but the stained glass,
though appealing.
Reveals your life is stealing.

Stealing away, from you.