Fool’s Paradise


It’s terrible when you have to be scraping away for all you’re worth at the bottom of the old barrel isn’t it? That’s what I’m doing – scraping the bottom of the barrel. Scraping away like a good ‘un at the bottom of the old broken barrel. Scraping it good. Giving it a good old scrape there – trying as hard as I can to come up with something new. It’s fine when you’re pulling out big juicy chunks of the good stuff of course. Everyone likes that. Everyone’s your friend then. It’s fine when all you have to do is put your hand in the barrel and straightaway you come out with a hunk of prime meat. Prime chunks of pure beef. Dripping with thick rich gravy. You’re riding the gravy train then! Oh boy aren’t you just. You’re covered in glory. You’re it. You’re the bee’s knees. You’re the flavour of the month. You’re like a pig in clover. Whatever that means. You’re like little Jack whats-is-name sitting in the corner and pulling out the plums. The big fat juicy plums. You’re pulling out the good stuff every time – the stuff everyone wants. Doesn’t that feel good huh? You bet it does. You don’t need to tell me…


But what I’m trying to say is don’t fool yourself. Before you know what’s happening you’ll be sitting there like me scraping around for all you’re worth and coming up with nothing. Because there’s nothing there. Because the barrel’s been scraped dry. You’ll be scraping and scraping and all you’ll be getting is a bit of gunk from the corners. A bit of something or other that really isn’t worth all the effort you’re going to. The effort of all that scraping. It’s not worth it because it’s just more of the same and its gone stale at this stage. Stale and mouldy. All the fizz has gone out of it and it’s like the dregs at the bottom of a can of cheap discount-store lager from yesterday’s party with fag ends in it. Nothing to get excited about there, right? All the good’s gone out of it and you’re left sitting there like some kind of a sad old has-been raking over the dead embers of a fire that’s gone out long time ago. You’re left trading on past glories but nobody cares…


That’s all I have to say. Don’t fool yourselves. Yeah, yeah, yeah, everything seems so great at the time. You’re on the bloody gravy train and everything’s marvellous. Life’s a party and you’ve got plenty of friends. Blah, blah, blah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you’re only fooling yourself. You’re an idiot who doesn’t know he’s an idiot yet. You’re just waiting to find out but you don’t realize it. You’re a fool in a fool’s paradise. You wouldn’t feel so good would you if you knew that the honeymoon phase is soon to be over and that you’re going to be left sitting there like me, scraping away at the barrel for all you’re worth. In denial. Scraping away like a mad bastard and getting nothing for it. Trying to make out to yourself that it’s still the good stuff. Trying to come up with something new, something different, when the truth is that there’s nothing there…





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