Looking at the themes here, I see a pattern outside the actual philosophy side, that my life is a continual struggle to find interest where there is very little any more.
Gradually all my old interests were eroded away, and have now amounted to a big fat zero. Every aspect that brought quality into my life has gone, in 1988 I was no longer able to travel Britain collecting small train tickets besides a few rarities for another 8 years. That mopped up nearly all my spare time besides socialising for about 6 years. Then the family, moving out permanently following 5 years of part time independence was such an anti climax I will never recommend living alone before marriage to a soul.
Finally friends, when my final remaining close friend ran away 4 years ago leaving me high and dry, not living in a community but a crowded desert (it is possible f you know London) . I had a quick girlfriend after that, who became ill and vanished for most of the next 2 years as soon as it become an established relationship, so after a couple of months back in the saddle I was back in the waiting room.
So, four years later I have a few lone pursuits, my photos and videos, my writing etc., but not in a community or workplace. All I have are my own resources for entertainment, and the only offers that do come in are mainly ones I'd run a mile from. So as I write here about daily activities, if I told it how it was it would look like this:
1pm went to Mum's to do gardening
4pm went home
6.30pm saw client
oh
and 11.55pm went for short walk before ice in lungs forced me to return early
wrote blog.
That is boring, but accurate. Instead I do what I can to add enough extra detail to make any activity readable. Whether I succeed I don't know but it's the skill of any professional writer and one I need if I aspire to that. So I'll now present the usual version.
The desert they call North London has become a moving background with almost no significance or substance any longer. It's an empty scene of buildings and strangers where though there appears to be continuing activity, it's just like a model railway with no actual people and the trains go nowehere but in a circle. The only reality is when I open my front door where I control the environment but again it's empty of people. There are some incredibly beautiful scenes around my block, like the girls I see coming home from school sometimes, but neither the natural or personal beauty is mine, it's a passing view and no more.
Look but don't touch. Kind of like the whole of life now, I see it happening around me but am barely part of it. I was, and I can see the difference.
No plans any more. Waste of time even if I could be inspired to think of any. Women like me at an inverse distance to where I am. Once they hit the UK they start to lose interest. I still meet some nice women around but they look through me as if I'm just a voice with no body when we do talk. I do wonder sometimes as it's almost impossible to work your way through so many single women with no results unless you're a total disaster area and I've seen many worse than me do OK. There are still a few professional restrictions stopping me from saying certain things here, probably not verboten but would spoil my reputation at least. But all I will say is if more people in the same boat got together in a little group than looked for their solutions elsewhere the problems would more or less disappear as a result. But as it doesn't correspond with any known professional method I can't do anything about it.
There's no conclusion yet, or possibly ever. Only memories of what was. I know every person has a golden era, some in the present, others in the past like me, and some not yet but will happen. Like a dream, you go to sleep and find yourself in a place with people and enjoy it or not, and then it changes and you're somewhere else. Life is no different. Any attempt to move or change is really staying in the same place as though one aspect will appear to change nothing else does. I was in Chicago and had a phone call telling me I'd failed half my 1st year exams. That was my situation, any other aspect had no effect on that reality. Just like getting drunk. You shift your attention for a few hours and then everything returns as it was. I've moved house many times, and the only difference is whether I like the place. But the life varies little even when I went as far afield as Oxford. God was I bored. I worked in a good place with good people during the day, and returned to an empty flat in the middle of nowhere and used to ride my bike or walk most nights. Nothing's changed since except no work. I only managed to move back when I was offered a well paid job in London or I may well still be there nearly 20 years on. And a lot less stress there of course, I could get everywhere by bike and every facility was within 3 miles. No friends though there.
Now is no different. The train has reached it's return to the same station in the model, where every journey goes nowhere but the start destination, and even when someone alters the scenery the actual place is still the same underneath.
Sorry I accidentally realised I could switch colours at will, I may as well add a colour dimension as well as the writing as they let me, especially as I can't alter the background.
So tomorrow, unlike the other Thursdays, has become my day off this week. I wonder what I'll do, as besides unpacking the kitchen things I never seem to use (plus wash them) there really isn't much on besides learning some more piano bits. Technically some of the people I referred to in passing would be welcome visitors, but in my line of work that is truly verboten, as I said, even talking about it is sailing close to the wind. But people are people and when you meet one you get on with it's a gift and a privilege. At least I know they're around. And I am meeting more and more people on and offline with a similar set of problems to me, it may well be a symptom of the dreadful urban overcrowding I mentioned yesterday as I never used to hear other people who were all so stressed. We really need a new hippy movement as that was the one thing that dragged society in the right direction for a few years before glam rock and disco sadly took over in 1974. But pockets of sleeping hippies remain all over the world ready to awaken at the call, but will it ever happen?
Gradually all my old interests were eroded away, and have now amounted to a big fat zero. Every aspect that brought quality into my life has gone, in 1988 I was no longer able to travel Britain collecting small train tickets besides a few rarities for another 8 years. That mopped up nearly all my spare time besides socialising for about 6 years. Then the family, moving out permanently following 5 years of part time independence was such an anti climax I will never recommend living alone before marriage to a soul.
Finally friends, when my final remaining close friend ran away 4 years ago leaving me high and dry, not living in a community but a crowded desert (it is possible f you know London) . I had a quick girlfriend after that, who became ill and vanished for most of the next 2 years as soon as it become an established relationship, so after a couple of months back in the saddle I was back in the waiting room.
So, four years later I have a few lone pursuits, my photos and videos, my writing etc., but not in a community or workplace. All I have are my own resources for entertainment, and the only offers that do come in are mainly ones I'd run a mile from. So as I write here about daily activities, if I told it how it was it would look like this:
1pm went to Mum's to do gardening
4pm went home
6.30pm saw client
oh
and 11.55pm went for short walk before ice in lungs forced me to return early
wrote blog.
That is boring, but accurate. Instead I do what I can to add enough extra detail to make any activity readable. Whether I succeed I don't know but it's the skill of any professional writer and one I need if I aspire to that. So I'll now present the usual version.
The desert they call North London has become a moving background with almost no significance or substance any longer. It's an empty scene of buildings and strangers where though there appears to be continuing activity, it's just like a model railway with no actual people and the trains go nowehere but in a circle. The only reality is when I open my front door where I control the environment but again it's empty of people. There are some incredibly beautiful scenes around my block, like the girls I see coming home from school sometimes, but neither the natural or personal beauty is mine, it's a passing view and no more.
Look but don't touch. Kind of like the whole of life now, I see it happening around me but am barely part of it. I was, and I can see the difference.
No plans any more. Waste of time even if I could be inspired to think of any. Women like me at an inverse distance to where I am. Once they hit the UK they start to lose interest. I still meet some nice women around but they look through me as if I'm just a voice with no body when we do talk. I do wonder sometimes as it's almost impossible to work your way through so many single women with no results unless you're a total disaster area and I've seen many worse than me do OK. There are still a few professional restrictions stopping me from saying certain things here, probably not verboten but would spoil my reputation at least. But all I will say is if more people in the same boat got together in a little group than looked for their solutions elsewhere the problems would more or less disappear as a result. But as it doesn't correspond with any known professional method I can't do anything about it.
There's no conclusion yet, or possibly ever. Only memories of what was. I know every person has a golden era, some in the present, others in the past like me, and some not yet but will happen. Like a dream, you go to sleep and find yourself in a place with people and enjoy it or not, and then it changes and you're somewhere else. Life is no different. Any attempt to move or change is really staying in the same place as though one aspect will appear to change nothing else does. I was in Chicago and had a phone call telling me I'd failed half my 1st year exams. That was my situation, any other aspect had no effect on that reality. Just like getting drunk. You shift your attention for a few hours and then everything returns as it was. I've moved house many times, and the only difference is whether I like the place. But the life varies little even when I went as far afield as Oxford. God was I bored. I worked in a good place with good people during the day, and returned to an empty flat in the middle of nowhere and used to ride my bike or walk most nights. Nothing's changed since except no work. I only managed to move back when I was offered a well paid job in London or I may well still be there nearly 20 years on. And a lot less stress there of course, I could get everywhere by bike and every facility was within 3 miles. No friends though there.
Now is no different. The train has reached it's return to the same station in the model, where every journey goes nowhere but the start destination, and even when someone alters the scenery the actual place is still the same underneath.
Sorry I accidentally realised I could switch colours at will, I may as well add a colour dimension as well as the writing as they let me, especially as I can't alter the background.
So tomorrow, unlike the other Thursdays, has become my day off this week. I wonder what I'll do, as besides unpacking the kitchen things I never seem to use (plus wash them) there really isn't much on besides learning some more piano bits. Technically some of the people I referred to in passing would be welcome visitors, but in my line of work that is truly verboten, as I said, even talking about it is sailing close to the wind. But people are people and when you meet one you get on with it's a gift and a privilege. At least I know they're around. And I am meeting more and more people on and offline with a similar set of problems to me, it may well be a symptom of the dreadful urban overcrowding I mentioned yesterday as I never used to hear other people who were all so stressed. We really need a new hippy movement as that was the one thing that dragged society in the right direction for a few years before glam rock and disco sadly took over in 1974. But pockets of sleeping hippies remain all over the world ready to awaken at the call, but will it ever happen?
1 comment:
Women are something else, ya know. Hard to figure out what they want and don't want. If you're having trouble with women, I've posted an article "Pointers for the Dunces" going through some DOs and DON'Ts. Check it out, you may learn something.
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