It's my party and I'll swear if I want to

It seems because there are few restrictions on my time I seem to have gone out of control. Like any other addict I've become addicted to time. Not hard to explain, once I am using my time I don't want to stop, and keep doing things far too late. Once I find something interesting to do I have nothing telling me to stop so I don't. One reason I'm probably tired.

Anyway, I got caught in a major way last night and without a conductor of sorts doubt I'll be able to control this very much and will just have to live with the consequences. Well I don't like moaning but besides not having enough sleep am pissing around watching TV and putting more crap on the internet as that's all there is to do full stop. Normally watching a decent video or the like would be OK if with someone else, but I just sit there eating and drawing pictures with the cat on my lap as life passes another day and I get absolutely nowhere. Because I've had so little for so long I'm actually scared if life improved on the outside I'd still feel exactly the same, and without something to test it I'll never know. Besides having an occasional dream where one or another ambition is fulfilled as I just did, where I do feel as good as I'd hope, there is nothing actual to test it. The TV appearance would have ranked on a 9/10 (not 10 as on Sky) and sadly when life puts all your eggs in one basket it just as easily takes the basket away and all the eggs are broken. No eggs, no basket and lots of time with only making my offerings to thie internet like savages sacrifice animals to god on the altar.

Having only had one friend available to get me out of these situations who may as well be dead as live in America for the difference it makes means no one else can arrive to break the monotony. The few people who are about are more boring than this so I try not to encourage them. One repeats the same mindless questions for hours which the average 3 year old would already understand, another the same stories over and over again without pausing for hours, and the third only keeps in contact via the phone just because he lives across London. Is this a punishment? It can't be, as bad karma is just as godly as good karma as the same process creates both. No, it's just how it is and with no point to it can last the rest of my life. Sometimes I expect to get spotted by someone with media influence, if I've been told yet again my stuff has a profound element in it and should be published. But without the connections it's not going to happen. Being lawyers my parents couldn't get me anywhere in my career as you're either qualified or not. In acting and media anyone can succeed as long as they ahve a friend on the inside. If you can read you can do it, as half of them use an autocue, and if you can write the editor will do enough to make whatever you offer into something readable.

And I don't expect too much. If you have enough talent why not have fame? And all the other jerks are married so why not me? I have been told unless a moron marries another moron (as one couple I know, though he won't get married) and weirdos marry other weirdos I am aiming too high. Because my apparent intelligence is balanced by a social awareness of a low-grade autistic it means any normal woman will not last long as soon as she sees the signs of difference. I still wonder if I'll be famous once I'm dead, so I'll have the total indignity of spending a life pushing my creations and never know they were liked. It really would fit perfectly with the past record, where I always fall short of the winning post. Freinds reunited is one example. If someone joins it means they want to get in touch with people from school. In 5 years I haven't had one email from the hundreds of people who know me, I've sent hundreds. I was no different at school to now except I had no discretion at all then and spoke as it came into my head. Now I save that for blogs and am fairly diplomatic in person, not calling anyone a wog till they've left the room. Not that I'm a racist but I just like the word. People can call me a yid if they want to, as I am. Big deal, I may be a yid, but I'm a bloody good one. And that's one thing you never (well I never and I suspect I've read more than most) read on the internet. People say far worse in private but a hint of racism in public and you'll be shot as fast as John Charles de Menezes (serves them right for shooting someone with an unpronounceable name as it returns to haunt them every other news report).

When all is said and done it's not what you call people, it's how you treat them that counts. If I had a business or children I'd be far more concerned if I interviewed a criminal or they met someone from a council estate than anyone's race. If you go to a school with the cleverest kids from all races you learn to segregate people by intellect and class than race. And that's simply wanting to be with people like you, not really because there's anything wrong with the others. But as I said yesterday people ought to be allowed to use language freely as a word can't really have any power in itself. Use fuck enough times and the power is lost, as any other. Save a word for when it's needed but don't make it history. It's because words like wog create reactions in some people that paedpophiles would that I feel a duty to use it. It's like the Welsh speakers who probably hate the language and never really use it unless English people are around, but insist on keeping it alive. I'm like that with my bad words. I may never use them in conversation but defend their right to exist so feel bound to mention them somewhere now and then or the thought police will have won.

So, my campaign against political correctness continues, and though the figures add each day I still wonder of more than two people read any of this.