Firstly I’ve dropped all ideas about being special or anything else. It seemed this was in me, came out and has now been released. I’ll leave it now for other people to decide and have no concern about it left myself.
Otherwise it seems that despite being ‘released from jail’ or the equivalent, having completed my long list of unpleasant tasks, I am not happy. That lasts the day or so after the last is over, and then the emptiness of what’s left must take over, showing me that as long as I’m alone I won’t get much joy out of life even when free.
So, for the first time ever I’ve made a list of things of nice things to do instead of jobs. Not very long yet but a good idea. Hope is overrated as well. What gives you hope? Speculation. Any major event in my life hasn’t been built up to or forseen, they just happen. No clues ahead very often so little or no hope.
Last week was 95% predictable, reaching closer to a level there’s no room for variation, which may come this week. Nothing seen either way good or bad, just a week. But at least I’m free of caring what I prove, as I realised last week I’m not answerable to anyone. Not as easy as dropping my ego which was like laying an egg, but an old habit I need to break.
The trouble is life and the blog that follows it repeats itself so becomes a slight variation of previous entries. What can I do? Even holidays (which my nerves do a Dennis Bergkamp-like shudder when mentioned or imagined) only give me another chance to get stressed and something to talk about for the rest of my life for a week or two’s experience. (To non-Europeans, Dennis is one of the world’s best footballers who won’t fly).
Now I struggle to liven up this blog sometimes, though I enjoy reading other people’s boredom, banality and misery, most people want a laugh. That’s not to order with me, and what makes me laugh tends to either be shared with primary schoolkids or repressed Jewish intellectuals like myself (and Will Self- a natural pun there!). Connections in the media usually work as long as you have the minimum of talent (I think a few lessons in writing and I will do), and imagining Will Self and Toby Young knocking around with me in my 40s instead of my teens and before may have improved my work prospects no end, as well as probably having a bloody good time as well. I doubt Harry Hill would have kept in touch should I have tried last summer, as I was just a loyal fan who happened to live near where he was filming for a few days and took under his wing (probably out of pity!). All he needs is a dribbling fan following him around as he tries to get on with his life.
What pretends to be hope is a few weeks ahead. Changing my car, a possible female visit which I still aren’t 100% sure if business or pleasure in her view, another which may happen once we find her phone number, and a dwindling chance of my next TV filming in June. The car is the most likely and least exciting of those, the two women can be divided into a definite visit that’s almost definitely business, and a possible one that’s almost definitely platonic. Story of the last 25 years. So no point wasting my attention looking unspecified times ahead to things that are almost impossible.
I did find one book on my ‘missing’ list last week, which was on the proper shelf but between two albums, so camouflaged a little. The second I looked for another book I haven’t seen for years (and probably didn’t survive the move) I saw it immediately. As always, if you look for any specific item you probably won’t find it (same with people). Look for something else and there it is. The second last person on my missing persons list was found (via his sister) and never even replied. Unless he’s not on the list as he’s dead, but the last one was and someone still had the decency to let me know.
So I really only want to live in a family again, with a girlfriend/wife and other friends, and hopefully a regular income. Seen that experiment at the science museum, where the coin sits on the table and falls in a hole as soon as you try and touch it? That’s the same as trying to control people. They aren’t designed to follow each other’s needs. We each go in a unique direction and only when lucky enough to meet another that is better than the other things in our life and they feel the same way will it work. And share a house with someone? You may as well try and knit smoke. As for getting more than we deserve, a few new-agers say ‘think big and the world will respond’, but finding another person I approve of who has the cash to buy half our old house so I can move back is the equivalent of trying to get a degree without taking any exams. You don’t get the prize without putting in the effort, and the amount I paid for my own house was almost a miracle at the time, so double that and more is only available to those earning about £40,000 plus a year, not on the dole. Now if anyone wants an example of a miracle, just imagine any of that list ‘just happening’, like in a film.
Liz Jones of the Daily Mail finally splitting from her husband and giving me a try. She could buy two of my old house and at least I’m the right age for her and am faithful. She may even have read this blog though working about 1000 hours a week (her estimate I added a zero to) I don’t think she’d still have the time. It’s not like I want something without working for it. I studied for years for letters after my name, and then went to endless classes to learn assorted other things, and then years of writing about them for unpaid journals. I have enough professional experience to know enough about people to lecture or present programmes about. I’ve learnt art and music nearly all my life and have only chosen not to use music for money as when I tried it ruined the pleasure of playing (unless I was in a group playing rock and roll, which I never managed). You don’t need a three year apprenticeship in a local paper any more to write. A degree in more or less anything opens most doors, and a backing of a professional career should make me a fair candidate for consideration. So I’m not asking the earth by any means.
On the female front it’s totally the opposite. I have had more girlfriends than most people I know, not because I’m any good at it but never got married so kept adding to the list. And incredibly persistent due to a phenomenal sex drive. But they never lasted, like staff working for a rogue employer. The turnover was very high. But it meant one thing. There couldn’t have been enough wrong with me not to get them hooked.
I don’t think there are reasons women dislike men once they get to know them, though they try and find them to justify themselves. One said I didn’t wash my hands when I went for a pee. That appeared to be the actual reason she dumped me despite showering me with compliments about my important qualities. If it was true she’d have just told me to. But as she didn’t really like me it was her excuse. What has that effect time after time beats me, and seems to be a magnetic reversal that when I’m positive they are repelled and vice versa. It’s really getting on my nerves…