Trees and ADHD


It has been scientifically proven by leading experts in the field of Treeology that humans are, in fact, evolved from trees.

Dr Treesdum of the Scientific Institute of Treeology explained his theory at a recent conference in Treeburg. According to him, all character flaws are not in fact flaws, but are all rooted in how far evolved from trees that each individual is. To illustrate this, he states, “ADHD is not actually a medical condition that needs to be treated with highly toxic drugs,  but is actually a branch of evolutionary progress which, in times long past, was essential to mankind’s progression from trees in the depths of African jungles into people in the Northern Hemisphere.” He explains, “Some people, like trees, are forever rooted to the same spot and are excellent candidates for factory work, shop work, office work, or any other job that effectively requires that a person stay in the same place for extended periods of time.” He went on, “The roots of what we call ADHD may have actually been a genetic mutation which triggered trees to shed their roots and explore further in their environment. There can be no doubt that this evolution led to the discovery of America, Australia, and basically anywhere else on earth that isn’t Africa.”

When asked to elaborate further, he said, “While the ADHD gene caused trees, and subsequently people, to uproot themselves and explore other countries, it is now of a somewhat problematic nature since the furthest regions of the world are now overpopulated and it’s now more evolutionarily advantageous to carry the gene for being rooted to the spot, since most modern means of survival involve this kind of stationary existence.” He stressed, “ADHD is not a medical condition to be treated with drugs but one which needs to be understood as something which evolution, at one point, favoured.”

When asked where his crazy theory originated, he said, “When I began my studies in biology, I was startled by how visually similar the branches of nerves and lung tissue were to trees which had lost all of their leaves. They say trees are ‘the lungs of the earth’ and it’s hardly a coincidence, but we now know that the truth is so much more than this.”

He concluded by saying, “While the current state of the world is difficult for people with ADHD, such people should not lose hope, ” he continued, “ADHD will again become a crucial part of human evolution, and afflicted persons will no doubt be perfect candidates for space exploration.”


Die Standing

Everything that his life had been was reduced to this. Every sinew in his body burned,  old manevery joint grated in such a way as to send sharp pains shooting through the very fibre of his being, like glass slicing relentlessly through skin and bone. His mind was fading, just as his body was weakening, but as long as he kept moving towards his goal he knew that he would be fine. His legs had been failing for years and so he had an increasing reliance on his walking canes, which had become like a second pair of legs throughout his daily trip to the shop.

Every day at 12pm he started out on this long, torturous hike. It was only half a mile from his house to the shop but to him, with the effort he had to exert to get there, it could have been Mt Everest. Never could there be an endurance athlete who exercised such willpower as this old man. Such was his focus, that he barely acknowledged the greetings of passersby that saluted him, not that there were many of those these days. Most people he had ever known had already perished in the relentless fires of existence. Many of them had rotted away, forgotten, in front of televisions in old folks homes, drugged up to their eyeballs so as not to be too much of a nuisance to the staff who cared for them; treated like children by these people who knew nothing and cared less about the lives of the empty decaying shells of those who used to be regarded as people. Continue reading “Die Standing”

Tuesday Night Trad Session in Garveys, Eyre Square

My mind aglow after my writing group’s meet, I spontaneously popped into Garvey’s pub in Eyre Square. It was a Tuesday evening some time after 9 and there was a trad session in motion. My focus shifted from the hands of one musician to another as they all became one with their instruments, creating a rhythmic energy that was bigger than any of them, but of which they were all an essential part.

A man with long curly black hair, who looked like what I’d imagine of one of Dumas’ three musketeers, thrummed away on his bodhrán, providing the session’s heart beat. It transpired that he was Spanish. A flame haired lady from Brazil (but who looked very Irish) fiddled away frenetically in unison. A Japanese man sat on the outskirts, enthusiastically endeavouring to hold the flow and lose himself in the rhythm. A bespectacled and bearded English gentleman fiddled along in harmony. A somewhat entranced looking Irishman strummed away on an Irish buzuki, providing a rhythmic consistency to the momentum. Another lady, slender and tanned, (I’m not sure where she was from) accordion-ed along with them, providing a melodic back drop which could almost make one believe in fairy tales, leprechauns, and the luck of four leaf clovers.
Continue reading “Tuesday Night Trad Session in Garveys, Eyre Square”


It’s a warm, late August evening and I’m alive, running through the streets of Galway to the beat of music in my headphones. The music is irrelevant. All that matters is that it complements my inexorable desire to run.

It’s Saturday night and dusk is slowly descending. I run along Lough Atalia. Cars waft by me. As I pass the Harbour Hotel, painted, scantily clad women are chatting and puffing on cigarettes as I glide past them. The smell is mixed with weird smelling perfume and it offends my senses even though I used to smoke myself. They stand clumsily on high heels which I’m sure will prove an increasing impossibility as the night progresses and alcohol seeps into their brains, dampening their souls. Doubtless, some of them will end up in the arms of complete strangers for one night only, as the saying goes. One or two of them eyeball me with emotionless expressions. For some reason I think of seals lying lazily on a beach. Continue reading “Alive”