In the Intensive Psychiatric Care Unit, patients are taking part in keep-fit, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. I'm jogging on the spot, arms outstretched, then jumping like a demented jack-in-the-box. a memory stirs. THIS REMINDS ME OF POGOING.
Shutting my eyes I remember bouncing up and down to the punk bands in Clouds. I sense the flat-line of my depression starting to pulse again. I tighten my fists, feeling my heartbeat, so insistent. I imagine this as the rhythm to so many songs I’ve long-forgotten about but want to listen to. I’m still that naïve, enthusiastic, passionate punk. A disciple of Iggy Pop. Lusting for life.