Tuesday, October 31, 2006
I'm only writing this as I'm not having my haircut, and the Funtrivia blog has been down for days, and the few others in the same position are being told it's at their end which is impossible. There's little point starting many other jobs as the barber may call back at any time and really there's sod all that needs to be done till tomorrow so why look for work? I'm still wishing for more good news. The business news was wonderful but if I could have something on the pleasure front, both a peak and something that lasts it would make all the difference. And I've learnt you can't earn or deserve such news. It's totally independent of everything, and as with all changes and events seems to come in bunches like my work every day this week. Some is delayed from cancellations last week and other is voluntary but it still has to be done. And so far all I've done is write a little description for someone collecting it this week and killed time on the internet. Will I get my haircut? My grandma expects it to be done when I go there and if not she's going to blame me whether it was my fault or not. Or be very disappointed regardless, as I am. So, I wait, and the other strange rule is only when you've forgotten about something you're waiting for might it happen. So I'll have to carry on as if nothing's happening and then the call will come when I'm not thinking about it. Truly weird and almost always the case.
Meanwhile I'd like to make an announcement to all those people on Friends Reunited, and if any of my readers are on it, you as well. Don't join if you aren't going to play the game. If you only want to lurk don't bother to add your name, just search and don't waste my time and millions of others pretending you want to be contacted. Arseholes.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Thank goodness my few counselling clients get something from my tiny number of working hours, quality not income. And the hundreds of jobs I applied for prove my intentions. I'm ordering more photo prints this week and possibly some enlargements with nowhere to put them. At 5'5'' many women say they'd like an enlargement of me but they can fuck right off. On the screen women can't see how tall a man is so can't judge on that criterion. Men aren't concerned with women's height so why vice versa? I don't make the rules. Rupert Murdoch does that for most of the words besides Kim Il Jong in North Korea. If that's his name, I may have mixed him up with a footballer. Imagine 50 years from now some internet sites will become world classics. Not mine I suppose, but a few great authors will become famous from the internet, like some of the musicians except they were promoted by millions by their record companies unlike unpaid writers.
GCSE English 2050. Great writers of the internet. Urban dictionary. 'Man who screws another up the arse while bent over'. That will replace Shakespeare and Milton in the new English literature of the millenium. Tabloid classics. What light from, like, yonder window breaks, innit?
Cack cack bloody cack. The world is melting into hell day by day. And I leave you with the punchline. Following years of stories about global warming, we have finally got the result. Higher taxes. What a surprise. To prevent a positive fuel saving potential scenario only seen on articles by bribed scientists we will pay higher taxes. What? Where's the cause and effect there? Global warming = higher temperatures = using less fuel to heat the world. So they want to stop it, as if they even could? Morons accept it unquestioning and as all three parties agree you can't vote to stop it. All the bloody same and we can do sod all about it. Lovely world when run on lies and corruption. Nobody criticises these twats for being unemployed, they just get paid for stealing our money. Give me unemployed.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
But for me it’s a typical situation of knowing a lot and being able to do very little. I don’t argue with girlfriends, but I don’t have any. I am able to teach many by writing articles, don’t earn a penny from it, and doubt it will ever make a difference to my professional career. Remember, I don’t just write about life and philosophy off the top of my head.. I’m qualified as a psychotherapist and see much of what I write about directly and also have to deal with it directly. I try and test my ideas in reality and they work. But if you look at any successful self help expert, I doubt many are immune to life as it is. If you know a heck of a lot but are still put in a position in life with holes in it the problem is most of what we teach is how to deal with what you have, not get what you haven’t. It stops you screwing up on the path of success by falling into traps, but in no way can achieve the impossible. As witchcraft says, nothing they do can interfere with others’ free will, and getting others to follow ours is not really realistic. That’s why slavery was abolished (except in Eastern European gangs) and it really isn’t possible to make others follow your wishes like sheep. We neither know what others want till they tell us, and what we think may impress them or annoy them often is really covered by something totally different as they see it in a different way. Just like an exam. Any area where we are judged by others can’t be manipulated without inside information as we simply don’t know what impresses others. So we can only be ourselves and do it well.
So meanwhile I have lost what could have been my best chance at success by a woman who finally ran out of patience with me. I imagined after coming back for more after being treated badly (I was only 14) only to be ignored again has now totally got her revenge (stupid bitch, it doesn’t work like that) by doing it back to me. That is pride and loses us everything if operated. Just because you have a chance to get someone back, if you lose something better you are an arse. And unless her time is so occupied that she couldn’t email me till the weekend (and they’ll find a cure for cancer) she’s exercised the easy way out by believing by doing the same to me as I did to her 22 years ago (the second time) she will satisfy her pride, and also fuck up my life and possibly her own if she is still single. But as I expect her to be shacked up with an unemployed tattooed criminal of course he’d probably kill her if she did reply and anyway she’s happy with her new model having clearly got far less from her dream marriage than she expected. That showed me how like all other animals people can be tame or wild, and women prefer the wild physically at least. Reforming criminals involves domesticating them, and that’s why many never go back as they have evolved beyond it. And us house cats still have to suffer living in a world with violent fundamentalists, mad fundamentalists and individual and organised criminals. The child vandals on buses who write on the walls in full view and then destroy the glass shelters are untamed savages. They are as close to normal educated humans as a lion, in fact a tame lion is closer to us than they are. Unless mentally ill all are capable of reform, but until they do (the minority) us nice people have to share our suburbs and cities alike with an element of savagery. They don’t intimidate me but just repel me. The thick arses they film and show getting drunk on the news every week are not just wild but thick as shit. If you get drunk and ill once certainly in my case I never did again. These stupid fuckers do it every week. And my ex almost girlfriend may possibly prefer one to me as they are so ‘exciting’ compared to people who can invent bifocal glasses and discover relativity. I give up…
Saturday, October 28, 2006
The whole outside world is almost accessible here and far better people than currently in my real life but besides the odd revolting quality printout (which I no longer do besides written work) it creates nothing solid. But it does allow me, like the earlier video games, to practice my skills and may eventually get paid for it. No reason why not technically, just severe competition and lack of connections. Also all the remaining housework will be possible as I don't have photos to take, and get the ones I have into a hardback album now the list is virtually finished for now. There are new areas for next year if I want to, all miles away as evey part of the local scenery has been covered in the last 11 months with about 600 photos. I wonder if blogging is going to die soon as so few people bother to write and that in turn loses readers, so I expect people are getting the same 60% drop in hits as me all over. Or they just think I'm boring. Well, it's all there is. I can only write what I know, and it's mainly about presentation and I do my best. But I won't post a picture of my cock even though it would probably attract a few more readers, probably gay with my luck.
It seems a bit of an evil air has been around this week. Nothing evil happening really but it seems something isn't as it should be. It may go or it may mean more, and considering my business has been sorted out it shouldn't really be a lot, but I will have to wait and see. I don't raise any hopes now, especially since losing my best shot at TV fame. Why say a programme is for Sky 1 when it's not going to be shown at all? So when I found two of the best women I knew on Friends Reunited one probably didn't know me and the other who did has apparently finally run out of patience with me for letting her go twice. My last chance at a second chance and no more I can do about fixing it. Unless she's so busy she waits till the weekend before doing her email (like anyone in the western world with broadband does that nowadays) I think she is dust and ashes. And that was my fault, my karma and my punishment for letting her go at all. To add to everyone else since whenever it was I got that lucky.
Little else to report, I know a few people say they are reading this so hello my regulars, but people through blogspot seem very thin on the ground. Like women's pubic hair around the menopause. One of those things you discover as you get older. Saves a bit of maintenance I suppose...
The non-hostile person from the others hasn't replied, which is different from the Spaniard at drama classes as I don't think I often spoke to her as my tongue was always hanging out. She didn't even know me from Adam then, let alone now so no surprise, but this new one was a girlfriend even for a few minutes (story told already somewhere). I expect despite being divorced has a yobbo hanging around (she is quite the opposite, but that tends to be the attraction) and wouldn't dare reply in case he bruises her ovaries with his boots. I tend to see life in its darker versions sadly as these guesses are more often and not near the mark. Take Jeremy from primary school. He was the school Nazi (I exaggerate not) and being Jewish I knew about it personally. Now he would have been in his mid 40s when he got engaged, and the day before he got married screwed his ex he met on Friends Reunited, then got married and probably carried on seeing both onwards. People are right arseholes quite often and they tend to win the battles if not the wars. The geeks and nerds make the world the good place it is and the arseholes get all the fun. But genes win over logic and mine are all wearing anoraks.
So after 3 weeks said Spaniard baled as usual, ex girlfriend has had 3 days and out of good manners (what are they I wonder, have I invented them or did they melt with the millenium?) ought to reply, she doesn't have to give me a fucking blow job as well. But I feel no answer now, now answer at all. Probably deleted it instantly in case said imaginary Neanderthal cracked her password and left her spread across the estate. The trouble with East Enders (and why I would never watch it) is it actually fairly accurate except for having a local community in London. People like that do behave exactly as portrayed and seem to be a different species from me. I see intellectuals across racial divides. A Nigerian geek and an Asian geek are almost interchangeable with any other under the cultural differences, we can spot another at 100 miles and if in writing could never tell the race but always the brains. So the geeks stick together regardless of race and religion as we are united against the lower level alcohol dependent criminal types who are fuelled as much on aggression as we are on curiosity about the world. Tell them anything not concerning football and they call you too deep and tell you to piss off and stop boring them. The question and challenge nothing unless it's offside. Any academic achievement besides O level woodwork or an ASBO is regarded as reflecting homosexuality or at least sterility in a charitable case.
So the divide is only crossed by sex. These people give off a sexual magnetism to women of all types, and despite marrying within the class most classy birds as they call them prefer a good hard shag from an ex convict than Proust with their cunnilingus. Woody Allen may be the only intellectual who can pull the birds but then again his millions do go before him which is the next best pulling power. People like me are seen as the worker ants, very busy and useful but sexless. So many women told me it would be like fucking their own brother I've considered petitioning to have incest legalised. I'm not even anyone's brother (or cousin), so I wouldn't know. I think Woody Allen appears to have that one covered as well... allegedly. Technically said woman was my second best chance at happiness and unlike the first who was banned from seeing me, I wimped out on this one as she lived so far away. She still does but if anything gets me out she will. That would do it.
It is depressing that after someone written off as dead has returned and apparently ignored me, even though she is the only woman I dumped twice. Karma or what? If I haven't been punished on that front enough already. I calculated that had I given her a chance in 1984 I would have never got anyone better since as every woman I have succeeded with since then has been what I would call last resorts. Don't ask me how, my Dad says it's because I am as well but that's what families are for, but I have never got anyone instead since then so have gained nothing compared to possibly besides trying the opportunity to see how it would go actually keeping it long term. She seemed the type to stay and I am and frankly I can't think of one reason she would have put me off. But unless a miracle occurs I've damn well put her off this time. No surprise there anyway.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Anyway. Friends Reunited is such a bunch of crap at times, raising hopes for nothing. You email a bunch of people including who may have been quite a good friend and nothing. Of course 99% of the girls are happily married now so had I been I doubt I'd evn have joined. Besides tracking down a few guys who may have drifted off and would be worth getting in touch with if I was sorted on the female front I'd not only have no reason to look up old girlfriends but would be an insult to my wife. So all these married women are presumably just wanting to gossip with similar about their kids, how many vaccinations they've had, what they're doing at ballet classes and whether they want them to go to Oxford, Cambridge or Yale. What a waste of bloody time. They're already gossiping twenty to the dozen with all their contemporary women friends, and just want to do the same with ones they didn't even like enough to keep in touch with. For christ's sake, people should join it to get off with each other. Second chances, parents stopping something which could have lasted years and then being able to make up for it years later when they can't. But no, they put their names on and probably have absolutely no idea what to do if anyone actually contacts them. Yes, that's you I'm talking about you damn waste of space on a screen from Crouch End. Not that she could see as without replying she wouldn't know my sites. But I'd say it to her face if I ever could, people need to learn.
Otherwise little is expected to happen. My voluntary workload is very busy, but it's only what I do for research and have nothing else to do. But so many in one go. As my mother says I can work full time if I want to do it for nothing but when I want paying I get 2 hours a week. Luckily I pay the bills regardless but would remove a great social stigma if all this time I put in made some real money. I had a social stigma once but the wheels fell off. How long can you look at a screen before you or it goes blank? My mind does at times and then when thoughts return it's nearly all the same ones as before. No new input as so few people to provide it. So I write the same areas each day as there are only the same ones. I think two years ago the entries must have been a bit different but probably variations on a theme. But I am doing my best under the circumstances, give anyone my identical ones and see how they get on. It would be an interesting experiment.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Last night I found 5 more people on Friends Reunited. I only emailed most out of habit, none liked me in the 70s so wouldn't now but if you don't try for the small annual fee what's the point of joining every year? I also decided to email one in New Zealand as I knew her brother though she won't remember me I'm sure. I think only anyone desperate for company like me would go back for more after being spat out 30 years ago so I freely admit it. Number 5 was the opposite of all these qualities so who knows. The drama student from 1979 has been written off though I'll stick to plan B and email her next week just in case I can push her into replying.
Meanwhile BBC1 showed DIY SOS just now instead of an hour special on identity theft. So they were actually perpetrating their own based on presenting one programme as another. Very ironic and the reason I'm here now and not watching it. I also just had to collect a few local therapy names for someone, I got 3, 2 had the same 4 digit sequence in the local number (not exchange) and one had 3 of them. Just the threes is 1000X1000, for a sample of two, this was 1000X1000X1000, about a billion to one. I wrote them down but only spotted it when reading them out. This demonstrates how arrangement can be found all over my life and many others, but be of absolutely no practical benefit. Besides about an hour on video there's shite on TV for the rest of the night, I may go for a walk if it isn't raining, otherwise I have plenty of stuff to keep me busy regardless of the absence of another person. Tomorrow and Friday are more or less free and I don't give a crap whatever I do though of course one photo trip is on the list at least.
I looked for fellow blogs to comment on last night and only found one from this year which was nearly all based on quotes by other authors. Highly original. It's not a magazine, it's a diary, and if you want a single topic entry use a normal dedicated website, it's not what blogs are for! Anyway, I think I'll go over to Funtrivia and stir up some trouble. There's sod all else to do.
Breaking my rule again, I'll probably do photos in Hampstead Garden Suburb tomorrow while I mop up the final week of light before the clocks go back. Then Hendon and that's about it for a while. If I don't shoot me, but I will the next time I go out. Things have become banal, this time through no fault of my own. With the best intentions in the world things have totally dried up. If there was the equivalent of a vaginal lubricant for life I'd go and buy some tomorrow and squirt it all over mine. If I'm not careful at this rate it'll start cracking soon as well, and maybe even get thrush. Well, I've had more infections in the last 12 months than since I was at school, proves I wasn't making it up, but no consolation either way. Maybe the lube should also be medicated as well...
Anyway, something internal or external needs to shake things up soon or I may die of boredom. Technically it's hardly a surprise, living alone, friends deserted and no job. Asking for trouble. And barely within my control, just like the weather. Friend and female forecast. Sod all for months. Easy to predict nowadays. Even all but a few people on the bloody internet, my final refuge of civilised people is drying up as people seem to actually find better things to do. Friends Reunited is OK for curiosity value but hardly a route to social life for those who lost it round about the time they left said schools. Especially with people now in Singapore and fucking New Zealand. I get homesick in Borough High Street for christ's sake, these guys cross the whole planet to live? Cats and dogs again, we each have a preference for home or away, and I'm one for home. The older I get the more content I am in my circle. I always say it may be boring but it's my boring. Having lived around the North Circular nearly all my 46 years although many other areas are nice enough to move to with imaginary wife, if not I have to stick to my patch, I know it pretty bloody well by now. I follow the map in my head to work out where to take photos, aim for places I know and take more on the way in new spots. But I can visualise half the map now in my head after so long.
There's no doubt there are special places and awful ones, I live in a special one I managed to afford, confirmed by so many visitors who compliment both the area and the house inside I know it's not just my opinion. Conversely many others agree Camden Town, Peckham, New Cross, Holloway, Wood Green, Tottenham and many more shitholes are the most oppressive, crowded and depressing areas on earth, all crammed into a circle of 10 miles diameter. Then (as a fellow blogger pointed out some time back) you walk a mile from them and find Highgate, Hampstead Garden Suburb, Regents Park and Primrose Hill. Each duff area is often next to the best, except in the case of Tottenham and Walthamstow. They remain in what used to be West Essex, possibly the nearest place on earth to a preview of hell there is. I've travelled the length and breadth of much of England, and though a few stars like Taunton, Bristol, parts of Manchester and Liverpool, Littlehampton, Poole (if you know where to look), Portslade, Plymouth (the old bits) and Portsmouth have small versions (yes I have a bloody good memory), none can ever compare with a ten plus mile slick of shit from Holloway in the west to Upminster in the east without a break. I had to do that journey as far as Ilford till my grandma died in 1975 and there is not a good word to say for one E postcode. Ilford, East Ham, Forest Gate, Bow, Hackney, I honestly felt like I'd died passing through the endless Victorian terraces punctuated by 60s council estates which go on as far as the eye can see, besides the (now disused) factories. All spawned by the dockland industry to the south, but again, all over long ago. Like a huge dinosaur's litter tray, dropping hundreds of years of brick-built faeces across the whole of East London never to decay or be removed but frozen in stone for eternity.
But the point is I live in what was Middlesex and until the 30s all but Harrow and Southall were nearly all fields. We may have the largest spread of almost identical 3 bedroom semis but it's harmless in Kenton. And Preston Road has a very nice totally isolated shopping parade, only spoilt by the recent arrival of parking restrictions. If anyone wanted a TV or book series on North London, they know where to come.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
So after a fascinating trip to Neasden, going to the Welsh Harp park the opposite side for only the third or fourth time in my life, found it was just as scenic as the other side albeit totally manicured.
Otherwise I have found two major conclusions about my life. One is I needn't aspire to any more at 46, I have done all I have to and everything remaining to do is trivial. Secondly because of that nothing I do is wrong as I am on a foundation of completeness. So whatever I do or don't do from now on is right, work or not. However it hasn't made me feel any better though the negative thoughts have to go as there's no reason for any guilt now. If I piss around taking pictures of parks or take the train to Aberdeen (which I won't) it's just the same. But it doesn't stop it becoming boring or oppressive at times. That's another issue and I suppose I'll have that to work on now having dealt with the acquired guilt from 'conventional' people.
My grandma is about to see my new trousers (and imagine the second green version) and like the old farts on strictly come dancing hold up her scorecard. I reckon about 6/10. They do look like jeans but are soft and come in solid colours, but she will probably say 'jeans'. Big deal. It's Pringle and Burberry tops next so she can pick holes in them. I could never afford them but if given the money that is what I will get. Following tasks include all those mentioned already, the photos were for pleasure and this is the final week before the clocks go back so have to use the light while I can. Over 600 photos in 11 months on the new camera which isn't bad plus 25 videos online. Tomorrow's lot will be Hendon and possibly Colindale and Mill Hill. But if I didn't do it my photographic career would be wasted. And no real alternative. When the weather deteriorates than all the exciting household jobs will be waiting, and maybe before I retire I'll get a plumber as the leaks are spreading. I hope something will break the current monotony, when the highlight is a comment on a photo I know things have become very low indeed...
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Next week I will be writing the second and final email to the bloody witch who hasn't replied to the first one. Some things really wind me up, lying government policies to rip us off in the name of saving the planet (yes, that really convinces anyone with a three figure IQ that emptying the bins every two weeks will make us a cleaner country...), inaccurate newspaper reporting and people ignoring communications. No excuse for any of them, all either dishonest, stupid or bloody inconsiderate. No shortage of that and you can never teach by example. Thank God people are seeing through a few of them, and our immigration policy has finally been questioned along with muslim veils which a great writer described as 'death out for a walk'. They frighten me every time I see them as well. Just like a nightmare. I also emailed woman one on my system hoping to deepen the potential relationship in various ways. Woman two let slip she didn't realise I was interested in her despite sending compliments that would be considered incestuous if to a female relative but as usual when not spelled out in capitals, went straight over her head. Next time it'll be capitals. Platonic female friends are the exception to my rule.
They've just had another huge article about Youtube on the Mail on Sunday, how a journalist got her videos mentioned worldwide, but only by pretending to be a celebrity. Maybe if I pretend to be David Baddiel or Ben Elton with a poor camera some idiot may fall for it. Like people seen by billions would need to go on youtube (except Uri Geller who has). These are the cheating ways to go on, like the Open University of you fail your A levels. Notmally education and fame come about the official and hard way, and I am at least on step one with many more to go. But each step is smaller as you go up one as fame feeds on itself. I've had a need all my life to entertain and share what I do, and that has to be fed somehow. Having been disappointed by many other things I no longer naively expect happiness to come from anything besides major psychic powers but realistically you should never imagine how anything will make you feel until it happens. Total waste of energy to. So I push and poke in the little ways I can, with no more than intuition and the minimum of feedback in each area until maybe one more piece falls into place. I know which one I want the most and it may be possible, but still see many obstacles to it. But like trying to mark your own exams, I don't know what other people want so shouldn't try and guess what will or won't put them off. Certainly not my huge cock anyway (acknowledgements to Ben Elton for that one).
Saturday, October 21, 2006
In my case I have missed too many things to stop now, if I had a say in it. Anyone who even goes back a few entries will see what I missed most, and all the other things will follow. I had aims and covered half of them maybe, and some are impossible but the challenge is finding if so or not. Like all the psychic powers I hope are real. What about the anti-obituary? He didn't do this... The woman who should be named and shamed didn't reply (maybe she has gone somewhere with no computer for a while but in fact she's just blown me out), all the other women I missed out, the 200 or so countries I haven't visited, the celebrities I'd liked to meet, on and on. These create my plans and ambitions for the future, but long term. Short term like someone who has lost their glasses I can only see a few minutes ahead of me if that. I really need to make the most of the freedom and if anyone comes in to help all the better. They rarely do.
I have some major writing projects if I'm stuck, which at least will have a manuscript for my lifetime which some naive publisher may risk investing in one day. But it'll use up a lot of time but eventually be worth it even if never used. And the two women still around are subject to my next moves like a world chess final, one bad move and it's all gone. But unlike chess each player has an even chance of women. These women already know what they want, I just don't know it. My moves simply raise it to the surface sooner or later and like the Spanish waste of time move on and eliminate most of the time. Well, all of it till now. As they say in these parts it's a real pisser. I've given more people my websites this week but as yet had no bites. Most people still prefer the real world to online but I see it as another dimension of the same world. And my largest audience which I have always wanted. What the audience actually wants is a mystery except maybe all blogs have lost readers as people get bored and look elsewhere. But a diary is always the best way to see into a person and that'll never wear off for me.
Friday, October 20, 2006
So, another day and slightly less dead than yesterday. It did end with a bang (enough said) but was deadly dull until then. Today was local shopping (fascinating) with the Friday trip to my mum soon (with camera if light lasts). I'm hoping the radio will call me back now, but Iain Lee prefers cretins so I'm stuck on Clive Bull who fits me far better.
The only move I've made on my personal maintenance is a call to the barber who's booked till next week (no shop anymore), the rest will follow. I can also safely say the bloody bitch from Yorkshire has apparently ignored my email and name calling now seems to be appropriate, to be withdrawn if she's just too busy to reply (some fucking chance...). I still find the odd person I knew on FR but down to the dregs now, and after 5 plus years realised the people reported for getting second chances with lost loves are the exceptions like the youtube members who get in the papers. 99.99% of people with websites are read by a few hard core readers like here (soft core now, most have stopped) and the others are not worth considering. Thank goodness my excursion into real TV has started or I'd never get anywhere otherwise. Well, I now won't have any toilet related crises for a while, paper bleach and spray have been bought at incredibly low prices so at least I can poop in peace. Everyday life, but I ought to have a wife buying these things as well, and using them as just telling people online that I've done daily shopping is hardly living is it?
Being Friday already I can say the week won overall, all my business projects except one came to a happy conclusion, and besides that dental checkup which admittedly will only last 5 minutes I can relax. I don't mind eye tests and it's just a pain finding somewhere new after 15 years plus with the same place. And with no one around I have little else to think about besides these deadly dull issues, and as long as I can see to write and drive I needn't get in a fuss about that either. Sometimes I even bore myself, and the radio haven't called. Half an hour left and I'm going, but I think Iain probably didn't like what I wrote on his website...
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Anyway, that's the day so far, that person from drama classes is daily qualifying for a nastier name, possibly culminating in fucking bitch but maybe then becoming more original such as scum sucking shit for brains, which I heard in a film years ago. Rudeness is one thing that pisses me off and also spreads an attitude by those who use it. I know being nice to people who are a pain encourages them and you get stuck with the sort of people I have who call all hours of the day and night with mental problems (as in crazy and stupid) and want me to sort them out. Like I can sort out my own. But by email? People can't get harrassed by someone just by replying to an email. I could never delete an email addressed to me that was from someone I knew just like that but hundreds I know have. Bastards. So that was another elimination.
I also called the radio yesterday after someone my age said he'd been with a woman 20 years who was 22 years older than him and I said thank goodness it can happen. Never put me off but they were nearly always married so got absolutely nowhere.
Well I have to go to the shops tomorrow (closed today) so there's no point going twice to different ones when I can do it all in one go so that's the final reason stopped. I haven't got any official photos to take now, due to the clocks going back I crammed it all into the last few weeks and did my list to the end. I may move into pornography next though flickr officially won't allow it. Not really, but I bet I'd get more views than I do of bus stops. I see the seeds of madness in today, as I'm free but not if you see what I mean. Like the rainy days on holiday, what the hell do you do? I did two music videos yesterday that may get a few hundred views in a year but none will ever make me famous. And I'd need to play without making mistakes which means I'd have to stick to the easy stuff which is boring. In life you can attempt greater things and make a mess but on stage you have to have mastered it first before you get the credit. Well, I handed today over to higher powers and all I got was an email implying I need to spend hundreds on my house for fire regulations. It sounds wrong to me but I'll have all hell to pay to prove it. I may have wanted something to do but it wasn't that. I hope the next few hours provide something more interesting than being persecuted by government cretins who don't know the difference between a house and an office. Wankers. I rest my case.
Maybe I should ask my readers for suggestions to get more back- I would to the blogs I read but they prefer to write their stuff than go for popularity. I prefer people to want to read and will change things if only I want to read it when I've finished. I can do that on paper if I want to, if I put it online it's for other people to read. If they still do.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
The person from drama classes hasn't replied, she'll get another email soon with my true feelings and can then fuck right off. Why do people join sites to meet old friends and then mostly ignore them? Ignoring emails should be the 11th commandment, there's no excuse if it's someone you know and doesn't even spend any money to reply. So today I drove to Childs Hill to extend my visual record of Finchley Road for Flickr and got some nice shots as usual. The light goes next month so I am clearing as many trips as possible as then it'll be a rarity till March again. I have coaxed a few people to visit my websites in theory but not yet seen a soul arrive. The trouble is so much is more interesting online than here, and when anything interesting is here I post it online anyway, I've got nowhere else to share it at the moment. So there's one interesting woman still around but at a distance. This is a new experience for me as usually they come and go like a meteor flash. This is dragging on but alive and I literally have no idea if she wants more than what there is, ie sod all. But she's still around and knows I do so who can tell.
Well one person signed in yesterday, I think 36 read and didn't as my stats are daily and 20 was the average. It was 50 for most of the first year so I can only think many people have run out of enthusiasm as I trawled hundreds yesterday and most stopped in 2004. Pity as some would have been quite interesting. Apart from one I haven't found a decent new blog for ages. I may have to arrange some comedy routines sometimes, only rehashes of my old ones but how many rude words are there? Unlike musical notes you can't keep rearranging nursery words indefinitely, they have to make sense as well as melody. Imagine the playground songs which are both the source and result of my imagination. Big bums, bubblegum, rude noises and accidental farts with extra. Kids have been singing about this stuff since the stone age, and I apparently got stuck in it. Just how many ways can you describe ordure before you repeat yourself? Droppings, doodah, effluence, leavings, dung, doings, caca, whoopsies, jobbies, cow pancakes, guano, skidmarks, loose motions, excrement and runny business. How many ways can I describe thee while sitting on the pot and making the air smell of poo?
I could just focus on the one thing to become David's toilet blog. Would it gain readers or lose the few I have left? You tell me.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
By Saturday it'll be interesting to see if I've done one or more of my longstanding delayed jobs. My grandma goes potty when I don't have a haircut, so that's hopefully number one and then I need a new optician. Little else to report so far, I visited the gym's other branch as ours is being rewired, it's squeezed along corridors upstairs and nothing like as nice as our one large room in a field. But it has what I need so despite being stuck away I'll try and get in another visit before ours opens on Monday, plus do some work at home with the weights I do have. And I wasn't really tired over the weekend, a bit of a first for some time, so proves it can happen. Otherwise I have my little list that will stop me getting bored this week by doing housework while I'm free besides the photos. All on my own. If I wasn't I wouldn't need to plan so much, or do so much, but the imagination is forced into action for my sanity. That bloody woman from 1979 hasn't replied so I think that's a plan B (tell her my true feelings regardless) so at least she knows the lot whether she knows who I am or not. She may emigrate as a result but as I don't know where she is now it would be a bit of an overreaction. Then following all that I may find a plumber, anything's possible...
Monday, October 16, 2006
Of course they all cost an arm and a leg but they are professional expenses and unavoidable. The rest of the week is currently free besides a few appointments, and whatever plans I have may or may not get done, though a little trip to Finchley Road to complete my visual tour is hopefully the first. My lost love (never found actually) has not replied and I think that's in the bin there, besides my follow up in a couple of weeks. She's even less likely to reply to that but it'll give her something to think about. She must have thought I was a right wanker back then otherwise she would have replied.
Besides that it's an open book. I have another email to send on my project which seems inspired until I get the results of it, I doubt the subject is reading now but just in case I will say no more for now. The other jobs which have been put off are now free to begin, one by one they should happen now as the time is right. I feel like taking a register for who reads this as I've only had one comment in over a month. Some stats tell you who reads from where but mine are complex and vague at the same time. Unless it's been upgraded the number and country is the best it gets, though the number is vague and hard to follow once you see how they get to it. I can't see it including page turns as each page here covers a long time. Unless some of you save me the trouble and check in.
I carry on like a runaway car, hoping I make a soft landing and don't end up in a tree or a river. I think I've got the technique of acceptance pretty well done, I expect little and have little means to aim things anywhere besides where they want to go already. Big deal, if it applies to me it applies to all of us, I was just the one left with all the brains and little else.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
So after 6 years or so one of the nicest women I ever knew signed up on Friends reunited. One I never even tried. Some men see taken women as a challenge, I as a 5' 4'' 19 year old who had begun to come to terms with the fact I stopped growing when most people hadn't even shot up, had no expectation of competing with a probably live in corblimey hooligan (they always are) of the refined graduate I was in love with who was 4 years older than me. So for a year or more I stared and wished while not wasting my time looking an idiot and admitting how I felt to someone who had succeeded at 23 in covering degree job and partner, which I still haven't at 46. Anyway, just finding and emailing anyone there removes the mystery as at least I know they know, and few ever reply and none are single. I think it's 3 days now and no reply and what with broadband most people reply pretty sharpish nowadays. Plus hardly anyone who bothered to reply remembers who I am. I remember nearly everything as if it was yesterday. Many people do. So for all the people who don't they sign up for these places and then get a ton of emails from apparent strangers. Why bother? I never had one in 6 years so that shows they are well shot of me. If they hadn't signed up to a site only for contacting people from the past I could understand the need to look forwards, but why sit on the pot if you aren't going to use it?
So, a disappointment but not one I wasn't prepared for, the relief of her hearing from me is enough and I'll try one more if no reply soon and that's it. And for fuck's sake, this perfectly formed ballerina from 1978 is 50 now already! She may look so different from what I knew as to be positively repellent, as happened once or twice already. But 23 most women look how they will for a long time and she looked perfect. But not for me. I expect her criminal fascination probably gave way to a rich successful professional, probably her boss and already married, and they now have 3 kids going to top universities. She probably went from Highbury or whichever other bedsit land she was in to Highgate or Islington, lives in a million pound terraced house and votes Liberal Democrat. Stereotypes only work as they are based on dominant factors and I am as much of one as anyone else. If I was black or Indian I'd lay it on just as thick as I'm both a performer and proud of my culture. I like a discount as much as any other and am not embarrassed or offended by anyone who guesses that in advance.
Little else to report, few plans for a while besides the junk I mentioned before, and though I continue to meet more of the sort of people I want to online, none comment or are in places we could ever meet. I see it as a sort of genius (OK, geek) club of the world. We are so rare in society we are misunderstood by all the regular guys who are aggressive and uncultured, or work hard, may have complicated professions but memorise the rules while barely understanding them. No one really taught me counselling, I went to college to turn a skill into something people may pay me for. I do exactly the same now I did before I started for friends, I just know the routine now technically as well as intuitively. I became qualified in all ways both so people wouldn't reject my wisdom for being that of an idiot savant, and to earn more. I have never checked if anyone's wisdom had a degree behind it, it's either wisdom or not, but most people assume a degree or more is automatic if you have any brains and its absence excludes you from the club. But anyone with wisdom is capable of getting a degree and not everyone has the time or money to try.
Well, I reckon if my old classmate who won't remember me anyway hasn't replied within a week it's down the toilet time. And if she does I'd say 75% of my guesses will be right and I'll add she has a high powered job and expecting her first grandchild. Don't the conventional want to make you puke sometimes?
Saturday, October 14, 2006
It's been a real week for a change. I had the odd dip in energy (ie almost dying but only temporarily) but got more done than I had for a long while. It was a great relief I saw I can do it all again as I really need to get back in the system if and when I need to. Mainly girlfriend related, though an understanding girlfriend would cover that as well. Little else besides hosting my 4th quiz tomorrow, I wonder how the questions will go down, ie will anyone know the answers? By 4 goes I run out of easier ones and try not to be too obscure, but not crack and do easy ones instead which anyone can do. The phone turned out to be mine only, and they won't be here for days. Utter wankers. I was told I'd be credited and I bleeding well hope so.
Nothing more ahead, haircut on the close horizon, maybe followed by an eye test (in separate location, pity the same person can't do both) and god forbid a tooth checkup. We all need the same maintenance but I've reached the point where I'd be the savage castaway on a desert island and look the part. Who damn well cares? I still bath and wash my hair, the rest can go hang really but I'd lose my dentist at least if I did that in reality (new rules you see, didn't need to go in the past). I can see OK and my hair looks fine except to my grandma so I still have to follow the orders or I really get a hard time.
I thought I'd let the squirrel do the rest of the talking, as I follow the railway lines for my train picture group I see many little things worth taking as well. I'd passed this road many times but never stopped to look.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Tomorrow is my day off this week, I may take some pictures and otherwise expect it'll be an internet day, though I have a little errand I should do locally. I admit I've given up all ideas of fame from the internet. Youtube features a few from millions of members, and blogs are rarely quoted in the media, as many as lottery tickets are picked out.
So I do it for the few readers (maybe they are many but very quiet ones), and so far life has been linear for a few years, starting in manure and continuing towards the whole heap. Not a diversion into the clean line (as they say in rally driving) but pointing in a direction that seems inevitable and exclusive. I know there are alternatives, at any time I could shift to another direction towards heaven (in comparison) but my current female friend (literally, more's the pity) is so unavailable her time is given in tiny packages online, by phone and once a year in person. It's not all her fault, her situation prevents much more at the moment but it's such a waste of potential. We'll be pensioners before we can get it together but I can hardly see me meeting anyone else by then the way things are going. So I follow railway lines with my camera and take pictures of passing buses on the way. Like that could make a living for anyone. But we all need some activities and those are the best available.
People are beginning to worry about my health. Stress can make you tired, so can cancer. I have no idea, except cancer is usually progressive and my tiredness is pretty consistent. If I want I can go for a blood test. I don't want. If there was anything wrong with it I doubt much could be done so why bother? I have a few medical interests and if there was anything physical it would be unlikely to be trivial so why look? And I had it 12 years ago and it went so there is a precedent, and the tests were taken then and nothing was found. Maybe a total coincidence and not relevant to now, but I will be a wimp and look the other way. And there are gaps in the problems, the consistency is the frequency of attacks rather than duration. Having help with everyday activities would be the best treatment and there's precious little of that. But people shouldn't panic about my health, wait till it happens to them and they can panic about it, I can panic about my own enough for everyone else. Meanwhile our local phone network has been down 2 days and counting. I have had to call people on my mobile and there's no way I'll get a penny of that back. Bastards.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Another day goes by, it's been fairly busy this week, productive and I'm knackered already, no obvious cause. Just took some interesting pictures of the railway line between Golders Green and Brent Cross, ending with some classics of Brent Cross station which I probably haven't been in since 1976 (as my friend lived there and I had a motorbike after that). It's one of the few architecturally designed stations besides the art deco mainly on the Piccadilly Line (Hanger Lane, Southgate etc) but in classical Greek style, and very nice inside, as you can see.
Besides that I just saw England lose to Croatia 2-0 (they were 3rd in the world cup in 1998, not bad for a country about the size of Wales) and that's about it. I have at least found some interest in life this year, I've met a number of nice people, created a lot and done just enough work to not waste all my time. Making the best of defined limits is a challenge to everyone, and mine change constantly within the main one of being alone. I realise there are no solutions, if you're in a cage then you can only work within it. And of course only other people have the key and choose if you'll ever be let out. More projects are continuing my photo trips, trains, buses and Finchley Road among others. Finchley Road is the second road in my heart, after the North Circular. It joins it at Henlys Corner as it reaches Finchley so changes its name, and ends in St Johns Wood. The Northern part from Swiss Cottage is my bit, one of my best friends lived there for many years and then I worked in Temple Fortune a few miles up from there. I also spent a week or so in the butcher's near Henlys Corner when I was 16, a dreadful job and one I was happy to lose.
One by one, like everywhere else the shops change, though the owners often change while keeping the same shops. WH Smiths, the fishmongers and Frohweins kosher butchers are the few still there all my life (and that's a fair time) as I've been going there as long as I remember. My other best friend lived round the back and it was his shop I worked in, until the family left for warmer parts and intend to return in 2009 (like I'll hold my breath). I went to the food places every week for years every week for my dinner when I was there (they used to provide it but we had a problem one evening, long story). Once all the Indian restaurants (two or three) closed down and three Turkish ones opened up. All or nothing, and little choice. There are still no Indians there but I rarely need to go now so it makes little difference to me now.
Well, a little trip round my patch, given the money (£250,000 plus) I'd move back round there, I'm only here as I didn't earn as much as my parents (double income as well) so had no choice but to get a nice place in a cheap area. Indoors it's fine, the local area is nice, but it's not NW11. No class sadly. So I have my dreams and they are probably bound to remain so, and I make my little trips to NW11 to keep in touch with it. What a life...
Otherwise I am in a routine which changes less than any other I've come across. Given a situation where I make the best of a little opportunity there's little else I can do. I remember a past where I had everything but a degree (I was a teenager after all) and alternated with and without a girlfriend. Now I have the degree and a house and that's it. All the people have done what they do to everyone when they leave home/get kicked out. Leave them to their own devices. My device gathers dust where I sit and comes out only for special occasions when an ex girlfriend can't do without what she became used to. If you take any husband and remove his wife I expect he would feel much as I do. It's normal. I had no wife so I have to go back further to my family, which was split in two in 1981 and like a stool limped along on two legs instead of being steady on three. Then it was left with one and I hop until I find another pair of legs to make it stable again. And they have to fit with mine, not just any old pair thank you.
Maybe tomorrow I'll take some photos, I looked around the map and have a few more trips set up, and I've also finally completed my shopping requirements, the last via the internet. The diary has been busy compared to the last couple of weeks, including some dreadful arrangements but nothing unusual I'm not used to. Maybe that's one cause of homicide, then ultimate solution. In comparison telling someone to get lost doesn't sound so heartless...
You can see why I resort to the supernatural, anything has to be an escape to reality and it isn't all a load of crap. So far despite existing none makes much difference to life, I can find out information before I'm told but it's not actually useful. One piece of crap I'll leave you with is from a couple of people who said they could bend metal like Uri Geller but didn't see the point. It's attitudes like that that keep us in the dark ages. Unless they're lying about being able to...
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Other than that I believe as long as I live alone my life will not change. I'd thought of infinite ways to cheat the system to get someone else in my house, even using a small part for business but it's all or nothing. No wife no company, end of. Even if I had a spare room who would waste money using it when they could hire a proper office? So I simply continue with the inadequate as, as Buddhists say, it's all there is so I may as well accept it. Compare it to Daniel and the lion. The lion had a thorn in its paw, it couldn't take it out but a human could. Imagine having a thorn no one can remove, you just have to live with it until it randomly falls out. That's what the philosophers expect us to do. I know no philosophies which try and reverse the polarity to fix the situation, they all say 'What you can't change accept'. The actual mechanism is only enlightenment. Unless you are already enlightened you can't accept pain of any sort, and when you're enlightened you apparently barely feel it. That will therefore not apply to all but a handful of people on earth as it simply doesn't work otherwise. Another theory bites the dust. OK, by feeling physical pain and not resisting it it does seem to reduce at times, but I doubt that could be extended much further.
I often feel these are not written by me, but for you. By someone without a keyboard. So I am inspired with ideas and because other people may be helped by my ideas I am the vehicle used. Besides ideas that build up before I write once I open a box I rarely pause or think, it just flows and needs no changes. And I am not rambling as most of my ideas work. Though I know no remedies to the ills of life I seem to be able to arrange them very nicely, like a turd sorter. The Bristol 7 colour faecal chart is a similar example, used by doctors worldwide. I take the shit, sort it out and present it in diagram form. It's still shit and still stinks but at least everyone can now understand it. Great. It seems I've been chosen to explain how clearly awful life can be. Because life has apparently clear limits of power I investigate and report what we can't do, rather than what we can. Of course we know what we can do as if we want to (provided we live in a free country) we do it. The rest we want but can't. That's where I am now. I have run out of voluntary activities besides a few photos and other creations I can't sell. Everything I want can't be done by choice, at least not my own. So even though my view of how I'd like to rearrange my life none is within my power to do, even outside the supernatural level. If everything was fine, as it used to be, then who cares, but when it drifts into the doldrums where nothing happens besides birds shitting on you you need the wind to get you out, not your brains. And no one controls the wind, not even god. You see my problem.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Other changes, none would ever happen. Politicians are voted in to make our lives better but they usually make them worse as they are not there to help us. So they make each aspect of our lives harder until we become mentally and physically ill. People can't afford to travel or park, buying a house now uses most of an income (lucky I did that long ago, I couldn't now), and every effort has been made to restrict every activity except gambling which is evil. That is biblical, the bible says judge a tree by its fruit. Tony Blair has allowed public and private transport costs to rocket, meaning you have to be rich to travel, and freed gambling to be allowed round the clock with far fewer restrictions. The fact gambling is illegal in 48 American states tells us a lot about the differences. They live their philosophy, we are run by business. Everyone else just serves to make them as rich as possible which in turn pays even more tax. I'd change all that.
I would only ever leave London if I was married and probably rich. It's a different country almost once you add 'shire' to your address, and having tried a year alone in the desert areas, would never do that again. If you spend long enough to become part of a community (impossible in London) you have a far better quality of life, though I haven't seen a single area outside London better than what we have here except not overcrowded. I could try the middle of Kent possibly and that's so remote I'd probably never travel past Orpington. But it's certainly the nicest place I've seen over a wide area in the provinces and on a good day the new A2 (actually reaches inner London, just, now) can get you at least to the suburbs in an hour. Then another hour and congestion charge to go any further north, so I wouldn't bother at all. But I can't see it happening. I'd need to live on an island to avoid the real stresses around here where there simply weren't the crowds we have now which probably do reach as far as Dartmoor, which I haven't seen since 1989. They've probably built a huge mall in Princetown and queue for 3 miles to get into Plymouth. Everywhere else I've seen this century has gone that way, Brighton probably always was but all the towns in Surrey are now clones of London and they are the richest shitholes in the country. Lewes, Burgess Hill, Horsham, sound like places (and are) from between the wars British childrens' books. Billy Bunter, PG Wodehouse, Enid Blyton. They probably were nice middle class areas then, now it's chav central and council blocks surrounding the indoor Milton Keynes style shopping areas with Primark as the cathedral at the centre, which all appear to be modelled on Wembley Central. Hence the difficulty in escape. Go to Kingswood, you think you're in paradise for a mile or two and then you hit some crap shopping centre a short distance away which is the only place among 10000 identical places you can buy anything for sensible prices. If you stick with the few remaining local shops that aren't estate agents or posh interiors you can pay almost £1 for a tin of Whiskas. So even in the semi rural areas you end up having to go native if you want to buy anything you can afford.
I'd change all that, turn the clock back to about 1955 and that would include the population. These places have mushroomed as the people did, and can turn over millions from having the equivalent density of London in places which used to have roads where you could park free and never had a traffic jam. Woking is now like Barking and Watford is like Wood Green. Totally down the toilet and spreading the chav town centre in every direction. I can imagine going to Totnes and finding the High Street's been pedestrianised, there's no parking and everyone goes to the mall on the A38 anyway. It seems slowly but surely each individual town is being turned into Stevenage or Romford, and each suburb resembles a council estate more and more despite the fact council estates are almost obsolete. I expect the millionaires (probably becoming billionaires now) who run Hampstead will manage to keep it immune to such changes as they always have to now, but will probably extend residents parking to residents visiting. Don't laugh, there's at least one place in Britain where the public aren't allowed and it's as big as Hampstead, which is St George's Hill in Weybridge. It won't be long before others catch on.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
If by the end of the day one area, eg my desk is different it will be a bonus. I've sent a few business emails that may bear fruit, and the ridiculous job of clearing my hotmail chain letters sent by friends (ie read or delete) is also on the system. Maybe after yesterday's rejection I'll call Iain Lee again just for the heck of it. Otherwise the day will drift on as always and as soon as I start having fun the time has passed and it's over already and I've only done a few jobs and ended up playing quizzes or looking at model cars online as usual. But given the incredibly limited selection of options who would do much else?
So, could anyone feel guilty for such a life? And if so why? These circumstances weren't my choice and all efforts made to leave them were met with rejection so big deal. Little else today, so far. What more can I say?
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
It's not just me, I've met a few people in a similar position who react the same way as me. Without people around, family, friends and community, we resort to things and places. You can go to the park or spend hours on a computer, but without someone to share it with is two dimensional. If there's one area I am normal it's in being sociable. The asexuals and singles by choice are, in my opinion, weird. Why shun the very people who create the quality of life? Fear of course. People can hurt you, so avoid them. But if you avoid them you guarantee you have nothing. Bad deal. So if they want to be alone let them, but don't criticise me for not wanting it. There are definitely certain levels of personal development and they are on the lowest rung. Don't listen to me, listen to most psychologists. I'm sure any of the people haters I describe wouldn't have lasted long on my counselling course as they weeded out all the head cases one by one, and whatever happened in those two years I survived so someone in the know let me through. And they watched us like a hawk, including four days of residential courses so they saw us in all roles. Whatever weirdness I have doesn't stop me doing a good job of counselling. And of course whatever we can do for others, most of those can't be done to ourselves but need someone else. I have gone round in the complete circle.
I am now investigating the boundaries of my control, as it's been implied (no details given) I may have a wee bit more power over my life than I think. Each effort provides different rewards in quality and duration. A trip to the shops gives me some essential but boring supplies that may last a few days of a few months depending if food or not. My photos are taken, posted and printed, then forgotten about in the main. All non-people related. I also have a little project found on another website where someone claims all our problems are caused by subconsciously physically resisting bad feelings. Now Nick Roach simplifies this. He passes over resistance and just says if you watch all feelings they will eventually dissolve, not that mine ever do. But what on earth authority does anyone have to make such claims? And if you resist subconsiously without a direct method you can't stop at will as your will was never involved. A puzzle I am working on. It explains many apparently nonsensical theories but I still can't really accept it unless proved in a more scientific way.
Today was what In would call just adequate. There's little else to worry about but doesn't mean that'll last, on past experience. But I can't see any alternative routes that are better. If only the wrong people want to see me and the rest make themselves incognito there's nothing I can do about it. People dying is half the story over time as the others just avoid you. Same result in the end. So I'm having to look at every part of my life and analyse whether there's a thing I can do to improve it, but so far the answer is to take each day as it comes and there is no formula. Prove me wrong...
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Anyway, besides known history there is little else. Two workmen are avoiding me as pipes and roofs are leaking and there’s little more I can do there unless it got worse and I employed unknowns. Not that many exist, when I needed an electrician they suddenly all went away when I called. As I haven’t yet dared make the dental appointment there’s nothing on this week, good bad or otherwise. Last week produced no more than a few minor shopping trips and not one of my friends materialised. I expect no more this week or ever really. Now if I wait till June 2009 my friends should be back from America, but may live 30 miles away. I can’t wait… No new projects either. The house, now occupied for 11 years is as it should be more or less, only large items need moving and most have nowhere else to go so will have to stay in the spare room. But no rearranging or tidying is needed otherwise, and even the garden’s fairly ok after all the hot summer days to fix it up. I really now believe everyone deserves happiness whether they work for it or not. Well I put in enough work till my last job ended, followed by a couple of years frantic studying and job applications. I actually did all the right things and got this.
So each week offers less and less, and then what? I’ve been told I’m of vital importance for the alien cause, but have no solid evidence they are here at all. Plenty of telepathy from my subjects but no more. I apparently need to be regressed myself before anything will come through, which I am about to have done, but despite a pile of assorted stories pointing to something weird happening all official channels close and deny it. There are certainly no other psychic investigations left to follow up, the last few ending in fraud and lies, and nothing new besides an unreadable PDF file about enlightenment which is supposed to offer a scientific description of it. But even if it’s real it’ll still take years for it to happen and that’s for the select few, India and Hampstead are full of followers who have practiced whatever they were taught for 20 plus years and it’ll never happen. Others have visited Tony Parsons once and said it happened, and it isn’t automatically connected with years of work, but it’s not up to us how and when it happens. But they are the exceptions and I know what I need to do and will always do it regardless as if I don’t I’ll think I missed trying. And meanwhile, as they said on Monty Python, nothing happened.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Other potential is my halting TV career, but it’s a long drawn out process and pretty unpredictable.
So having established the little positive I can squeeze out of the stone I call life, what else is left? A routine designed to occupy my idle mind and body to stop me totally becoming a recluse. I actually have little against being a recluse, it’s both other people who criticise and required activities I’m forced to do but would rather not, or get others to do for me. I’ve had half a life (using actuarial figures) of activity and worn out that need almost totally. There’s little new or fascinating left out there any more. And with broadband much of the world is in my office. Maybe there’s a website for recluses, and I won’t have to constantly make excuses for myself as they’ll understand. The world, certainly the urban one, has stopped being civilised. Traffic jams, parking restrictions and crappy shops which are repeated every two miles and in America, dodgy kids and illegal immigrants hanging about, incredible unregulated densities of new buildings, ridiculous queues, closed hospitals, and any other aspect of cities I’ve missed have made staying at home an art form in avoidance. There’s little out there worth seeing, and when I visit places from my past half have no parking, and the others just keep their atmosphere. But I know no one left there, I can walk around old roads and shops but none of the people are there I knew. An empty illusion of the past with little connection in reality.
The only crime I’ve ever been guilty of is avoiding pain, in my case including hard work. That didn’t mean I managed it until recently, and that wasn’t my choice but the people who rejected all my applications. I don’t believe that in itself is wrong as labour saving is a technology in itself designed to make our lives better not worse. Hard work is for the uncivilised, any real work that has to be done should be limited per week but in fact the worst jobs usually have the longest hours as well. Pardon me for not wanting to join in. I aimed to become a sheep and due to 1000 circumstances was only allowed in the flock for a few months. I never returned since 1989 and no loss to me. 8 years later and my work career was over, possibly permanently. Currently worldwide the dropouts amount to very few, a percentage probably in the .001s. Few understand us and even fewer approve, but I made it, almost inevitably, having had a fear of being out of my depth workwise since infants school. Being married and looking after the children is my only possible compromise that will suit everyone. OK, sooner or later I will probably become immune to the world of work but that will be marginal and possibly not permanent as the capital slowly uses up. And that’s not even guaranteed so not worth thinking about. Only now. And my only possible project is to meet other dropouts and promote our cause. Better than being persecuted for it.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
And looking back on one of the quietest weeks of my life, though I avoid work (though not the resulting money) like the plague there's so little else it's a void whichever way I look. I do hear the tiny amount of business I do (paid and unpaid) is of such quality that it is valuable in itself, but a) that's for other people, and b) it doesn't fill in the rest of my time in any useful way. And I know telling people won't make a thing change but I just report what is. I met one nice new person at least, so they do exist within my range, but that was it. I barely left the house besides usual visits to family, I bought the bare minimum of stuff for the house and am now almost out of meals. That's all I eat, ready meals, as I refuse to do anything more complicated than eggs or spaghetti and see little point in changing that. Salad tastes OK but is such a bitch to wash, dry and cut into pieces I may be dead before I complete one. And if you spend £8 a kilo for salad bags (still usually unwashed) half of it goes black after 3 days as they put in so much.
The radio can currently only turn up the infinitely overrated Nick Abbott, who has an unknown female sidekick he is waffling with about tabloid trash subjects. It's that or listening to Mike Dickin talk about parking tickets. What a choice. Hell? I needn't die, it's all here. I can't even get a map with an escape route, as if there is one someone still has to create it. Meanwhile it feels like my time is being so wasted I may never use any of it usefully again, I seem not to have last week and no more ahead. Apparently.