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Our journey is limited. Is it preordained? Tracks Disappearing - A Video



Hey,

How's your week been? 


Happy Pride Month!   (Maybe one of these days, I'll out myself and join the Parade.)

It's also Men's Mental Health Month. Did not know that. 
(Personally, I think a month to any group is pushing the friendship a little. Take a week and make the most of it. Less chances of clashing.)

I've got a new video for you. It's called...

Tracks Disappearing 


Our journey is limited. Is it preordained? 

Can there be another way?

This new video is less than 90 secs. Give it a whirl and let me know your thoughts. 






Watch HERE











If interested, my mental health has declined in the past 10 days, but I'm still doing better than I was. I still have faith. Just have to hang on and keep working at it. It's so hard to not trust your own thoughts and feelings. But it's what I have to do. I can't go back to how I was.

I watched a fascinating little documentary last night about a 60's folk/blues/country singer, Karen Dalton. Nick Cave speaks highly of her. Like many creatives, she could create art from life but struggled to live in it. I can always relate to people like that. The sensitive ones seem to struggle the most. Never achieved fame, though she could have. She didn't want it. Only released two albums. She died in poverty in 1993 aged 55. A very unique voice. Look her up on YouTube. 

Here's one for you.






More Videos












Looking upwards! Mental Health Month - Part 2 of 2

 
Working towards wellness

The previous post spoke of my misery over the past year, so this will be much more positive.


Here is the second poem that I mentioned in the previous post. It was going to be another  miserable one from earlier this year but I changed it. No one wants to read of another's misery. Besides, it's much more upbeat! And I don't want to appear that I've been wallowing in it. I've been fighting hard the entire time. As my partner can testify. I want to be better! And finally, I am feeling better, albeit a long way to go. With a little helping hand, you might say. This recent poem explains all.


There's a short video below that and also something positive to end on!



Looking to a better future


Above the Abyss

 

I no longer want to die

I’ve scrambled

To be my own saviour

No self-help book or video or psych

Can do the work

That only I can do

Must do.

 

However,

I did receive a helping hand

Of sorts

From the Great Beyond

If one believes in such things

Which I don’t

And yet,

I cannot deny

That through my grandmother’s death

It forced me into a position

Of having to travel interstate

And face my difficulties

I believed impassable.

 

To rephrase

In her death

She helped me to live.

 

I did five days of travel

With the support of Taylah

And did it well

Including reading a poem I wrote

(That alone surprised me)

At her graveside service

And felt good for the

Great bulk of that trip.

 

I returned to Sydney

As did the anxiety

Which caused me to fall

Into a depressive hole

Nothing like having experienced freedom

And joy

After months of intense suffering

Only to be re-incarcerated

A form of twisted torture.

 

Since then

I’ve had the odd better day

And implemented positivity

Faked,

Over and over

Until it began to make inroads.

 

Now I’ve had a string of good days

Again, with the enforced mindset

Becoming my own Life Coach

And while there are setback days

I do believe I’m slowly emerging

Back into life

Out of the cell

Of my own design.

 

At least

I want to live

That is, its own

Sign of success.

 


 

5/5/25  11.45 pm

(My nephew’s birthday).

 


The last time I saw my grandmother, in Sept, 2023


The poem I read at my grandmother's service, Our Beloved Pioneer, appeared in a country publication too, submitted by my grandmother's son, my father.




Perhaps I'll share the full poem sometimes, if anyone is interested


Here's a short video I made about depression. Melancholy has followed me about forever and a day too but I'm also quite upbeat. An introvert and extrovert. Those who know can testify to the upbeat me. Most have not seen the other. I've learnt over the years to hide it well. Thus the nature of the mental tussle. It's an battle oft done silently. 


In the Wallows






Way back in 1992, I made a short film about a man who loses control of his mind after a series of life blows. Knowing my own mental state at times, it wasn't a huge stretch. 






Enough misery now! Please feel free to share your story, feelings or even the post itself. It's good to talk about these things. Especially when I'm doing better. I think when people are really suffering, they're quiet. That's when others should become worried. I know I've come close to suicide many times in the past year. It scares me now when I think back to how viable an option it seemed. 

I have a ways to go but signs recently are good. Not great but trending upwards. Day at a time. Keeping calm and staying positive are my weapons. (Just don't tell a depressed person to be positive. They're too far gone. It's near impossible). 

I only became that depressed because the anxiety was so severe it made my life unbearable. It was only through some respite via cold showers, swimming and Valium plus distractions like faking it, playing music, dancing, talking to myself and the support of my girlfriend that I was able to rise enough before I could even entertain the idea of being positive. Without some daily relief, I would have taken my life. I fantasised about it. I planned it. At one point I had razor blades hidden throughout the house. It seemed the only way out. 

Enough.


Peace

Anthony


Ps I'm thinking of releasing a novel. Not sure which one yet. I've got a few. Either Ode to Dead Young Friends, based on four young people I knew who all died young or True Love Kills, also based on a true story but with a lot more fictional aspects about a teenage girl whose new school friends are involved in a terrible incident in which someone dies. 

What do you think? The anxiety doesn't want me to do anything as it's all 'dangerous' but I have to keep pushing myself. This will be quite a scary exercise, unlike when I released books in the past when it was exciting. Still, I feel the work is good and should be out there. I think. 

Let me know your thoughts about any of the above!


Ode to Dead Young Friends



A.J. Langford Books



Mental Health Month - Too close to Home but here it is regardless



We all suffer at times. 

Some, endlessly. 


It's Mental Health Month so I present to you two of the only four poems I've written so far in 2025. (One poem now and another in the next post). It's very unlike me and that's because creativity is the first thing to go when suffering from shitty mental health. 

I've had severe anxiety, which has been going on for over a year. I've always had anxiety and there's been bad periods, panic attacks, going back to childhood but nothing like what I've been experiencing. Very physical. Very debilitating. It's been the toughest part of my life without a doubt. Your own brain turning against you. There's no escape. It's been fucking horrendous. 


AI created for this post


Only my girlfriend really knows what it's been like for me. She's seen it up close. Without her I would say I would have done myself in. This is not a pity cry. It was an escape I fantasised about. I will say I have improved over the past few months, and especially the past three weeks. 

Anyway, read the poems and know they come from a place of deep truth. If anything, I've underplayed how I've been. In public, I've certainly kept up a brave face. I've been able to work but only just. Valium has got me through. (Cold showers too). I've been in survival mode. Truth is, some people are supportive, others not at all, but only up to a point and only for a set time. I've learnt this the hard way. People get empathy burn out. And they're the ones who actually care. Depressed people are on their own. Happy people attract others. A sad fact. And we wonder people take their own lives. 

I don't.





Far from land, foretold

 

Hope surfaces

Like the proverbial drowning man

Trying to suck in air

Before the next wave devours him.

 

I am adrift

A plaything

A joke

To amuse the oceanic Gods

‘Look how it struggles

While grasping its futility

Pathetic.’

The irony being

I can see the funny side too

If only it wasn’t

Happening to me.

 

I yearn for the sky

And how it must look

Elsewhere

Yet, I am not in control

Of my environment

Much less my fate

It was preordained

I merely kept up the strokes

As though it would take me

In a new direction

To a different outcome

The one I dreamt when young.

 

But now that I’m here

I see that the script was already written

Even in youth.

 

It doesn’t mean I want this

I’d do anything for an alternate

I am surrounded by surging

Unforgiving seas

Too far gone

For rescue.

 

The only choice

Is to let go

It’s time for the suffering

To expire.

 

 

24.2.25  1.05 am

 

(I have considered that option far too many times in the past year. With plans to enact. Not good).


Here's a short video I made a year ago from a poem from 2020. I got far worse after this. Can you relate in some way? I've no doubt you can. Some things are universal.

Except for sociopaths. They have no doubts whatsoever. Haha 


Spin me like a record baby



The second poem in the next post with something positive to end on. 

Thank you for reading this far. 



AI image of me at work (I always hand-write poems/stories/novels)
I hope to return to it when able.


Way back in 1992 I made a short film about a man who loses control of his mind after a series of life blows. Knowing my own mind, it wasn't a large stretch. 

Shot in Sydney when I first moved there in late 1991. 





The second poem and some positive news in the next and final Mental Health Month post.

Two New Additions and a whole lot of free entertainment

 

Hi there,

Hope you're tracking well this week.

I have two new different types of entertainment for you to take a look at. One music, one story.


Fabulously Flawed Phil doesn't hold back. Pray you don't encounter him.



All New


I have a new Page on my website for Video adaptions of six of my Stories. All located in the one place. They're all quite different, engaging and unique. Two are true stories. 

HERE

The Last Great Ice Shelf

The Night We Should Have Died

A True Story

Fabulous Flaw Finding Phil

Don't Bring me Down 

The Loop

The Hopeless Romantic

A Blue Mountains true story





A company wants to build a resort on The Last Great Ice Shelf.
Eco terrorists have other ideas.




Plus A New Playlist, Best Songs of 2025. Clearly an ongoing adjustment as the year progresses but many good songs already available right HERE via YouTube.


Pulp are back baby!




They love to blame

 

Music of the Masses - A Video


They love to point the finger. Are we all guilty?

Watch the very short video HERE first. A little more on the background and context below.




I've written in the past about the rise of Social Justice Warriors and many others who form groups and lay blame in particular directions. Simplistic views with simplistic solutions. 





Many of those poems and satire were written when social media was still relatively new. At that time, people were still very much into forming cliques and posting rants. Those groups have evolved. Social media is very much a part of the overall media framework if not more so than the mainstream in terms of numbers and influencing the population. We've seen it transform the world really, when it comes to polarizing society, forming a very much Black and White, Us Vs Them mentality. It has affected Governments, company policy, laws, you name it. No more ambiguity, complexity, rational discourse. 

We are more divided than ever. Still it goes on and will likely never change. The arguments continue.  Any dissenting voices are blocked and worse, people are cancelled. Entire livelihoods taken away. We've created a world where some are frightened to speak at all, while others have too much power and rule with impunity. Of course, no one includes themselves when casting judgement. The chasm continues to widen.







Hate is easy. 


It all started online where it was very easy to simply unfriend someone you didn't agree with. People sought out others who agreed with them on everything. While it had its benefits and many helped others and continues to do so, there were many negatives. Mature discourse is good. Diversity of thought is good. Working together is the aim. We're seeing the opposite in many realms. 

Where do you see it all going? 
Love to hear your view.



Until next time,

Peace
Anthony


Watch HERE on YouTube













I saw things I did not want to see

 

I worked part-time in a Nursing Home for five years. This after working in the media for thirty. Needless to say it was a massive eye opener.

I wrote this one day around 2016.





There are things, worse than death

 

I contemplate my death

One more time

Too many, to be natural

As the sun dies

And the birds retire

And my gut aches again

Something I’m not sure of

And I know something gets us all

But I hope it’s not that.

A sudden head slump

Heart attack please

No extras

Just make it quick.

 

Ah I’m sorry sir

But that’s our most requested

And there’s no guarantee of delivery

 

I’ll have it sooner

Rather than later, I say.

 

I don’t mind the rush

As long as I don’t end up

With a P.O.W. type frame

Shitting my medically

Administered lunch

As that seems to be against nature

An aberration

And no one wants to go out

As a ‘freak’ of nature

A display too terrible

To lay eyes upon.

 

If we knew

How’d it be

We’d take matter into our own hands

While we still had the power to use them.

 

Instead, we take the gamble

And watch the lights dim

Hoping the night doesn’t deliver

A nightmare

Too terrible to be real.

 



From a Natural News article about Norwegian Homes, 2017


Clearly not everyone ends up in a Home and not all of them are like this. The point being, if you knew that you would end up this way, you'd take matters into your own hands.

Ironically, both of my Grandmother's ended up in Nursing Homes (last resort of course), and both died within two weeks. Neither wanted to be there. The mind is powerful. You can will yourself to die. I said this when my Grandmother went in this year, as she had stated she'd had enough. She died a week later. I also witnessed it multiple times in my work. 

Both of my Grandfathers did not end up in homes. Both also died quite suddenly, albeit thirty years apart. 

I'm sure you've got your own personal story. Please feel free to share if you wish. 


Peace

(And love to my dear Grandparents, Vinnie and Carmel, Stan and Nell. All beautiful, strong people).


A.J. Langford Books


Hard done by? It's your Story - A Video

 

Did you try and fail? 

Your story is not their story. 


Video below or read the text if you prefer. 



Watch HERE






Your story is not their story

 

The seed was not sewn

Incorrect metaphor

It was commitment

A full plunge

All or nothing

Isn’t that what we were taught?

With such investment

It was bound to pay off.

 

And there was indeed

A return

A trickle feed

Snowball effect

Yet too slow

For sustenance.

 

The only option

Was to fold up

Close down

And move on

Against your deepest need

As you are not one of those

Who can afford

To keep it burning.

 

You feel as though

The world cheated you

Hard done by

And you suffer

Yet if you do the math

The odds (and evens) equate

This is how it is

For most

Yet your trembling pain remains

Exquisite and sensitive

And you’re loathed

To try again.



Words 2013.  Video 2024



I enjoyed making this video. I think it turned out well. 




I'm a misery guts haha.

I think I was inspired by my own struggles as a writer to 'make it' in a world where I believed talent alone would be enough to get you noticed. I discovered that it was much more about networking; a large profile, the right 'identity', among other factors. 

I did have some successes. A lot of my poems and some stories were published in magazines and online. I pushed on after this poem (2013), but never 'made it' per se but I'm still proud of the work I created. I received great responses from those who have read my work. That's good enough.


Anyway, I saw how many were trying to get in and how many actually did. Same with many industries, particularly the creative fields. So little room. The vast majority won't have the successes they dreamed of. They won't even get a look in. So that's what this poem is all about. The invisible ones who don't get there, no matter what area of life. Even love.

Let me know your thoughts. Until next time,

Peace

Anthony

A.J. Langford Books


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