I woke one night recently while having a pint of the black stuff to find that the Oak had lost nothing of it's bleakness. Usually I prefer to stay comatose throughout the full extent of my visits, finding it difficult to cope with bleary excitement the establishment creates. The question my previous remarks may generate in your mind, that is; why do I keep going back, if the place is so bleak?
Well, a number of years ago at a party I met and had a conversation with a man of Indian persuasion, know amongst his friends as 'The Buddha of Suburbia' and who spoke in riddles.
'My friend' he said looking at me intensely 'I don't think you have found yourself yet'.
At the time I didn't realise I was supposed to be looking, anyway he lifted my eyelids and looked deeply into my eyes 'Mmm...do you suffer from manic depression?' he asked. A question I have not asked myself repeatedly, life is too miserable, dark, depressing to ask such prolific questions and assume one may get the answers one wants to hear.
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