The door closes and it's just me, my madness, Tam and his clipboard. Tilt your head and listen in till my heart is content!
I see myself as a bit of a chickliterer, or maybe henliterer, who drops bits of fluff and debris all over this site!
Rusty Bernard lives in Glasgow and pretends it is NYC. She has been abandoned by her libido, hormones and children but still has her own teeth and a hint of ginger hair!
In writing The Mental Pause I have deliberately and cynically rejected the idea of form and structure to create something so damaged and purposeless that I myself have been restored in the process.
The profound and sometimes hilarious absurdities of Rusty's rantings paint a collage of mocking and often twisted views which reject any rational belief in herself and the establishment.
How do we recognise someone who is suffering from depression and find a way to repair them before they resort to the ultimate relief?