The Squatter

I've always been a free spirit, ask anyone. No fixed abode me, no permanent address. No tying me down to the one, the only one. Just not my style. Believe me, no body is that fascinating. And if they are, you can bet whatever currency you like, they're already taken. Although, saying that, I have been with some very, shall we say interesting people. And if you think this is going to be one of those kiss and tell things, then forget it. I don't go in for gossiping, I'm not out to impress, because to me it's all about finding something I fancy at the time. Nice place to go for a holiday, but you wouldn't want to live there. Know what I mean? I tell you, sometimes I pass an old pal on the street, and I can tell even as he's saying Hello how you been? that he's stuck in there for life. And I think: Poor sod. It's the way he looks so comfy slippers and cups of tea. Which is very nice, don't get me wrong, if you're into that sort of thing. More often than not though, it can turn out to be something of a prison sentence, cos it's for life. Have you never wondered why some people commit suicide when there was no reason whatsoever? It's cos the spirit can't bear it any longer. Which means the only way out is death. Bring it on I say.

See, most of my mates went back home, straight back to what they knew, without a thought of what it might be like to be with some one you've never met. A chance to experience a different life. No way they said, and went home. Do folk never wonder when somebody pipes up “ Ooh, Sal's just like her mum, may she rest in peace” why that might be the case? Simple. After Sal's mum died, Sal's mum's spirit figured the best place to go was home, with her family. Mum's back for good.

When I first started out I was keen to experience everything, everyone, as many people as I could. Not a very good plan. Some won't let you in; they pin up a sign on their psyche – Keep Out. Which is all right by me, cos then it's not personal. Once I was on my way in when I bumped into a mate on his way out. Have a nice time? I asked him.

You don't wanna go in there, he muttered, it's a complete mess. And it doesn't follow that a kid will give you the best years. Thankfully I didn't sign any contract, so like my mate, I could get out when things began to get a little worrying.

I know, some will say I should've stayed and turned things around, but take it from me, in this game, and I was going to say you have to be realistic, you have to pragmatic – what I'd call semi-detached – some people have souls that may just need a sorting out, getting rid of the clutter, and some are just too frightening to look at, let alone live with.

After a while, which in my case is about two hundred years, you get a feel for what you like, who you're comfortable with. I could drop some names at this point, but to be honest it makes me a little angry, a little resentful. Have you heard the expression – The spirit moved me – Well that spirit could've well been me, or some other like me. No. Along the line, at some stage you feel a need for recognition. Some acknowledgement for your achievements.

Take those award ceremonies. People get up and make speeches, thanking everybody they ever knew. Well that's it, isn't it? Body. Do I or my sort get any kind of mention? Some credit for helping? Never.

How do you think Mozart got ever so talented? And why do you think he died so young? And if I tell you that during the 60's and 70's I consider myself and some of my like minded musicians responsible for quite a few suicides, you'll know what I'm talking about. Think about it.

So, the next time you have a brilliant idea, or something amazing happens, when you come to thank your lucky stars, include me in your list of credits.

By Layn Feldman

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