Thinking ye’re fuckt but ye’re no. Sex is a help. Cause it means ye’re fucking alive. Know what I’m talking about, like it or no man ye’re alive, ye’re still in the kicking. A fucking hardon man it can get ye out of trouble: ye go, Fuck sake, well well well, here I am. Jesus christ!
Cause without the sex ye wouldnay know it. It’s true but. That was something Sammy noticed a lot. Without the sex ye’re nothing, ye’re just fucking—who knows man just ye’re fuckt, ye hit the bevy; ye do some dope; whatever. Sometimes ye just sit there or ye lie down: ye’re stuck in the depths, ye’re so far gone there’s nothing there at all, just a fucking blank. One long blank. It gets interrupted by wee clear patches. And in these wee clear patches there’s a bit of ye trying to find a way out like ye’re angling for the means to escape, to get yerself on the mend.
There’s another way ye know ye’re on the mend, that’s when ye find yerself humming a tune.