Why am I writing here? Not because I have a reason, but just like Mt Everest, because it's there.
I have also just written a small piece on grabbing onto every fragment of connections to other people when you're living alone, and wondering where to put it. No, not into my rectum as three of you are already shouting at the screen (and one would have posted as a comment had I not saved her the effort) but online.
Basically it states that as I live alone not through choice, I cling on to any connection that makes it seem someone else is in my house when in fact they're not. This only applies to friends and family as I discovered with tenants it's better to be alone than with the wrong people. Same goes for girlfriends...
So traces of other people make me feel less alone. If I can't do much to have a real one in the friends or family category that's all there will be indefinitely. I remember the shock I felt on moving in to my first flat when for the first time in my life nothing there belonged to anyone else. 17 years later though I initially got used to that I've now entered another phase of realising the possible eternity of the situation and realising it isn't what I want. So I think of the secondhand elements that give you the impression someone's coming back or there when in fact they're not. Other people's things, writing on your pieces of paper and notebooks, hearing people next door are all ways it seems you aren't totally and permanently alone but I can't even control that. We have stored friend's items sometimes if they were moving or travelling around, but I haven't space where I am now even if someone wanted me to. The old guy in the adjoining house who just died was silent to me except for about three times, one when he was having his house rewired! The house has just been sold but I hope there aren't nutters or screaming kids as you can have negative noises as well, like the wankers who moved next door in my family house and spent thousands replacing the kit the last people just spent thousands on before they moved with drills and hammers, up till midnight for over a year, plus two yowling brats. That is not a pretty prospect and where I live is a mixture between honest hard working people and pimps. After 10 years next to the former I hope it's not my turn for someone dodgy as I'm only attached to another house on one side so it's rather important they aren't the fussy type or dubious.
I do wonder if I'm weird (anonymoushaha please don't rise to the bait) or many others forced to live alone miss other people around and read notes scrawled on pieces of paper with people's names and phone numbers on they wrote years ago for you as replacements for the real person? It's only a natural human need, and I believe one behind the escalation of my own mental state's decline as it is definitely a set up to stretch the most equable person, which I never was. I was always able to return to a comfortable and welcoming house after a hard day at work or any other battlefield, but when that ended I still coped after moving a few times to find somewhere I felt I could settle. The trouble was when I encountered similar stresses to those at home I was on my own and one by one this ate into any defences and left me vulnerable and needed tablets to replace the previous comfort of a family. Quite logical really. I know I'm sensitive but would rather be creative and sensitive than calm and dull. No one's going to remember me if I become like the run of the mill and didn't spout all sorts of nonsense, some of which was worth listening to and keeping. But sensitivity comes as part of that package, and I doubt can be separated so I can keep the good bits alone, it would be just like having a lobotomy. So if I'm stuck in one way, I try and move in another and hope people will understand if I'm having a bad day or week as I wouldn't ever wish it on them so they could understand what I can go through.
Depressing? Not really, it's just another aspect of my life and one that pops up from time to time in different forms but does change over periods. But being alone isn't a personal quality so will always get to me when I'm down or vulnerable as long as it's the case. Knowing I'd feel better if some remnants of other people were around is sad but true, and if I have the guts I'll post this somewhere more public and see what they say. I know where it'll go now, so I'll go and tell my aunties over the water as usual. Bye then.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Friday, October 28, 2005
Life vs enlightenment
God help you guys now I've got broadband- this thing's on all day and I just have to come in and click to write here instead of dialling up, waiting, waiting a bit more and then loading the create page. This took me three seconds just now instead of maybe five minutes plus. In absolute time, not a lot, but as a proportion it's hundreds of times quicker (as I've added the few minutes to dial and connect to the extra seconds to load each page, for the pedants out there).
Anyway, I've done little of note today but used the time at home for one client, mowed the lawn, washed yet more sheets (lot 3 from 4 I suspect, boring but can't be selective in my reporting), and nearly finished my first pen and watercolour picture which will be posted here next week. I also said about seeing a friend regularly since my regular haunt closed due to emigration. Instead I see my mother or grandma most nights, they're both alone as well and are now only too pleased to see me, so as long as I've got someone to visit I won't mind too much not following my previous routine of 30 years.
Otherwise I'm practising not looking ahead, it's a lifetime's bad habit and only leads to worry, and achieves absolutely nothing. I have to pull myself up every time and stop when I catch myself doing it and most of the things I fear the most don't happen and vice versa, the worst things are nearly always a surprise (as are the best). We can't control any of it, and becoming fed up with such chaos is probably the reason many others like myself are drawn towards the promises of enlightenment. I've crossed a barrier there as well, thank goodness. My last barrier left is believing it exists at all. Like anyone born missing a sense, you only trust others have something you have no concept of, and hearing the peace and silence behind our being is the nearest we know tells me even less as why would anyone want 'nothing' all the time? So it can't really be that, just a bad description of something almost impossible to put into words. So any teacher is judged not on the results I get from their teaching, but whether there is really something they are teaching at all. And that means I now have no doubts about my own teacher's teaching, as as long as enlightenment is a real state, I won't get there any quicker with anyone else. What I follow now is the best way for me and has unloaded all my intellectual baggage previously collected around it, as if unless I could juggle all these weird concepts at once it couldn't happen. But that's not the case. You experience it with your awareness, not your mind. That's all I'm told you need to get to that state, and add myself 'if it exists'.
Much like the alleged alien abductees I interview, there's no more evidence for that than enlightenment. In the case of the aliens, if they are really abducting people they choose to hide and we can't do a thing about it. But enlightenment has been described in the same way from the first vedic texts thousands of years ago. And meditation and weightlifting produces gradual results with regular practice, and I presume whatever some teachers say, it's the same with enlightenment. You can't give up if you've started that path as there may be no signs at all despite working at it for years. Nick Roach says it took him 13 years of regular practice to reach a constant state, though shifts occurred before that. So if my own teacher had to struggle and not give up for 13 years with one teacher, that's the best example I've got to follow, and though I've followed other teaching for 8 years I've only focused on this for a year so may have some way to go. A little shift would be nice, (all the coincidences are meant to be part of it, though fascinating don't make me feel any different), and if I had a few I'd be in no doubt what lay ahead, and would probably be almost there anyway at that stage.
So, my next project in life as opposed to inner work is earning some money. I've been more or less broke now since May, and I'm looking ahead and realising something has to be done as nothing is guaranteed ahead. No full time work for me, long past that malarkey and would heartily recommend a three day basic week for everyone, especially as when we had it 30 years ago people crammed a week's work into a few days and little time was wasted as a result, proven by production figures. House prices of course would have to fall as if everyone earned around 40% less the whole economy would have to shift in response, but unemployment would compensate by sucking in many more workers to fill the space left by increasing the workforce by 40%. And yes, I did study economics just long enough to justify these calculations. They both work and show radical policies are there but inertia keeps us in the same practices as in the industrial revolution more or less. Estonia has just brought in a 17% rate of income tax for everyone, and the admin savings alone plus the fact no one can avoid tax as there are no exemptions means they are now taking more than they did earlier. A few countries are closely watching and even a few of our own Tories are considering trying a similar thing. At present most jobs are 40-50 hours a week, and the few part time are for secretarial or other jobs only women with kids are expected to take, not for me. If all jobs were part time I'd do more or less anything I was able to do as long as it was easy to get to, as that's what I did till I was getting on for 40. But in the real world if you don't fit in, you fuck off. Literally. These exploitative wankers who are stuck in the rut of conformity see a male graduate apply for a part time clerical job, piss themselves and while throwing the screwed up application in the bin, laugh out loud 'Fuck off!'. This happened to me about 400 times between jobs in the last 13 years or so, and as now am desperate for money all the ghosts of the past have come back to haunt me. Of course capability has nothing to do with it. I'm well marketable for writing, as well as having pictures in a gallery, as long as I do it for nothing, and I've only rejected playing the piano for money as when I have it's taken all the fun out of something I do for pleasure. But ask for money up front to do exactly the same thing (as I have been for a couple of years) and you're back to 'fuck off' territory. This also applies in counselling, where a sizeable proportion of job ads are for volunteers. I literally know no other profession (minimum two-three years part time study, average degree plus three years part time plus continuing education) where you'd even see one ad for voluntary workers- dentists, accountants, can you imagine? You're on a low income, don't worry, we'll give you two gold crowns for £20, I'll put back something into society as I earn (as dentists do) £100,000 a year. Now it's my turn, fuck off!
Anyway, I've done little of note today but used the time at home for one client, mowed the lawn, washed yet more sheets (lot 3 from 4 I suspect, boring but can't be selective in my reporting), and nearly finished my first pen and watercolour picture which will be posted here next week. I also said about seeing a friend regularly since my regular haunt closed due to emigration. Instead I see my mother or grandma most nights, they're both alone as well and are now only too pleased to see me, so as long as I've got someone to visit I won't mind too much not following my previous routine of 30 years.
Otherwise I'm practising not looking ahead, it's a lifetime's bad habit and only leads to worry, and achieves absolutely nothing. I have to pull myself up every time and stop when I catch myself doing it and most of the things I fear the most don't happen and vice versa, the worst things are nearly always a surprise (as are the best). We can't control any of it, and becoming fed up with such chaos is probably the reason many others like myself are drawn towards the promises of enlightenment. I've crossed a barrier there as well, thank goodness. My last barrier left is believing it exists at all. Like anyone born missing a sense, you only trust others have something you have no concept of, and hearing the peace and silence behind our being is the nearest we know tells me even less as why would anyone want 'nothing' all the time? So it can't really be that, just a bad description of something almost impossible to put into words. So any teacher is judged not on the results I get from their teaching, but whether there is really something they are teaching at all. And that means I now have no doubts about my own teacher's teaching, as as long as enlightenment is a real state, I won't get there any quicker with anyone else. What I follow now is the best way for me and has unloaded all my intellectual baggage previously collected around it, as if unless I could juggle all these weird concepts at once it couldn't happen. But that's not the case. You experience it with your awareness, not your mind. That's all I'm told you need to get to that state, and add myself 'if it exists'.
Much like the alleged alien abductees I interview, there's no more evidence for that than enlightenment. In the case of the aliens, if they are really abducting people they choose to hide and we can't do a thing about it. But enlightenment has been described in the same way from the first vedic texts thousands of years ago. And meditation and weightlifting produces gradual results with regular practice, and I presume whatever some teachers say, it's the same with enlightenment. You can't give up if you've started that path as there may be no signs at all despite working at it for years. Nick Roach says it took him 13 years of regular practice to reach a constant state, though shifts occurred before that. So if my own teacher had to struggle and not give up for 13 years with one teacher, that's the best example I've got to follow, and though I've followed other teaching for 8 years I've only focused on this for a year so may have some way to go. A little shift would be nice, (all the coincidences are meant to be part of it, though fascinating don't make me feel any different), and if I had a few I'd be in no doubt what lay ahead, and would probably be almost there anyway at that stage.
So, my next project in life as opposed to inner work is earning some money. I've been more or less broke now since May, and I'm looking ahead and realising something has to be done as nothing is guaranteed ahead. No full time work for me, long past that malarkey and would heartily recommend a three day basic week for everyone, especially as when we had it 30 years ago people crammed a week's work into a few days and little time was wasted as a result, proven by production figures. House prices of course would have to fall as if everyone earned around 40% less the whole economy would have to shift in response, but unemployment would compensate by sucking in many more workers to fill the space left by increasing the workforce by 40%. And yes, I did study economics just long enough to justify these calculations. They both work and show radical policies are there but inertia keeps us in the same practices as in the industrial revolution more or less. Estonia has just brought in a 17% rate of income tax for everyone, and the admin savings alone plus the fact no one can avoid tax as there are no exemptions means they are now taking more than they did earlier. A few countries are closely watching and even a few of our own Tories are considering trying a similar thing. At present most jobs are 40-50 hours a week, and the few part time are for secretarial or other jobs only women with kids are expected to take, not for me. If all jobs were part time I'd do more or less anything I was able to do as long as it was easy to get to, as that's what I did till I was getting on for 40. But in the real world if you don't fit in, you fuck off. Literally. These exploitative wankers who are stuck in the rut of conformity see a male graduate apply for a part time clerical job, piss themselves and while throwing the screwed up application in the bin, laugh out loud 'Fuck off!'. This happened to me about 400 times between jobs in the last 13 years or so, and as now am desperate for money all the ghosts of the past have come back to haunt me. Of course capability has nothing to do with it. I'm well marketable for writing, as well as having pictures in a gallery, as long as I do it for nothing, and I've only rejected playing the piano for money as when I have it's taken all the fun out of something I do for pleasure. But ask for money up front to do exactly the same thing (as I have been for a couple of years) and you're back to 'fuck off' territory. This also applies in counselling, where a sizeable proportion of job ads are for volunteers. I literally know no other profession (minimum two-three years part time study, average degree plus three years part time plus continuing education) where you'd even see one ad for voluntary workers- dentists, accountants, can you imagine? You're on a low income, don't worry, we'll give you two gold crowns for £20, I'll put back something into society as I earn (as dentists do) £100,000 a year. Now it's my turn, fuck off!
Testing
What am I testing? Yes, after 5 years (almost six) on a 56K modem at 9.20 this morning (after booking a PM visit) my new broadband was installed, and worked for a whole eight hours before crashing, causing a half hour call to India who said the external power supply was fucked (no, she didn't actually say that word exactly), and they'd have to come on Saturday and fix it. For some reason (naivete?) when I came home tonight I fired it all up again 'in case' and it worked as if nothing had happened. I really missed the idea of not having it for almost two days though there was sod all left to do on it besides unhooking all the old cables etc. So here it is, 1MB unlimited (so I was told) at almost a third of the price I paid before!
All I need now is a way of earning some dosh for sitting at my computer all day and I could combine business with pleasure. And if I could earn enough to afford a secretary it would be business with pleasure with business with pleasure (work that out, it does almost work!). I'm totally zonked after not getting back to sleep after the engineers left despite a few hours trying. So no guesses what I did today once I finally got up again. Piss around with the broadband, while it worked, though I was going out anyway around that time. If cars could improve as drastically as computers we'd all be flying to the shops now if the improvement was equivalent. Quite amazing.
All I need now is a way of earning some dosh for sitting at my computer all day and I could combine business with pleasure. And if I could earn enough to afford a secretary it would be business with pleasure with business with pleasure (work that out, it does almost work!). I'm totally zonked after not getting back to sleep after the engineers left despite a few hours trying. So no guesses what I did today once I finally got up again. Piss around with the broadband, while it worked, though I was going out anyway around that time. If cars could improve as drastically as computers we'd all be flying to the shops now if the improvement was equivalent. Quite amazing.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Day off again
Every week or two I get a whole free day as today is. It's always a blessing, though housework and painting pictures (as well as the internet) run out of charm as it all takes place in an empty house as I described yesterday.
It reminds me of the comedies where kids bring home tramps they've met on the street, and we do have a few drunks who sit on the bench in West Hendon Broadway should I decide to take that method of providing company.
The bad news is after a miscommunication, there's no football on TV tonight, so I'm going to grandma as I often do. Barnet playing Man Utd is apparently far less likely to gain viewers than Grimsby Town who are the game being shown. Bollocks. I have seen Barnet play second string Spurs, West Ham and first string QPR and Fulham in friendlies, but all at Barnet, and they always play fairly local teams for them. I have seen Brentford play a second string Middlesbrough in the league cup, and Fulham play Derby County, but though both away teams were in the premiership at the time, they weren't Man Utd. I last saw them live in my only visit to Old Trafford v Ipswich in 1985.
That was my last ever visit to a premier/Division 1 ground, the all-seater rule made it pretty hard to get in (unless you pay £80 at Chelsea) so I switched to lower divisions and it was at least as much fun. I've been to ex-premier grounds after teams had been relegated, like QPR, as you only get about 15,000 people with no trouble getting in, but I'd have to go to a Spurs league cup game if I wanted a likely premier seat nowadays. As it is I went to 8 Division one games over 15 years so it's not as if I missed out totally (3 Spurs 3 Arsenal, Chelsea and Man Utd). I have however also been to two full international games, England at Wembley (silly considering how close it was I didn't go more often) and Nigeria v Jamaica at QPR. I reckon they beat even premier league matches.
Just for the anoraks, I also went to (old divisions as crosses time boundaries)
Div 2:QPR-3
Reading
Fulham
Crystal Palace
Luton-2
Div 3-4: Oxford-2
Barnet-25
Brentford-15
Wycombe-4
Southend
Cambridge
Leyton Orient
Plus two non-league v league games and 4 Arsenal reserves at Barnet.
So, after that little trip through history (I love making records of events as does another local blogger I came across and compared notes with) what have I done with my day off? It's only half way through, I did go to said West Hendon Broadway on my bike, otherwise I've had the usual business related phone calls to make, no emails, especially as John Hutchison's site appears to have been excised from its server including his email. Why does this not surprise me? The cat managed to push a large pile of papers that need sorting off the table and is now spread across the floor until I have little else to do. I'm intending to finish the next trivia quiz I'm meant to host soon, and have 12 from 30 questions left. It's a lot harder to think of than you'd imagine as people have no time to work things out and live in every imaginable country, so 5 questions on the North Circular Road wouldn't go down very well.
So, freedom has its price, I discovered that back in 1976 after I finished my O levels in January and didn't start A levels till September. Of course all my friends were at school and I was on my own at home every day while my parents were working. I did try various short jobs and trips abroad but they all got cut off after a week or two. I became really depressed in the end as I realised being alone was soemthing that took the fun out of almost everything if it went on for too long. Nowadays after many years it's just how my life is, I've a computer, Sky TV, radios that pick up everything, and a house to look after. But even then I had parents who came home in the evening and it was just a totally new experience hanging around on my own during the day as previously all my friends had been available in school holidays. It's not even my fault I haven't a job now as regular readers will know. My sole criteria since 1997 have been part time and outside Central London. Prior to 1992 it was simply outside Central London which led to me only finding part time work as the demand for full time work locally was way beyond its supply. So in the end instead of working I studied yet again and here I am now, surrounded by silverware (OK, paper certificates) and no fucking work. I have no other way of trying, plus my health fell apart recently and is gradually coming back. Sorry if this is repetition, but new readers if arriving will not know my circumstances so I have to recall things from time to time or each post may not make sense on its own.
Enlightenment includes the total acceptance of the present circumstances with no wish to change them. As in reality life is spread from the positive to negative with no opportunity to reclassify circumstances, I presume enlightenment involves a detachment from the shit, as if at a distance, as no human being can tolerate serious suffering whatever these mavens tell us. I still maintain if a state of mind exists where we are no longer affected by how our body feels they should find a way of inducing it medically. Maxwell Maltz is the pioneer in these studies (I've only heard verbal reports so far) and claims by lowering the brain waves to total relaxation during otherwise active situations anxiety is impossible to occur. I suspect this explains more or less every report of enlightenment and associated experiences, and I do the odd meditation aimed at doing this. But so far even if you can relax that far it only lasts seconds as it's so unnatural and opposite to the way our minds currently work. It would be like learning to walk backwards and never the usual way again. It all seems to jar with reality. But until I get the trick (which I still have serious doubts exists) I have to make the best of circumstances as I do, with no help at this end when I'm at home.
If I was writing an essay I'd have to tie all this assortment up with a conclusion, but it's clearly not possible. Instead I'll just say a few amusing food-related words and phrases. Nibble on the beef bayonet, cut the cheese, eat meat, open your lunchbox, chuff-nuts, hide the sausage, munch the carpet and tuck into a furburger. Who said humour was dead...
It reminds me of the comedies where kids bring home tramps they've met on the street, and we do have a few drunks who sit on the bench in West Hendon Broadway should I decide to take that method of providing company.
The bad news is after a miscommunication, there's no football on TV tonight, so I'm going to grandma as I often do. Barnet playing Man Utd is apparently far less likely to gain viewers than Grimsby Town who are the game being shown. Bollocks. I have seen Barnet play second string Spurs, West Ham and first string QPR and Fulham in friendlies, but all at Barnet, and they always play fairly local teams for them. I have seen Brentford play a second string Middlesbrough in the league cup, and Fulham play Derby County, but though both away teams were in the premiership at the time, they weren't Man Utd. I last saw them live in my only visit to Old Trafford v Ipswich in 1985.
That was my last ever visit to a premier/Division 1 ground, the all-seater rule made it pretty hard to get in (unless you pay £80 at Chelsea) so I switched to lower divisions and it was at least as much fun. I've been to ex-premier grounds after teams had been relegated, like QPR, as you only get about 15,000 people with no trouble getting in, but I'd have to go to a Spurs league cup game if I wanted a likely premier seat nowadays. As it is I went to 8 Division one games over 15 years so it's not as if I missed out totally (3 Spurs 3 Arsenal, Chelsea and Man Utd). I have however also been to two full international games, England at Wembley (silly considering how close it was I didn't go more often) and Nigeria v Jamaica at QPR. I reckon they beat even premier league matches.
Just for the anoraks, I also went to (old divisions as crosses time boundaries)
Div 2:QPR-3
Reading
Fulham
Crystal Palace
Luton-2
Div 3-4: Oxford-2
Barnet-25
Brentford-15
Wycombe-4
Southend
Cambridge
Leyton Orient
Plus two non-league v league games and 4 Arsenal reserves at Barnet.
So, after that little trip through history (I love making records of events as does another local blogger I came across and compared notes with) what have I done with my day off? It's only half way through, I did go to said West Hendon Broadway on my bike, otherwise I've had the usual business related phone calls to make, no emails, especially as John Hutchison's site appears to have been excised from its server including his email. Why does this not surprise me? The cat managed to push a large pile of papers that need sorting off the table and is now spread across the floor until I have little else to do. I'm intending to finish the next trivia quiz I'm meant to host soon, and have 12 from 30 questions left. It's a lot harder to think of than you'd imagine as people have no time to work things out and live in every imaginable country, so 5 questions on the North Circular Road wouldn't go down very well.
So, freedom has its price, I discovered that back in 1976 after I finished my O levels in January and didn't start A levels till September. Of course all my friends were at school and I was on my own at home every day while my parents were working. I did try various short jobs and trips abroad but they all got cut off after a week or two. I became really depressed in the end as I realised being alone was soemthing that took the fun out of almost everything if it went on for too long. Nowadays after many years it's just how my life is, I've a computer, Sky TV, radios that pick up everything, and a house to look after. But even then I had parents who came home in the evening and it was just a totally new experience hanging around on my own during the day as previously all my friends had been available in school holidays. It's not even my fault I haven't a job now as regular readers will know. My sole criteria since 1997 have been part time and outside Central London. Prior to 1992 it was simply outside Central London which led to me only finding part time work as the demand for full time work locally was way beyond its supply. So in the end instead of working I studied yet again and here I am now, surrounded by silverware (OK, paper certificates) and no fucking work. I have no other way of trying, plus my health fell apart recently and is gradually coming back. Sorry if this is repetition, but new readers if arriving will not know my circumstances so I have to recall things from time to time or each post may not make sense on its own.
Enlightenment includes the total acceptance of the present circumstances with no wish to change them. As in reality life is spread from the positive to negative with no opportunity to reclassify circumstances, I presume enlightenment involves a detachment from the shit, as if at a distance, as no human being can tolerate serious suffering whatever these mavens tell us. I still maintain if a state of mind exists where we are no longer affected by how our body feels they should find a way of inducing it medically. Maxwell Maltz is the pioneer in these studies (I've only heard verbal reports so far) and claims by lowering the brain waves to total relaxation during otherwise active situations anxiety is impossible to occur. I suspect this explains more or less every report of enlightenment and associated experiences, and I do the odd meditation aimed at doing this. But so far even if you can relax that far it only lasts seconds as it's so unnatural and opposite to the way our minds currently work. It would be like learning to walk backwards and never the usual way again. It all seems to jar with reality. But until I get the trick (which I still have serious doubts exists) I have to make the best of circumstances as I do, with no help at this end when I'm at home.
If I was writing an essay I'd have to tie all this assortment up with a conclusion, but it's clearly not possible. Instead I'll just say a few amusing food-related words and phrases. Nibble on the beef bayonet, cut the cheese, eat meat, open your lunchbox, chuff-nuts, hide the sausage, munch the carpet and tuck into a furburger. Who said humour was dead...
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Space, the final frontier
To continue the Star Trek theme, though I'm sitting here with time to write, there's nothing to write about on the surface. Nothing has happened. Apart from a fourth person returning to the fold to continue at least one positive phase of synchronicity.
Nothing now is typical. What worries me is based on logic and history there's no reason this won't continue forever. Every now and then I think of something that might bring a person or two into my life (getting an income is beyond redemption I suspect, so I've dropped that issue totally for now) but then realise it's building castles in the air. Otherwise I have my little list of what to do, which is painting pictures followed by housework. While my body can still convey me from a to b that'll be possible, and also if I think of something new to write I do, and I have a postal course to start now which could take weeks or more, so may as well get stuck in. And then I ought to meditate for an hour a day, which may start to happen more.
I think I understand why many people watch the news and get excited about it. I realised years ago it was mainly outside our own experience and would never know it had happened had they not gone to the trouble of pointing it out. And we learn little or nothing from it besides what primitive bastards (and often evil) so many people are, and also how a few idiots earn enough to pay Britain's unemployed for a year. People follow the news to fill the space.
I'm not that different to people, I just stopped looking up that particular dead end to fill my space when I realise all it can do is disappoint. Life around us is far more interesting, the people I know including the many online have events I follow that sometimes go the way I expected, and sometimes not. But they are interesting, and unlike the news, I know the people and can be a part of it. Like watching Big Brother or being in it. Our local lives are our own versions of BB, but no one else is watching it except us.
So, to conclude today's space filler, I'll list all the things that don't seem to happen, I'd like to fill the space, but have little if any control over bringing them in except the business related ones. Recently I did get the large good news of broadband (two days to go!) and the possibility of MSN text watches coming to the UK next year, which is probably not so interesting.
Sharing my house
Getting a regular income
Become famous
Have another friend I can see every week
Pay less to drive, including petrol and congestion charge
Get my kitchen rebuilt
Hear from old friends from Friends Reunited
Sell a painting
Discover aliens are here, including any from other dimensions
Prove Uri Geller and similar powers are real
Become friends with anyone famous
Hear from anyone I'd written off as gone (does happen)
plus one in particular (no names!)
Discover any woman I fancy does fancy me and has decided to let me know at last after apparently not being interested
Meet someone who sees the world near enough as I do so we understand each other
Finding my cleaning lady naked on my bed waiting for me
Hearing they've saved Star Trek from abolition
Hearing Seinfeld had decided to start making his series again
Get an email back from John Hutchison who claims both to have opened a dimensional gateway, but had it filmed by a TV company who then suppressed it for public interest reasons, and is no picture of it or diagram anywhere online, to tell me it is true and demonstrate why www.hutchisoneffect.ca
Find a few items I thought I'd lost in the house
Have an old friend search me out for a change instead of vice versa
Be asked to guest on a radio show
Hear of a baldness cure (that's a popular wish...)
See someone advertise a job I could do at home
Discover this was all a horrible dream and it's over now and I'm OK (I think this would cover everything else).
Nothing now is typical. What worries me is based on logic and history there's no reason this won't continue forever. Every now and then I think of something that might bring a person or two into my life (getting an income is beyond redemption I suspect, so I've dropped that issue totally for now) but then realise it's building castles in the air. Otherwise I have my little list of what to do, which is painting pictures followed by housework. While my body can still convey me from a to b that'll be possible, and also if I think of something new to write I do, and I have a postal course to start now which could take weeks or more, so may as well get stuck in. And then I ought to meditate for an hour a day, which may start to happen more.
I think I understand why many people watch the news and get excited about it. I realised years ago it was mainly outside our own experience and would never know it had happened had they not gone to the trouble of pointing it out. And we learn little or nothing from it besides what primitive bastards (and often evil) so many people are, and also how a few idiots earn enough to pay Britain's unemployed for a year. People follow the news to fill the space.
I'm not that different to people, I just stopped looking up that particular dead end to fill my space when I realise all it can do is disappoint. Life around us is far more interesting, the people I know including the many online have events I follow that sometimes go the way I expected, and sometimes not. But they are interesting, and unlike the news, I know the people and can be a part of it. Like watching Big Brother or being in it. Our local lives are our own versions of BB, but no one else is watching it except us.
So, to conclude today's space filler, I'll list all the things that don't seem to happen, I'd like to fill the space, but have little if any control over bringing them in except the business related ones. Recently I did get the large good news of broadband (two days to go!) and the possibility of MSN text watches coming to the UK next year, which is probably not so interesting.
Sharing my house
Getting a regular income
Become famous
Have another friend I can see every week
Pay less to drive, including petrol and congestion charge
Get my kitchen rebuilt
Hear from old friends from Friends Reunited
Sell a painting
Discover aliens are here, including any from other dimensions
Prove Uri Geller and similar powers are real
Become friends with anyone famous
Hear from anyone I'd written off as gone (does happen)
plus one in particular (no names!)
Discover any woman I fancy does fancy me and has decided to let me know at last after apparently not being interested
Meet someone who sees the world near enough as I do so we understand each other
Finding my cleaning lady naked on my bed waiting for me
Hearing they've saved Star Trek from abolition
Hearing Seinfeld had decided to start making his series again
Get an email back from John Hutchison who claims both to have opened a dimensional gateway, but had it filmed by a TV company who then suppressed it for public interest reasons, and is no picture of it or diagram anywhere online, to tell me it is true and demonstrate why www.hutchisoneffect.ca
Find a few items I thought I'd lost in the house
Have an old friend search me out for a change instead of vice versa
Be asked to guest on a radio show
Hear of a baldness cure (that's a popular wish...)
See someone advertise a job I could do at home
Discover this was all a horrible dream and it's over now and I'm OK (I think this would cover everything else).
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Captain's log stardate 221005
We have been passing through A1 territory, through the junction known as Henly's corner to the rich side of the galaxy, Hampstead Garden Suburb. Actually I do that every week when I visit my mum... Anyway, at home within a couple of hours my new Staedtler nib has produced possibly my best picture so far. I studied a few pen drawings before I started and picked a photo with clean lines and few details and off it went! It'll be posted in a few days when it's completed.
Just thinking about my work recently, if you don't get paid for work it's called voluntary work, so if you get paid is it involuntary? Just occured to me. And that either means you're forced to do it, or do it by accident like an epileptic fit. Neither version appeals to me...
I'm learning not to look ahead, it's a pointless waste of energy and only causes trouble. You can't prepare for a thing, least of all tell what it's going to be like, so better to take everything as it comes. It can be pretty inviting to believe planning for various possibilities can improve a future situation somehow, but apart from maybe a performance of some sort (which just needs memorising) I can't think of any that do. It's a habit I've now realised causes anxiety and disappointment, and though imagining things could improve may lift you one point for a minute, it's meaningless. At least it also stops you projecting badness ahead, eg I'm alone now, not ahead etc, meaning you don't imagine the worst ahead as well which is a good cause of depression. Maybe if anyone learns from my mistakes it'll save them wasting energy themselves now.
That means it's no use imagining my personal biggie I just mentioned about being alone except in a masturbatory, ie just to keep my mind busy, way. I'd love to imagine every scenario possible another person I get on with could share my house, whether the lovely older woman I met recently, a girlfriend from schooldays or even the lovely Becki from Big Brother 2004 I met for a few minutes. As I said, pure mental masturbation. And a pointless pursuit on both types as neither can bring you the objects of your desire. But I no longer believe it's something wrong with me that's responsible for my situation, as enough close friends have confirmed it isn't and I now agree. It doesn't have to be a partner, I know many widowed women who live alone and not all enjoy it. I ought to advertise and find a nice widow with a big house who'd like a man around to look after the odd jobs and have someone for company. Maybe the only way I'll do it actually, and that one simply came to me as I wrote.
Little else to report really, 6 days to broadband, if it works. The weird thing is they ask you to install it after they've hooked you up and left. So instead of running the CD and checking it all works, they piss off to save them enough time for about one extra installation a day and hope they needn't come back if it goes phut. And the customer's left waiting days instead of minutes had they done it in the first place. I remember the first dial up CD I had and it said for 3 days I didn't have a modem, so I just used a new provider. I can't with broadband cable so they really ought to finish the job in one trip. I have basically no plans ahead, I've done one and a half pictures this week, will finish the second as I said, and then who the hell knows? I'm not looking ahead, I'm trying to think of the odd job in advance. Of course, my new postal course. See, talking, whether to others or yourself gets answers, and I have a folder of essays to write as part of my ongoing education. But for fun, I can't think of what else besides my arrangement to watch Man Utd (my first team) play Barnet (my second team) in the league cup on Wednesday on Sky. Nowadays it's just a wee bit easier to watch Barnet live (by about 99.99%), so in effect they're my first live team, though of course I can watch Man Utd on TV a little more often (99.99% more...). In fact apart from the odd FA cup highlight I doubt I've seen Barnet on TV before, which doesn't bother me as I go often enough in person.
I'm still passing on my URL to all and sundry, no messages yet but one by one I'll see them and check if they've looked in. I need to remind myself this is not the real world online and concentrate on life outside with this as an extra. The day I realised I was more interested in getting someone to join my forums than talk to them in person I saw I had become part of the matrix. Now I have to use it as a tool not a world. I'm still waiting for the day someone recognises themselves from here. I'd be delighted to be mentioned (I have actually) whatever anyone said as long as it wasn't defamatory, and I am reading about authors who discuss mentioning real people in their books and how it's unavoidable and OK as long as you do it within the law. Otherwise the press and authors would be paralysed and we may as well go back to doing crosswords...
Just thinking about my work recently, if you don't get paid for work it's called voluntary work, so if you get paid is it involuntary? Just occured to me. And that either means you're forced to do it, or do it by accident like an epileptic fit. Neither version appeals to me...
I'm learning not to look ahead, it's a pointless waste of energy and only causes trouble. You can't prepare for a thing, least of all tell what it's going to be like, so better to take everything as it comes. It can be pretty inviting to believe planning for various possibilities can improve a future situation somehow, but apart from maybe a performance of some sort (which just needs memorising) I can't think of any that do. It's a habit I've now realised causes anxiety and disappointment, and though imagining things could improve may lift you one point for a minute, it's meaningless. At least it also stops you projecting badness ahead, eg I'm alone now, not ahead etc, meaning you don't imagine the worst ahead as well which is a good cause of depression. Maybe if anyone learns from my mistakes it'll save them wasting energy themselves now.
That means it's no use imagining my personal biggie I just mentioned about being alone except in a masturbatory, ie just to keep my mind busy, way. I'd love to imagine every scenario possible another person I get on with could share my house, whether the lovely older woman I met recently, a girlfriend from schooldays or even the lovely Becki from Big Brother 2004 I met for a few minutes. As I said, pure mental masturbation. And a pointless pursuit on both types as neither can bring you the objects of your desire. But I no longer believe it's something wrong with me that's responsible for my situation, as enough close friends have confirmed it isn't and I now agree. It doesn't have to be a partner, I know many widowed women who live alone and not all enjoy it. I ought to advertise and find a nice widow with a big house who'd like a man around to look after the odd jobs and have someone for company. Maybe the only way I'll do it actually, and that one simply came to me as I wrote.
Little else to report really, 6 days to broadband, if it works. The weird thing is they ask you to install it after they've hooked you up and left. So instead of running the CD and checking it all works, they piss off to save them enough time for about one extra installation a day and hope they needn't come back if it goes phut. And the customer's left waiting days instead of minutes had they done it in the first place. I remember the first dial up CD I had and it said for 3 days I didn't have a modem, so I just used a new provider. I can't with broadband cable so they really ought to finish the job in one trip. I have basically no plans ahead, I've done one and a half pictures this week, will finish the second as I said, and then who the hell knows? I'm not looking ahead, I'm trying to think of the odd job in advance. Of course, my new postal course. See, talking, whether to others or yourself gets answers, and I have a folder of essays to write as part of my ongoing education. But for fun, I can't think of what else besides my arrangement to watch Man Utd (my first team) play Barnet (my second team) in the league cup on Wednesday on Sky. Nowadays it's just a wee bit easier to watch Barnet live (by about 99.99%), so in effect they're my first live team, though of course I can watch Man Utd on TV a little more often (99.99% more...). In fact apart from the odd FA cup highlight I doubt I've seen Barnet on TV before, which doesn't bother me as I go often enough in person.
I'm still passing on my URL to all and sundry, no messages yet but one by one I'll see them and check if they've looked in. I need to remind myself this is not the real world online and concentrate on life outside with this as an extra. The day I realised I was more interested in getting someone to join my forums than talk to them in person I saw I had become part of the matrix. Now I have to use it as a tool not a world. I'm still waiting for the day someone recognises themselves from here. I'd be delighted to be mentioned (I have actually) whatever anyone said as long as it wasn't defamatory, and I am reading about authors who discuss mentioning real people in their books and how it's unavoidable and OK as long as you do it within the law. Otherwise the press and authors would be paralysed and we may as well go back to doing crosswords...
Karmic links
A new age theory tells us that anyone who keeps popping up in our life and causing conflict is there for a reason, for the learning of one or both of them. And within a week I've had three of these people at least that made me think, as part of my usual synchronicities, if this is another part of it?
Two people as mentioned have shifted from lost causes to improved positions, and a third who I've known a long time has passed through a stage I was concerned may not happen. The main area of benefit is finding your judgement and opinions about people isn't as bad as you originally believed. It can be easy to write someone off and let them go like a used tissue, but even when you expect this to be permanent it may not happen. Giving people a chance and checking what they're really like shows whatever you think on the surface may be quite different if something forces you to check again.
Of course, if this is the case, how can it explain the regular pains in the arse I do know that just hang around and make a nuisance of themselves? I reckon the main lesson I can learn is not to help or encourage them hoping somehow I'll get something back, as I never do. I'm not actually sure what to do besides say 'I can't help you' and that's more or less the same as 'get lost', which would take a lot for me to say. Or give a long lecture why I believe it's one way traffic and I'm not getting a lot back. But unlike many people I know, I rarely find anyone around who's that bad. Family members can be different as you tend to be stuck with them, but luckily none of mine are a problem in my case, but I know many where they are. But by changing your own behaviour you'll have the best chance of changing them, the main factor being non-confrontational. This is the equivalent of returning fire with water, or hate with love. It's pretty hard to keep up an argument with a clone of Jesus.
Two people as mentioned have shifted from lost causes to improved positions, and a third who I've known a long time has passed through a stage I was concerned may not happen. The main area of benefit is finding your judgement and opinions about people isn't as bad as you originally believed. It can be easy to write someone off and let them go like a used tissue, but even when you expect this to be permanent it may not happen. Giving people a chance and checking what they're really like shows whatever you think on the surface may be quite different if something forces you to check again.
Of course, if this is the case, how can it explain the regular pains in the arse I do know that just hang around and make a nuisance of themselves? I reckon the main lesson I can learn is not to help or encourage them hoping somehow I'll get something back, as I never do. I'm not actually sure what to do besides say 'I can't help you' and that's more or less the same as 'get lost', which would take a lot for me to say. Or give a long lecture why I believe it's one way traffic and I'm not getting a lot back. But unlike many people I know, I rarely find anyone around who's that bad. Family members can be different as you tend to be stuck with them, but luckily none of mine are a problem in my case, but I know many where they are. But by changing your own behaviour you'll have the best chance of changing them, the main factor being non-confrontational. This is the equivalent of returning fire with water, or hate with love. It's pretty hard to keep up an argument with a clone of Jesus.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Clive Bull
Yes, I managed to get my site read out on LBC radio again, and one listener saw a picture of my paintings and recognised her old house! I've had a little flurry of calls in the last month, and may eventually gain 'regular caller' status in the minds of Londoners.
There have been a few little shifts this week, mainly with people I thought were lost causes but are now speaking. I spread my URL around the gym at last, though no one's come back and said they read it, and it also means I can write less and less about little events there or people may get the hump. Now, for variety I could follow a few remarks about the blog and turn it into a comedy spot, but not being a professional writer I'd struggle to write it without an inspiration. Of course for the children out there I could list a string of funny words like crapulous, understain, enema, suppository, phlegm, uterus and excrementitious, but I'd eventually run out and not that many people share my love of rude words. Or I could try and do impressions of some of my more amusing acquaintances, but it wouldn't come across very well in writing. I can have a dig at a number of people I know without computers, such as the woman I know I could swear was the first person to be born with Alzheimer's. Or a few personal items, like I lost my virginity at 15 and got it back at 21. But my stand-up material has now almost run out and I've only done a paragraph. So I'll wait till something comes to me on its own in future, as once I try and plan writing in advance it dries up. My best work has come all in one go with no prior thought. But maybe I'll slip in the odd 'fart' or 'belch' in my writing in future to liven it up a bit. I could wipe mucus on the sleeve of my writing and open the window of my life to let the gas out.
But until that happens I'll carry on the usual way and let things unfold in front of me and be surprised as I see it forming. I often don't remember half the things I've done until I start typing, and am basically a frustrated performer who had to divert the wish to entertain for the need to earn money. But it's both never too late to do it properly somehow, and till then I write my stuff online. No cost, no limit so no need for rationing and severe editing as I would on paper. Having waited 44 years to display my life freely online there's a lot of pent up data waiting to come forth, and like any cupboard collecting junk for years, some needs chucking out and others are worth a fortune. I just don't wait till I find the good stuff as it would change a real life into a soap opera where all the boring bits are taken out and the interesting bits are all strung together. But then I'd only post about once a month and no one could have a go at me as there'd be sod all to pick on.
Actually one final reason I write so often is my regular blogs I read have either dried up or gone off a bit. They all change and evolve, and many have switched from life to 'issues', usually single ones, and I'm more interested in people's everyday lives and thoughts than what's going on in Iraq (ptooey!), Canadian politics (whatever that is), terrorism (we can't do much about it, it's a reality so why analyse it?) and of course the favourite of many London geeks, the latest bluetooth, Ipod and Gameboy technology. If I want to know I'll go to bloody Argos, thank you. Meanwhile, the paid-for article in me will be brewing until someone somewhere discovers it and offers to put it in their newspaper. Till then you'll have to put up with me here.
There have been a few little shifts this week, mainly with people I thought were lost causes but are now speaking. I spread my URL around the gym at last, though no one's come back and said they read it, and it also means I can write less and less about little events there or people may get the hump. Now, for variety I could follow a few remarks about the blog and turn it into a comedy spot, but not being a professional writer I'd struggle to write it without an inspiration. Of course for the children out there I could list a string of funny words like crapulous, understain, enema, suppository, phlegm, uterus and excrementitious, but I'd eventually run out and not that many people share my love of rude words. Or I could try and do impressions of some of my more amusing acquaintances, but it wouldn't come across very well in writing. I can have a dig at a number of people I know without computers, such as the woman I know I could swear was the first person to be born with Alzheimer's. Or a few personal items, like I lost my virginity at 15 and got it back at 21. But my stand-up material has now almost run out and I've only done a paragraph. So I'll wait till something comes to me on its own in future, as once I try and plan writing in advance it dries up. My best work has come all in one go with no prior thought. But maybe I'll slip in the odd 'fart' or 'belch' in my writing in future to liven it up a bit. I could wipe mucus on the sleeve of my writing and open the window of my life to let the gas out.
But until that happens I'll carry on the usual way and let things unfold in front of me and be surprised as I see it forming. I often don't remember half the things I've done until I start typing, and am basically a frustrated performer who had to divert the wish to entertain for the need to earn money. But it's both never too late to do it properly somehow, and till then I write my stuff online. No cost, no limit so no need for rationing and severe editing as I would on paper. Having waited 44 years to display my life freely online there's a lot of pent up data waiting to come forth, and like any cupboard collecting junk for years, some needs chucking out and others are worth a fortune. I just don't wait till I find the good stuff as it would change a real life into a soap opera where all the boring bits are taken out and the interesting bits are all strung together. But then I'd only post about once a month and no one could have a go at me as there'd be sod all to pick on.
Actually one final reason I write so often is my regular blogs I read have either dried up or gone off a bit. They all change and evolve, and many have switched from life to 'issues', usually single ones, and I'm more interested in people's everyday lives and thoughts than what's going on in Iraq (ptooey!), Canadian politics (whatever that is), terrorism (we can't do much about it, it's a reality so why analyse it?) and of course the favourite of many London geeks, the latest bluetooth, Ipod and Gameboy technology. If I want to know I'll go to bloody Argos, thank you. Meanwhile, the paid-for article in me will be brewing until someone somewhere discovers it and offers to put it in their newspaper. Till then you'll have to put up with me here.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Assessment
Due to circumstances, I was forced to assess my own situation accurately for the first time. It's actually quite different to what I thought, as certain people focussed so much on the negatives that I assumed they were the case, plus as I hadn't had an understandable assessment of my anxiety state I discovered I'd blown it into one beyond what it actually was.
So I can now at least judge what I have been like up till now, I didn't have agoraphobia, but because I couldn't (while on medication) do maybe 10-15% of what I could before I had it I had over judged myself as I wanted to be able to do literally everything. Why? Because everyone else seems to and I wanted to keep up with them, especially if a new woman in my life wanted me to. Before the medication I was maybe 30% unable to do things at times, which was still far from agoraphobia as I can now see that's about 80% plus, god forbid. Sure, I have those tendencies, and compared to everyone else I felt agoraphobic, but now I know.
On the positive side, the only gap (for others, not me) in my life was not having a regular job. Big fucking deal. I always felt just a bit embarrassed even though I'd applied for 450 or so jobs and was signed off by three doctors. I live alone, I look after myself, and I have the odd girlfriend (both meanings apply).
I just saw an incredible programme tonight about men over 30 living at home, and that was almost how I saw myself, though I left at 32 I had my own flat from 28, I just didn't stay there much. But leaving home to be married doens't count for me, which most men used to do pre 1970. You just replace one woman with another. Living alone is as tough at times as any full time job, and I bet some people who look down on those who don't work would fall apart if they had to look after themselves. I've done it for 13 years with no sign of remission, most of the time it's normal, and only becomes tough in a crisis nowadays. Thank god after about 4 goes I found a place I liked living in, and have now had 10 years in Kingsbury, as I loved the place we lived till I was 5 and moved to an identical house over the road. Clever stuff. Not planned, I was moving to a tiny box in Putney worth £10,000 more and the people realised I'd beaten them down too far and pulled out, leaving me having sold my house and nowehere to go unless I bought in about 6 weeks.
As it was, I was allowed to store my things at work, and though I had to pay to move twice, to store at work and then take it to Kingsbury, I only had to stay with my Dad for just over 2 weeks as Kingsbury was a lot cheaper than Putney and I didn't know one other area I knew I could afford. It worked out well. After 5 years I'd converted the loft to a huge bedroom and toilet en suite, with room for a double bed, small built in cupboard, my keyboard and chests of drawers. My old bedroom is now my office and where I sit now, surrounded by my museum of collected cars, pictures and books. My few clients usually say how relaxing it is both in here and the area in general, as we're away from any main roads and surrounded by parks. Though if I had the money I'd return to my old haunt where I lived for 28 years, it may be more sensible to stay here regardless as I may earn bugger all for the rest of my life.
So, I think I more or less know where I stand now. I have been pretty hard on myself, encouraged by the odd friend or acquaintance who like to dwell on what people can't do as well as what they can, and started to want to be normal like most other people. Except for never wanting to work full time again, as I was unable to find anything after leaving college and now could only work those hours from home if anyone offered it. In fact I am just in a situation beyond my own plans, one many other people must be in and basically only able to use the tools I have, not perform the impossible. Trying to be and do what you're not is a waste of time. It's like going to an art gallery, going home, trying to paint an identical picture and then feel like shit about yourself as you can't. I get all the basics done, and would be wasting my time trying to become another person to shine in the areas I don't. Like cooking or working more. I also now realise when the other friends said I did do a lot and was good at many things they were right. The fact I can't earn a fucking p from it yet will only matter practically if I need the money desperately, and technically if someone does pay me to do it. Well, actually I can earn fairly good money from playing the piano, I just found it too stressful, so even that's one area I just chose not to exploit. I can (and do) paint till the cows come home, I just fixed my drawing pen, but two shops had all the ink colours except the one people use in it, black.
Nick Roach's book has just come out today, I believe if most people in the 'seekers' area read it it ought to clarify all their confusion as it did for mine.
Nick's book. I hope it goes as well as I think it should do, he's one in many.
So I can now at least judge what I have been like up till now, I didn't have agoraphobia, but because I couldn't (while on medication) do maybe 10-15% of what I could before I had it I had over judged myself as I wanted to be able to do literally everything. Why? Because everyone else seems to and I wanted to keep up with them, especially if a new woman in my life wanted me to. Before the medication I was maybe 30% unable to do things at times, which was still far from agoraphobia as I can now see that's about 80% plus, god forbid. Sure, I have those tendencies, and compared to everyone else I felt agoraphobic, but now I know.
On the positive side, the only gap (for others, not me) in my life was not having a regular job. Big fucking deal. I always felt just a bit embarrassed even though I'd applied for 450 or so jobs and was signed off by three doctors. I live alone, I look after myself, and I have the odd girlfriend (both meanings apply).
I just saw an incredible programme tonight about men over 30 living at home, and that was almost how I saw myself, though I left at 32 I had my own flat from 28, I just didn't stay there much. But leaving home to be married doens't count for me, which most men used to do pre 1970. You just replace one woman with another. Living alone is as tough at times as any full time job, and I bet some people who look down on those who don't work would fall apart if they had to look after themselves. I've done it for 13 years with no sign of remission, most of the time it's normal, and only becomes tough in a crisis nowadays. Thank god after about 4 goes I found a place I liked living in, and have now had 10 years in Kingsbury, as I loved the place we lived till I was 5 and moved to an identical house over the road. Clever stuff. Not planned, I was moving to a tiny box in Putney worth £10,000 more and the people realised I'd beaten them down too far and pulled out, leaving me having sold my house and nowehere to go unless I bought in about 6 weeks.
As it was, I was allowed to store my things at work, and though I had to pay to move twice, to store at work and then take it to Kingsbury, I only had to stay with my Dad for just over 2 weeks as Kingsbury was a lot cheaper than Putney and I didn't know one other area I knew I could afford. It worked out well. After 5 years I'd converted the loft to a huge bedroom and toilet en suite, with room for a double bed, small built in cupboard, my keyboard and chests of drawers. My old bedroom is now my office and where I sit now, surrounded by my museum of collected cars, pictures and books. My few clients usually say how relaxing it is both in here and the area in general, as we're away from any main roads and surrounded by parks. Though if I had the money I'd return to my old haunt where I lived for 28 years, it may be more sensible to stay here regardless as I may earn bugger all for the rest of my life.
So, I think I more or less know where I stand now. I have been pretty hard on myself, encouraged by the odd friend or acquaintance who like to dwell on what people can't do as well as what they can, and started to want to be normal like most other people. Except for never wanting to work full time again, as I was unable to find anything after leaving college and now could only work those hours from home if anyone offered it. In fact I am just in a situation beyond my own plans, one many other people must be in and basically only able to use the tools I have, not perform the impossible. Trying to be and do what you're not is a waste of time. It's like going to an art gallery, going home, trying to paint an identical picture and then feel like shit about yourself as you can't. I get all the basics done, and would be wasting my time trying to become another person to shine in the areas I don't. Like cooking or working more. I also now realise when the other friends said I did do a lot and was good at many things they were right. The fact I can't earn a fucking p from it yet will only matter practically if I need the money desperately, and technically if someone does pay me to do it. Well, actually I can earn fairly good money from playing the piano, I just found it too stressful, so even that's one area I just chose not to exploit. I can (and do) paint till the cows come home, I just fixed my drawing pen, but two shops had all the ink colours except the one people use in it, black.
Nick Roach's book has just come out today, I believe if most people in the 'seekers' area read it it ought to clarify all their confusion as it did for mine.
Nick's book. I hope it goes as well as I think it should do, he's one in many.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Saturday, 12.04 am
It's year 45 and 8 months in the alternative big brother house (the one with one person and a cat), the person is typing on the computer and the cat's enjoying her 'fleadom' (ie flea freedom) by climbing all over the lounge furniture. After yesterday's admirable adherence to the job list, today was more laid back, I needed a little break but didn't let any other remaining jobs slip either. I know these jobs are a pleasure when there's someone else around, and just average to boring when not, maybe as well as the cleaner I'll find an unpaid companion (homeless maybe?) who could just turn up some days and hang about the house. Besides the obvious security implications it may be the only chance I have...
Blogging nearly every day now of course there's far less to report each day, but it's more of a challenge to draw anything out that can be added. I did realise if I worked from or very near home I could probably manage about 20-30 hours a week but how many regular jobs let that happen? The only people I've heard working from home are self employed and in very successful professions that rake in the money and are usually in great demand. Counselling is not one of those, and with more people qualifying every year it's only the select few who make a career of it in this country, especially as it's not a recognised profession by the state. So apart from writing which again, is self employed, I don't have any skills or qualifications like book keeping that can be done from here on a regular basis. But as the books I read say, if I'm paying the bills today, forget tomorrow, as it means I don't need an income, until I do. If that happens, then deal with it. Not perfectly logical as with no income of course it only takes a measurable amount of time for that day to come, and I'm trying to prevent it, not wait till I have to cure it. But it's true worrying as well makes it worse not better.
As far as my housework is concerned, unless a house is in a real state, even though I know I've done something I can hardly tell it's any different if at all. As I said, all the bookshelves and cupboards are full, and I'm very slowly looking for things I can get rid of as I have a house full of things but it's still empty. It's only the rare new technology like the MSN text watch apparently heading for the UK next year that I'd get, and I tend to get bored with them after a day or two. You can't replace people with machines.
Well, I've been passing on my URLs to a number of people this week as the comment total has dropped so suddenly, though I read a teen blog yesterday, which was the most awful shite I could have written myself as a parody word for word, which had no comments for pages. It wasn't a thick kid, it was a first year student with three A levels in real subjects. Now when I was 15, let alone 18, if I wrote a diary I have to admit it was identical to now, though with a little less structure. I was never a teenager, mainly through being an only child and spending my first 21 years listening to legal talk between my parents and intellectual talk amongst their friends. They had little choice to drag me along with them most of the time as I'd get bored left at home on my own, and I just made myself part of the group though I hear many of their friends were highly unimpressed by it. I always spoke English, not teenspeak or text speak, and until I left prep school at 12 almost spoke posh. Now so many teenagers of all classes talk like they've had a lobotomy and write like a retarded 9 year old. I hope to god it's a phase, as having started teaching in 1985, saw the gradual beginning of swearing and arguing with teachers I'd never seen at school myself. No class distinction, I taught all over, and there was no difference. Now I dread to think what goes on 20 years later. That was why I gave up, combined with the assumption a new qualification would lead to a new job (yes, 5 years serving in a shop). So now I have gained and partially used qualifications, but as the years passed it became less and less in demand until the work dried up altogether though I was always pretty flexible what I did, it was the hours and location I was fussy about (having not been originally).
But in theory I've produced a lot better quality since I've been free to do so, it's being used and the only final step is finding someone who wants it enough to pay for it. I can write, paint and possibly go on TV again from home, if this reached a paid stage I assume I'd earn so much per item that I could get away with a large return for small bursts of production. I may well have a time when I feel like working elsewhere again, it's only a recent period of poor health that's kept me near the house a lot and I was far more flexible before then. I am apparently (no surprise to me) a challenge to the doctors as my symptoms don't fit their expectations. Fancy that. But I know my body better than they do from this side, and I'm not surprised, and just hope whatever is wrong they can find it and fix it. It's not a constant problem, but few chronic problems are, you get good and bad times, and I can see this bit is just a phase like any other, but I'll be bloody glad when it's over.
Blogging nearly every day now of course there's far less to report each day, but it's more of a challenge to draw anything out that can be added. I did realise if I worked from or very near home I could probably manage about 20-30 hours a week but how many regular jobs let that happen? The only people I've heard working from home are self employed and in very successful professions that rake in the money and are usually in great demand. Counselling is not one of those, and with more people qualifying every year it's only the select few who make a career of it in this country, especially as it's not a recognised profession by the state. So apart from writing which again, is self employed, I don't have any skills or qualifications like book keeping that can be done from here on a regular basis. But as the books I read say, if I'm paying the bills today, forget tomorrow, as it means I don't need an income, until I do. If that happens, then deal with it. Not perfectly logical as with no income of course it only takes a measurable amount of time for that day to come, and I'm trying to prevent it, not wait till I have to cure it. But it's true worrying as well makes it worse not better.
As far as my housework is concerned, unless a house is in a real state, even though I know I've done something I can hardly tell it's any different if at all. As I said, all the bookshelves and cupboards are full, and I'm very slowly looking for things I can get rid of as I have a house full of things but it's still empty. It's only the rare new technology like the MSN text watch apparently heading for the UK next year that I'd get, and I tend to get bored with them after a day or two. You can't replace people with machines.
Well, I've been passing on my URLs to a number of people this week as the comment total has dropped so suddenly, though I read a teen blog yesterday, which was the most awful shite I could have written myself as a parody word for word, which had no comments for pages. It wasn't a thick kid, it was a first year student with three A levels in real subjects. Now when I was 15, let alone 18, if I wrote a diary I have to admit it was identical to now, though with a little less structure. I was never a teenager, mainly through being an only child and spending my first 21 years listening to legal talk between my parents and intellectual talk amongst their friends. They had little choice to drag me along with them most of the time as I'd get bored left at home on my own, and I just made myself part of the group though I hear many of their friends were highly unimpressed by it. I always spoke English, not teenspeak or text speak, and until I left prep school at 12 almost spoke posh. Now so many teenagers of all classes talk like they've had a lobotomy and write like a retarded 9 year old. I hope to god it's a phase, as having started teaching in 1985, saw the gradual beginning of swearing and arguing with teachers I'd never seen at school myself. No class distinction, I taught all over, and there was no difference. Now I dread to think what goes on 20 years later. That was why I gave up, combined with the assumption a new qualification would lead to a new job (yes, 5 years serving in a shop). So now I have gained and partially used qualifications, but as the years passed it became less and less in demand until the work dried up altogether though I was always pretty flexible what I did, it was the hours and location I was fussy about (having not been originally).
But in theory I've produced a lot better quality since I've been free to do so, it's being used and the only final step is finding someone who wants it enough to pay for it. I can write, paint and possibly go on TV again from home, if this reached a paid stage I assume I'd earn so much per item that I could get away with a large return for small bursts of production. I may well have a time when I feel like working elsewhere again, it's only a recent period of poor health that's kept me near the house a lot and I was far more flexible before then. I am apparently (no surprise to me) a challenge to the doctors as my symptoms don't fit their expectations. Fancy that. But I know my body better than they do from this side, and I'm not surprised, and just hope whatever is wrong they can find it and fix it. It's not a constant problem, but few chronic problems are, you get good and bad times, and I can see this bit is just a phase like any other, but I'll be bloody glad when it's over.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Jobs done
Oh well, blogger appears to be on maintenance again as my blog is still 5 days out of date, which is beyond its standard three days to post a message normally. This isn't their system as when I use my laptop it can update straight away, but up to three days from here is normal. Not five (nearly six now) though...
Today's freedom allowed me to press on with every job mentioned yesterday, plus thank goodness the back lawn and weeds. I just found out some wanker drove into my front number plate, and I had to paint one until I can get one made, not an easy task as few local places do them and have to order one. The cat also needs expensive dental treatment after her checkup, which is just one of those things, but life goes on. But at least the other problem is now dealt with and she's probably a lot happier as well now.
I've done over half a new painting, not in pen as I haven't got it done, but just started the next photo I liked and it's looking pretty good already, and should be posted here next week. So what's left?
I have to start experimenting with new anxiety pills after the usual ones acted like a jar of green chilli powder after a return to them after a couple of years. Unfortunately the events of this year removed the armour they had built up when I stopped taking them, and without them I am pretty unreliable or uncertain about doing many things. I have amazed a number of friends and family at my age just telling them about it, having been kept within a small group until then. I have nothing to hide, apart from being 1000 times more sensitive in some situations than normal people I am just the same otherwise, so why pretend I don't have it? Educating people about mental illness, especially as a counsellor, has to be the best way to go rather than make excuses and pretend there's nothing wrong when there clearly is. And the number of others with it who are encouraged to come out as well means one day these type of problems will be as understood as the physical ones. So as a sufferer myself I have to set an example and open up at last.
The UFO report on TV, all 2 hours of it, was shown tonight. Unfortunately it was made by a skeptic who spent all but a few minutes eliminating all military craft from the list. What he didn't realise was that UFOs are 'unidentified', so by spending half an evening reporting the identified ones, his programme wasn't actually about UFOs at all. What a pratt!
So, I used all my time as well as I could today, I also sent my list of LBC radio presenters to Clive Bull who's on in the evenings, and we went through the lot on air and brought up a lot of nostalgia the other few callers who had time to get on afterwards really appreciated. I've been a regular caller since he started in around 1988 and he only realised how regular when I recalled the other 30 presenters I'd also called since about 1980 and he was surprised I wasn't better known, as I also was. But maybe I will be eventually! I think (in my defence) unlike the people who phone every night or more, I only call when I have something specific to say. If I called every night I'd just be inventing any old excuse to get on, and add no more than I already do as the rest would be padding and shameless publicity. I'd rather wait and be famous for something constructive, and that's happening now I hope.
Today's freedom allowed me to press on with every job mentioned yesterday, plus thank goodness the back lawn and weeds. I just found out some wanker drove into my front number plate, and I had to paint one until I can get one made, not an easy task as few local places do them and have to order one. The cat also needs expensive dental treatment after her checkup, which is just one of those things, but life goes on. But at least the other problem is now dealt with and she's probably a lot happier as well now.
I've done over half a new painting, not in pen as I haven't got it done, but just started the next photo I liked and it's looking pretty good already, and should be posted here next week. So what's left?
I have to start experimenting with new anxiety pills after the usual ones acted like a jar of green chilli powder after a return to them after a couple of years. Unfortunately the events of this year removed the armour they had built up when I stopped taking them, and without them I am pretty unreliable or uncertain about doing many things. I have amazed a number of friends and family at my age just telling them about it, having been kept within a small group until then. I have nothing to hide, apart from being 1000 times more sensitive in some situations than normal people I am just the same otherwise, so why pretend I don't have it? Educating people about mental illness, especially as a counsellor, has to be the best way to go rather than make excuses and pretend there's nothing wrong when there clearly is. And the number of others with it who are encouraged to come out as well means one day these type of problems will be as understood as the physical ones. So as a sufferer myself I have to set an example and open up at last.
The UFO report on TV, all 2 hours of it, was shown tonight. Unfortunately it was made by a skeptic who spent all but a few minutes eliminating all military craft from the list. What he didn't realise was that UFOs are 'unidentified', so by spending half an evening reporting the identified ones, his programme wasn't actually about UFOs at all. What a pratt!
So, I used all my time as well as I could today, I also sent my list of LBC radio presenters to Clive Bull who's on in the evenings, and we went through the lot on air and brought up a lot of nostalgia the other few callers who had time to get on afterwards really appreciated. I've been a regular caller since he started in around 1988 and he only realised how regular when I recalled the other 30 presenters I'd also called since about 1980 and he was surprised I wasn't better known, as I also was. But maybe I will be eventually! I think (in my defence) unlike the people who phone every night or more, I only call when I have something specific to say. If I called every night I'd just be inventing any old excuse to get on, and add no more than I already do as the rest would be padding and shameless publicity. I'd rather wait and be famous for something constructive, and that's happening now I hope.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Dead quiet
Yes, suddenly this evening, maybe after the football where England won for a change, nothing happened. And since then it carried on happening. I was going for a walk to break the pattern but it was raining, there was a programme on TV for half an hour, and that was it. I'm off for my earliest night in years simply as I've run out of things to do, and have some really dodgy jobs to do over the next few days I can't start now as it's too late.
Anticlimaxes after little triumphs of good news are probably inevitable living alone, as whatever happens you return to the desert every night indefinitely. Plus all my 'good news' is in the future, and unfortunately I'm starting to either avoid or not have time for the shit jobs I have to do and they're only going to pile up and bite me in the arse if I let them for too long. Like the cat's fleas...
I do have a picture about to start drawing when I have nothing else to do, but as said, the pen I need is knackered and I have to drive 20 miles or so to fix it. I've also, as usual, mislaid a number of useful items in the house, and having a cleaner who speaks no English (a shame, as there are a few things I'd like to ask her, including the obvious), it's not just me that hides things. The house would be a rubbish tip without a cleaner, it's full from top to bottom and it's a job to hide the excess junk which is too much for the existing storage space. I am trying to thin it all out now, and buying no new items ever again as I have everything I need after a ten year stretch in the same house.
So, rather than go straight to bed and maybe go to sleep, though as it's a couple of hours earlier than usual it may not occur, I had to pop in and write, something like pillow talk but without the partner. Believe me, I have done some bloody useful things recently, mainly as my work is very useful by its nature, but it has actually helped people in a very measurable way and I know how some counsellors haven't helped them and others where I have. Not so much saying how good I am, but how mediocre some others are, and how good our training was. We were taught we have the tools to handle every problem, which is true. Not many colleges would say that to their students but if they teach them enough to do that, then it'll be the case. Added to that everything I do for my older family members, which I believe is every person's duty as if we don't we can't rely on anyone else to do it for them, or for us. It's a mutual need, and I know they do the same for me when I need it. But so many families don't, so it's not a given. But as for today, amusing myself can't have no limits. Fine, if I had a job, the rarer free time would be saved up so I had lots waiting to do in it, but my job record has already been given here and whatever forces were in operation, me and a regular job were fated not to happen for a long time now, and I'm not going to care about accusations of avoiding it, as I know that's not how it happened.
That's just how I've ended up, and the benefits have far outweighed the disadvantages. I'm not bored as I'm not working, I'm bored because I'm alone. I'm not useless as I'm not working, I've studied and created so much since I had nothing else to do that I very much doubt I'd ever have had a media presence had I been working. How could I write articles till 4am if I had work the next day? The only stage yet to occur is earning money from these creations, but there's no rush. Being used is what I want, that's advertising and then I'll see if I get any bites. And until something is shown on TV or published, I'll carry on turning out more while I do have the time. So if I wasn't alone and my mental and physical health was better than it is I'd have a pretty good life. I can only say this as I spent my more active years qualifying and earning so I can now have an umbrella for what has been my own rainy day. I prepared as if it may happen so now it has I am prepared and handling it as best I can. And if I wasn't alone I know my mental health would pick up, as if I'm busy my mind can't flood me with negativity as easily as it does with no competition. I know it's there, it's been there for years and it's not that much of a surprise considering some of the circumstances. But I was born sensitive and I know what shakes others for a day or so can set me back for ages. But I also doubt they can operate at such a level I can intellectually and creatively. By 45 if you don't both know your strengths and weaknesses but can also admit to both without embarrassment you probably never will. And my talents are rarely self-proclaimed, I'd only dare to claim a talent once someone else who knows has said it is. Self praise is no praise, as we all know, so that is how I meant my statement.
Anticlimaxes after little triumphs of good news are probably inevitable living alone, as whatever happens you return to the desert every night indefinitely. Plus all my 'good news' is in the future, and unfortunately I'm starting to either avoid or not have time for the shit jobs I have to do and they're only going to pile up and bite me in the arse if I let them for too long. Like the cat's fleas...
I do have a picture about to start drawing when I have nothing else to do, but as said, the pen I need is knackered and I have to drive 20 miles or so to fix it. I've also, as usual, mislaid a number of useful items in the house, and having a cleaner who speaks no English (a shame, as there are a few things I'd like to ask her, including the obvious), it's not just me that hides things. The house would be a rubbish tip without a cleaner, it's full from top to bottom and it's a job to hide the excess junk which is too much for the existing storage space. I am trying to thin it all out now, and buying no new items ever again as I have everything I need after a ten year stretch in the same house.
So, rather than go straight to bed and maybe go to sleep, though as it's a couple of hours earlier than usual it may not occur, I had to pop in and write, something like pillow talk but without the partner. Believe me, I have done some bloody useful things recently, mainly as my work is very useful by its nature, but it has actually helped people in a very measurable way and I know how some counsellors haven't helped them and others where I have. Not so much saying how good I am, but how mediocre some others are, and how good our training was. We were taught we have the tools to handle every problem, which is true. Not many colleges would say that to their students but if they teach them enough to do that, then it'll be the case. Added to that everything I do for my older family members, which I believe is every person's duty as if we don't we can't rely on anyone else to do it for them, or for us. It's a mutual need, and I know they do the same for me when I need it. But so many families don't, so it's not a given. But as for today, amusing myself can't have no limits. Fine, if I had a job, the rarer free time would be saved up so I had lots waiting to do in it, but my job record has already been given here and whatever forces were in operation, me and a regular job were fated not to happen for a long time now, and I'm not going to care about accusations of avoiding it, as I know that's not how it happened.
That's just how I've ended up, and the benefits have far outweighed the disadvantages. I'm not bored as I'm not working, I'm bored because I'm alone. I'm not useless as I'm not working, I've studied and created so much since I had nothing else to do that I very much doubt I'd ever have had a media presence had I been working. How could I write articles till 4am if I had work the next day? The only stage yet to occur is earning money from these creations, but there's no rush. Being used is what I want, that's advertising and then I'll see if I get any bites. And until something is shown on TV or published, I'll carry on turning out more while I do have the time. So if I wasn't alone and my mental and physical health was better than it is I'd have a pretty good life. I can only say this as I spent my more active years qualifying and earning so I can now have an umbrella for what has been my own rainy day. I prepared as if it may happen so now it has I am prepared and handling it as best I can. And if I wasn't alone I know my mental health would pick up, as if I'm busy my mind can't flood me with negativity as easily as it does with no competition. I know it's there, it's been there for years and it's not that much of a surprise considering some of the circumstances. But I was born sensitive and I know what shakes others for a day or so can set me back for ages. But I also doubt they can operate at such a level I can intellectually and creatively. By 45 if you don't both know your strengths and weaknesses but can also admit to both without embarrassment you probably never will. And my talents are rarely self-proclaimed, I'd only dare to claim a talent once someone else who knows has said it is. Self praise is no praise, as we all know, so that is how I meant my statement.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Ramblings
In just over two weeks everything I post here and elsewhere will be 20 times quicker- I'm getting broadband! I'll also be saving about 60% of my monthly dial-up fee, so celebrations have already started. I suspect webTV may start arriving on this screen as well as all the usual stuff, if they make programmes as good as some of the web radio I regularly listen to for instance.
Otherwise it's a relatively free time now, the business situation regarding the bureacratic difficulties has hit the equivalent of a force 12 gale, and the resulting chaos and damage to my case is roughly the same. Basically whatever can go wrong has done on the system, and I'm beginning to believe it's a deliberate plan to put me off my project, but it just gives me more to do and pisses me off. And my fight is with the government, by the way, no better than BCCI if anyone remembers that lot of twisters. It's after 1am but I still have to send a fax to arrive 1st thing in the morning after I log off (same telephone line) as it means a constant stream of letters and copies to be sent to other places as evidence. Pain in the arse.
Meanwhile I've almost forgotten about women it's been so long since I've had a bite on my fishing line. I've been discussing it a lot online, and one theory is the more unusual you are, the harder it is to find a soul mate. Obviously, the Kevins and Sharons from council estates are basically interested in sex and money. Kevin wants Sharon to clean and cook for him, Sharon wants Kevin to pay for her and keep her in her place (many women from that area of culture expect that and respect it). The ugly guys tend to get the ugly girls and are grateful, and by 25 have a small collection of babies and their own council flat. Some are still happily married 50 years later as it's so easy to have something in common when you are common (what a play on words the language produces). But like a pyramid (my statistical diagram for humanity) it narrows at the top, and there are fewer and fewer like you. I could now have amazing sex with maybe 20% of every woman alive purely by appearance, but would never mix with most socially to get that opportunity for meaningless sex with no friendship, unless I moved to Devon (tried and tested). But in bloody suspicious and increasingly PC London if you breathe in a funny way many women will cross the road and report you to the nearest police station if they're in a mood.
I did try joining Mensa 20 years ago, but being poor and mean, didn't do the pre-test little course designed to help you achieve your top potential. An extra reason was I'd had a proper IQ test long before, so assumed if you can 'pass' once, it'll be automatic every other time. But the practice test was there also to familiarise me with Mensa's actual procedure, so when I arrived in the exam room I was lost on some things and buggered up a few questions as I had nowhere to write notes. I missed the score by maybe 10 points or less, the resit was solely on shape comparisons which were my worst area, and I wasn't going through all that crap a few years later when I could try again. The women there were my types, and if I could have just pulled there and then may have avoided the need to get involved with it again. I also meet my kind of people in my forums, but they all live abroad and few are single, and one (hello!) pointed out if you're special it takes someone else special to recognise it. Made me think.
I'm after fixing my drawing pen bought in 1971 or buying a new one, but the only shop I found with parts so far is in Surrey and now I realise it's worth the expense to repair the old one, it means another visit to do it up so it works (I had to return home and check their prices before deciding). My next picture is to be pencilled in, gone over in pen and then colour washed. But these pens are hard to find and expensive to fix, as I discovered, but it'll be done by next week. I can start on the drawing part as soon as I'm free though. I still have to be confirmed my two paintings are in the gallery, it only opens part time and no one's had a chance to get in and look yet.
Little else to report really, the broadband is the best news for ages, but I hope there will be more in the forseeable future, I'm not greedy but in comparison with many others I ought to be due a little levelling up. So many projects have failed over the years that despite raising my career level some points possibly to the verge of the big time, little on the pleasure side has fallen into place as regular readers already know.
Otherwise it's a relatively free time now, the business situation regarding the bureacratic difficulties has hit the equivalent of a force 12 gale, and the resulting chaos and damage to my case is roughly the same. Basically whatever can go wrong has done on the system, and I'm beginning to believe it's a deliberate plan to put me off my project, but it just gives me more to do and pisses me off. And my fight is with the government, by the way, no better than BCCI if anyone remembers that lot of twisters. It's after 1am but I still have to send a fax to arrive 1st thing in the morning after I log off (same telephone line) as it means a constant stream of letters and copies to be sent to other places as evidence. Pain in the arse.
Meanwhile I've almost forgotten about women it's been so long since I've had a bite on my fishing line. I've been discussing it a lot online, and one theory is the more unusual you are, the harder it is to find a soul mate. Obviously, the Kevins and Sharons from council estates are basically interested in sex and money. Kevin wants Sharon to clean and cook for him, Sharon wants Kevin to pay for her and keep her in her place (many women from that area of culture expect that and respect it). The ugly guys tend to get the ugly girls and are grateful, and by 25 have a small collection of babies and their own council flat. Some are still happily married 50 years later as it's so easy to have something in common when you are common (what a play on words the language produces). But like a pyramid (my statistical diagram for humanity) it narrows at the top, and there are fewer and fewer like you. I could now have amazing sex with maybe 20% of every woman alive purely by appearance, but would never mix with most socially to get that opportunity for meaningless sex with no friendship, unless I moved to Devon (tried and tested). But in bloody suspicious and increasingly PC London if you breathe in a funny way many women will cross the road and report you to the nearest police station if they're in a mood.
I did try joining Mensa 20 years ago, but being poor and mean, didn't do the pre-test little course designed to help you achieve your top potential. An extra reason was I'd had a proper IQ test long before, so assumed if you can 'pass' once, it'll be automatic every other time. But the practice test was there also to familiarise me with Mensa's actual procedure, so when I arrived in the exam room I was lost on some things and buggered up a few questions as I had nowhere to write notes. I missed the score by maybe 10 points or less, the resit was solely on shape comparisons which were my worst area, and I wasn't going through all that crap a few years later when I could try again. The women there were my types, and if I could have just pulled there and then may have avoided the need to get involved with it again. I also meet my kind of people in my forums, but they all live abroad and few are single, and one (hello!) pointed out if you're special it takes someone else special to recognise it. Made me think.
I'm after fixing my drawing pen bought in 1971 or buying a new one, but the only shop I found with parts so far is in Surrey and now I realise it's worth the expense to repair the old one, it means another visit to do it up so it works (I had to return home and check their prices before deciding). My next picture is to be pencilled in, gone over in pen and then colour washed. But these pens are hard to find and expensive to fix, as I discovered, but it'll be done by next week. I can start on the drawing part as soon as I'm free though. I still have to be confirmed my two paintings are in the gallery, it only opens part time and no one's had a chance to get in and look yet.
Little else to report really, the broadband is the best news for ages, but I hope there will be more in the forseeable future, I'm not greedy but in comparison with many others I ought to be due a little levelling up. So many projects have failed over the years that despite raising my career level some points possibly to the verge of the big time, little on the pleasure side has fallen into place as regular readers already know.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Busy
I've been beavering away this week, though at the moment whatever jobs I do seem to lead to more, but I still have worked some way through the list. Sadly, I've learnt giving away too many details may be used against me, so the work side can't really be revealed too much as it's not fair to the people I work with.
Otherwise, being Jewish new year, I've been at family every night this week for a change, and caught up with lots of gossip having the maximum of four remaining family members together at once. Due to divorce number five has to be seen separately since 1981, though back then the family was about double its present size as a few have died since then as you'd expect. And twenty years earlier you could have added a few more as well. But now it's my parents, grandma and aunty by marriage. No brothers or sisters and no cousins either. So we stick together as every one of us now lives alone so rely on each other a lot more than we used to.
I've for no apparent reason started another regular run of radio phone-in calls, I only call when there's a reason rather than just for the hell of it as many do, and after a quiet few months (including a few failed attempts to get on) I've now made a couple of calls a week for a few weeks simply because I've had topics I wanted to add to. So anyone who's heard David from Kingsbury (or London on Talk Sport, but many others with that description) that was me. Unlikely anyone will, but I've made hundreds of calls so who knows?
Outside news has been non-existent, but as it usually is I've been wrapped up with my own business, including the financial bureaucratic mountain I've been involved with for months, which is one of the major pains in the arse of the lot since finishing my exams and other courses. This is an apparently endless series of letters, replies and phone calls that has shown me we are basically living in a fascist dictatorship behind the scenes, as once you know what goes on when the chips are down government-wise, you'd be disgusted (unless you're also a fascist, of course). All I can say is don't rely on them unless you've just arrived via the Eurotunnel. 'nuff said.
I just heard a rumour the SPOT watch technology created by MSN in the States to send text messages to watches by FM radio (which you have to pay to use) is coming here next year. I already used to get these free on my phone before they decided to charge, as well as my pager which was always free, and though it sounds fun, getting pages of football results, charts and gossip takes ages to scroll through and is mainly stuff you know already. If they could let it take emails etc I may be more interested, but the charges are likely to match mobile phones and I'm not paying all that again unless it's going to be better than what I had before. I personally don't even believe we'll get it for at least 10 years as it requires a complete network of antennas on a private scrambled frequency, and with all the planning hurdles that alone would take years before they even started putting them up. Bit I may live to be proved wrong, it does happen...
Otherwise, being Jewish new year, I've been at family every night this week for a change, and caught up with lots of gossip having the maximum of four remaining family members together at once. Due to divorce number five has to be seen separately since 1981, though back then the family was about double its present size as a few have died since then as you'd expect. And twenty years earlier you could have added a few more as well. But now it's my parents, grandma and aunty by marriage. No brothers or sisters and no cousins either. So we stick together as every one of us now lives alone so rely on each other a lot more than we used to.
I've for no apparent reason started another regular run of radio phone-in calls, I only call when there's a reason rather than just for the hell of it as many do, and after a quiet few months (including a few failed attempts to get on) I've now made a couple of calls a week for a few weeks simply because I've had topics I wanted to add to. So anyone who's heard David from Kingsbury (or London on Talk Sport, but many others with that description) that was me. Unlikely anyone will, but I've made hundreds of calls so who knows?
Outside news has been non-existent, but as it usually is I've been wrapped up with my own business, including the financial bureaucratic mountain I've been involved with for months, which is one of the major pains in the arse of the lot since finishing my exams and other courses. This is an apparently endless series of letters, replies and phone calls that has shown me we are basically living in a fascist dictatorship behind the scenes, as once you know what goes on when the chips are down government-wise, you'd be disgusted (unless you're also a fascist, of course). All I can say is don't rely on them unless you've just arrived via the Eurotunnel. 'nuff said.
I just heard a rumour the SPOT watch technology created by MSN in the States to send text messages to watches by FM radio (which you have to pay to use) is coming here next year. I already used to get these free on my phone before they decided to charge, as well as my pager which was always free, and though it sounds fun, getting pages of football results, charts and gossip takes ages to scroll through and is mainly stuff you know already. If they could let it take emails etc I may be more interested, but the charges are likely to match mobile phones and I'm not paying all that again unless it's going to be better than what I had before. I personally don't even believe we'll get it for at least 10 years as it requires a complete network of antennas on a private scrambled frequency, and with all the planning hurdles that alone would take years before they even started putting them up. Bit I may live to be proved wrong, it does happen...
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
The total bollocks you hear on the TV/radio
On Wife Swap last night a Pakistani woman, born here, went to stay with a family in Kent, and the first remark she said when she arrived in the village was "It's not very multicultural!"
I honestly couldn't understand what the significance of that remark was. Is it now a requirement every area of Britain has to be multicultural or it should be corrected or what? If she'd gone to most places 40 years ago she could have said it in every town and village, it never occurred to anyone then. Now If any of us went to Pakistan (where her husband was born and grew up) and went to a village 50 miles outside Karachi and said that they'd probably be in prison now. Or France- 'Oh, I enjoyed the holiday, but the village was, how can I put it, too French?' I've never heard anyone say that either. People make great efforts in Spain to deliberately find areas that are more Spanish than the tourist areas to soak up the full culture, so why does this poor country always get it in the neck?
I nearly fell off my chair when she let that throwaway comment go, and it originated in the prevailing attitude that began mainly in London's people's republic of Camden and spread since the seventies. I used to work in a community centre there and the phrase 'knitting their own muesli' comes to mind...
An equally ignorant and idiotic remark was made by a Talk Sport presenter (I'll save his blushes as he comes from an earlier wartime generation who actually believe this) who said couldn't people with depression ignore it?
This is an apparently educated man in his 60s who's travelled the world and can still seriously come out with that, encouraging others to believe him. If you have a nail in your foot, no one expects you to ignore it. So how are people supposed to ignore other things which are just as painful in other ways? It was only coming up against attitudes like this that forced me to 'come out' over my own anxiety situation and each individual that can be converted from the 'It's not real, you can make it go away of you really try' view to seeing it as just as concrete as a physical problem. I should try giving them a tab of lsd and seeing if they can ignore the visions for very long... But it's a shame that's probably the way any of these guys will realise what it's like, much like those who have never seen a ufo or had a psychic experience and take the piss until it happens to them. Aren't so many humans thick?
I honestly couldn't understand what the significance of that remark was. Is it now a requirement every area of Britain has to be multicultural or it should be corrected or what? If she'd gone to most places 40 years ago she could have said it in every town and village, it never occurred to anyone then. Now If any of us went to Pakistan (where her husband was born and grew up) and went to a village 50 miles outside Karachi and said that they'd probably be in prison now. Or France- 'Oh, I enjoyed the holiday, but the village was, how can I put it, too French?' I've never heard anyone say that either. People make great efforts in Spain to deliberately find areas that are more Spanish than the tourist areas to soak up the full culture, so why does this poor country always get it in the neck?
I nearly fell off my chair when she let that throwaway comment go, and it originated in the prevailing attitude that began mainly in London's people's republic of Camden and spread since the seventies. I used to work in a community centre there and the phrase 'knitting their own muesli' comes to mind...
An equally ignorant and idiotic remark was made by a Talk Sport presenter (I'll save his blushes as he comes from an earlier wartime generation who actually believe this) who said couldn't people with depression ignore it?
This is an apparently educated man in his 60s who's travelled the world and can still seriously come out with that, encouraging others to believe him. If you have a nail in your foot, no one expects you to ignore it. So how are people supposed to ignore other things which are just as painful in other ways? It was only coming up against attitudes like this that forced me to 'come out' over my own anxiety situation and each individual that can be converted from the 'It's not real, you can make it go away of you really try' view to seeing it as just as concrete as a physical problem. I should try giving them a tab of lsd and seeing if they can ignore the visions for very long... But it's a shame that's probably the way any of these guys will realise what it's like, much like those who have never seen a ufo or had a psychic experience and take the piss until it happens to them. Aren't so many humans thick?
Monday, October 03, 2005
It's a mystery
It's probably no secret now that in the last year or so I've lost what was left of any scaffolding holding my life up, and any reflection of that here was inevitable. I can't apologise either for shit that happened to me or the fact I reported it here, and the mark of a good writer (not that I'm labelling myself) is whatever the subject they make it interesting. So whether I'm as high as a kite or falling to bits I do try and present it in a readable way. So those are my excuses out of the way, now more business.
The mystery is what is ahead? I have made the biggest step I had to on the path back to civilisation, a simple trip to the doctors, and hopefully any benefits I have from that will mean whatever's going on no longer has the same effects it did before. So, I remain in the same position where because of broken promises and lack of funds, my kitchen hasn't been replaced by new units and the cutlery drawer just collapsed leaving about 100 knives, forks and whatever else was in it on the floor, needing to be washed and nowhere to put it once it is. Living alone means whatever happens is down to me, besides the cleaner every two weeks. I was told I could foster children which would fix my financial problems, but not when a two person job would be all mine, and I'd have to be on duty 24/7 whatever happened. I'd quite like to otherwise.
I have no idea what's ahead now, but I hope I'm more ready for it whatever it is. I will add the latest disappointment as it was referred to in passing, yet another woman appears to have looked the other way, about number three this year. This was admittedly out of my league by about four divisions, but it's not my doing who I happen to meet at random and she did it for me though I never expected it would work the other way. It does remind me of the good old times, when though I couldn't keep them very long, I usually ended up with exactly who I wanted when I went to one of my regular discos. Whatever it was I did wrong must have happened later on, meaning also it couldn't have been my height or appearance which clearly was adequate to catch them in the first place. Besides a fair percentage of my hair, everything else is much the same, as it would be. And I would have thought any manners I was lacking at 16 or 18 should be dealt with by now. OK, I don't really play hard to get, which I know women prefer, but I would feel like having to come down to such a dire level that unless I may postpone a call by a day or two, I don't piss around like that except to try not to show that much interest until 'after the event' as I know that's the killer of any potential relationship.
Funnily enough it's when I do nothing and make no effort, usually when I didn't particularly like someone but they were 'just there' that I couldn't get rid of them. So I couldn't pretend not to be interested as I really wasn't. Why are some women set up for that fatal formula to work so perfectly? I even showed a couple of times when I went on or off the same women (unlike me, but happens) they reversed in response. How the hell can anyone ever get married with such a formula in operation? Anyway, that remains a mystery as I checked everything I thought put women off about me but they didn't make any difference in practice. Really I'm the same person and they either like me as I am or not, just like watching a film. The only difference is when the rare one comes along who I feel so right with it brings out the best in me. This was the case with failure #3/2005. A rare and definite quality once discovered, and though I know I'm at my best with them, they want someone else's worst rather than my best a lot of the time, or recently (a new one) "Don't want anyone at all".
Are they putting something in the water now?
Otherwise the various business projects I set in motion over the last few months will carry on on their own until each either succeeds or dies. If I have time this week I'm starting my next picture which will be a pen drawing. Unfortunately the new nib my original pen needs is three times the price of a new pen (bloody Germans this time, though they probably copied the British attitude). Mind you, what on earth can I buy nowadays that is made in Britain, now I think about it? I tried one shop yesterday that pointed me to the wrong shelf as they didn't actually have what I wanted. I have no idea where else I can buy one near me so may have to order such a simple item online. And in between chores and projects, my mind wanders as it always did of crazy ideas that may attract attention, but sadly only that of medical personnel.
As I write, I think of the women I know who either read my blog or have the address, and will end with a form of insanity based on various radio phone in shows I've heard over the years where a right corblimey bloke (usually) proposed to his girlfriend over the radio, and she usually called back and said yes. Ah, how nauseatingly corny and romantic. So I'll update it to the women reading with an open proposal they are welcome to copy, fill in the blanks, and return. Acceptance will probably be on a first come first served basis.
Open proposal form
I, David from Kingsbury propose marriage to ----------------------------------------- (insert name here), the first woman to arrive on this page and accept my open invitation to share the rest of your life in Kingsbury with myself, and whichever cat is also present.
Duties will be no more than the minimum requirements of 'Being here' and 'Bedroom duties'. Anything else is completely optional, as the local Co-op has a plentiful supply of ready meals that's sustained me adequately for the last ten years.
Candidates must be available at short notice, without the need for a visa or work permit, as I've been there before and it's usually more trouble than it's worth. In return the successful applicant will have a life interest in a house in Kingsbury, or any following habitation, a constant partner to share her ups and downs, sex on tap any time day or night (includes my being woken up for it whenever required), an extended family that could rival any in a Woody Allen film, every technical innovation except broadband internet as this is but a pocket of medieval England where telephone lines and electricity have to be imported from Hertfordshire.
Major maintenance has recently been carried out on the house and car, meaning besides surprise disasters, such as today's kitchen incident, every area is in fairly good condition. I would like to be able to say this about myself as well but I couldn't be as certain.
The winner will inherit an overall package including a degree, diploma, and professional qualification. No current income but love ought to fill the gaps which money can't. There is also a library of reference books rarely rivalled outside public institutions, including those of the mental variety. The television also provides so many channels meaning only some periods of the day provide no quality worth watching, in which case the internet can be used instead. As with any property this package contains both some prize assets and some which require maintenance or replacement, though the opportunities for major surgery are negligible, especially in the case of inherited personality disorders, though willingness is offered for therapy if any qualities should grate too much after a while.
This proposal lasts and operates until the property, known as 'David from Kingsbury' no longer remains unoccupied and unfulfilled, but, should that situation cease to last, will be reposted ad infinitum. Accidents, ommissions and idiotic jokes excepted.
Romantic, eh?
The mystery is what is ahead? I have made the biggest step I had to on the path back to civilisation, a simple trip to the doctors, and hopefully any benefits I have from that will mean whatever's going on no longer has the same effects it did before. So, I remain in the same position where because of broken promises and lack of funds, my kitchen hasn't been replaced by new units and the cutlery drawer just collapsed leaving about 100 knives, forks and whatever else was in it on the floor, needing to be washed and nowhere to put it once it is. Living alone means whatever happens is down to me, besides the cleaner every two weeks. I was told I could foster children which would fix my financial problems, but not when a two person job would be all mine, and I'd have to be on duty 24/7 whatever happened. I'd quite like to otherwise.
I have no idea what's ahead now, but I hope I'm more ready for it whatever it is. I will add the latest disappointment as it was referred to in passing, yet another woman appears to have looked the other way, about number three this year. This was admittedly out of my league by about four divisions, but it's not my doing who I happen to meet at random and she did it for me though I never expected it would work the other way. It does remind me of the good old times, when though I couldn't keep them very long, I usually ended up with exactly who I wanted when I went to one of my regular discos. Whatever it was I did wrong must have happened later on, meaning also it couldn't have been my height or appearance which clearly was adequate to catch them in the first place. Besides a fair percentage of my hair, everything else is much the same, as it would be. And I would have thought any manners I was lacking at 16 or 18 should be dealt with by now. OK, I don't really play hard to get, which I know women prefer, but I would feel like having to come down to such a dire level that unless I may postpone a call by a day or two, I don't piss around like that except to try not to show that much interest until 'after the event' as I know that's the killer of any potential relationship.
Funnily enough it's when I do nothing and make no effort, usually when I didn't particularly like someone but they were 'just there' that I couldn't get rid of them. So I couldn't pretend not to be interested as I really wasn't. Why are some women set up for that fatal formula to work so perfectly? I even showed a couple of times when I went on or off the same women (unlike me, but happens) they reversed in response. How the hell can anyone ever get married with such a formula in operation? Anyway, that remains a mystery as I checked everything I thought put women off about me but they didn't make any difference in practice. Really I'm the same person and they either like me as I am or not, just like watching a film. The only difference is when the rare one comes along who I feel so right with it brings out the best in me. This was the case with failure #3/2005. A rare and definite quality once discovered, and though I know I'm at my best with them, they want someone else's worst rather than my best a lot of the time, or recently (a new one) "Don't want anyone at all".
Are they putting something in the water now?
Otherwise the various business projects I set in motion over the last few months will carry on on their own until each either succeeds or dies. If I have time this week I'm starting my next picture which will be a pen drawing. Unfortunately the new nib my original pen needs is three times the price of a new pen (bloody Germans this time, though they probably copied the British attitude). Mind you, what on earth can I buy nowadays that is made in Britain, now I think about it? I tried one shop yesterday that pointed me to the wrong shelf as they didn't actually have what I wanted. I have no idea where else I can buy one near me so may have to order such a simple item online. And in between chores and projects, my mind wanders as it always did of crazy ideas that may attract attention, but sadly only that of medical personnel.
As I write, I think of the women I know who either read my blog or have the address, and will end with a form of insanity based on various radio phone in shows I've heard over the years where a right corblimey bloke (usually) proposed to his girlfriend over the radio, and she usually called back and said yes. Ah, how nauseatingly corny and romantic. So I'll update it to the women reading with an open proposal they are welcome to copy, fill in the blanks, and return. Acceptance will probably be on a first come first served basis.
Open proposal form
I, David from Kingsbury propose marriage to ----------------------------------------- (insert name here), the first woman to arrive on this page and accept my open invitation to share the rest of your life in Kingsbury with myself, and whichever cat is also present.
Duties will be no more than the minimum requirements of 'Being here' and 'Bedroom duties'. Anything else is completely optional, as the local Co-op has a plentiful supply of ready meals that's sustained me adequately for the last ten years.
Candidates must be available at short notice, without the need for a visa or work permit, as I've been there before and it's usually more trouble than it's worth. In return the successful applicant will have a life interest in a house in Kingsbury, or any following habitation, a constant partner to share her ups and downs, sex on tap any time day or night (includes my being woken up for it whenever required), an extended family that could rival any in a Woody Allen film, every technical innovation except broadband internet as this is but a pocket of medieval England where telephone lines and electricity have to be imported from Hertfordshire.
Major maintenance has recently been carried out on the house and car, meaning besides surprise disasters, such as today's kitchen incident, every area is in fairly good condition. I would like to be able to say this about myself as well but I couldn't be as certain.
The winner will inherit an overall package including a degree, diploma, and professional qualification. No current income but love ought to fill the gaps which money can't. There is also a library of reference books rarely rivalled outside public institutions, including those of the mental variety. The television also provides so many channels meaning only some periods of the day provide no quality worth watching, in which case the internet can be used instead. As with any property this package contains both some prize assets and some which require maintenance or replacement, though the opportunities for major surgery are negligible, especially in the case of inherited personality disorders, though willingness is offered for therapy if any qualities should grate too much after a while.
This proposal lasts and operates until the property, known as 'David from Kingsbury' no longer remains unoccupied and unfulfilled, but, should that situation cease to last, will be reposted ad infinitum. Accidents, ommissions and idiotic jokes excepted.
Romantic, eh?
Saturday, October 01, 2005
September review
The end of another week, and October as well. My original blog critic, my mother, no longer sees any of it as she knows more or less what's happening without me needing to show her again. And depressing it may be but that's just as much a valid area of life as any other, and far better for a reader than the writer. I've had most phases in my life, and the fact that my original imagined immunity to failure proved a fiction meant I could no longer go through life thinking I was somehow fireproof. We all experience the same potentials, and what can happen to you can happen to me and everyone else. You can't avoid trouble by being careful, you just delay it. Most people under buses, in plane crashes and major disasters aren't there from being careless, life can just catch you out at any time and you may as well accept it and not believe that any effort will do more than postpone the time whatever bullet has your name on it will hit. Not negative, realistic.
So, as one month ends another begins with a depressing observation, but hopefully out of the way now and move on to other things. It was not a memorable week at all, jobs got done and I barely saw anyone outside the family and the neighbour I was helping out. I joined a forum on enlightenment, and actually found they could offer some practical advice that helped. I can see myself responding to it while I do things, and maybe there is more in it than appeared after close inspection. The major alien revelation promised on Talk Sport was as I expected, a rehash of stuff we can all read in UFO books by a politically jaded radical who jumped on a bandwagon with nothing more than his earlier status to offer. The community doesn't need big names to join it, only people prepared to blow the whistle on information they were told to conceal on pain of death (for that is the penalty in the US, at least). Paul Hellyer had a big build up for the reason I expected, they had nothing to fear by his announcements so he could cry them from the rooftops with no fear he'd ever be stopped. So all that's left is Major Ed Dames who has his planned meeting with aliens planned for the new year. Another day in the life of a psychic researcher who can do more himself than nearly every subject he investigates. Wonderful...
Last month is best out of the way and forgotten. A few broken things were fixed, and I was overlooked by more women, though on the gym front I lost an inch off my waist and somehow increased the weights on the pectoral flies by 100%. It's a shame the gym/community centre is so far away or I'd be there twice as often, there are a bunch of nice people there but not local to me here. One woman struck me the day she arrived as special, though her age prevented any interest in me on her part, and she turned out to be taken but is still very nice to talk to. The amazing thing is she'd never work out how much I like her, though my eyes light up every time I see her there. There's also a blonde woman who has to be one of the best looking I've ever seen, but zero personality or class, and also less than half my age. I couldn't get two words out of her if I did any less than whip my cock out, then it would only be 'help, call the police!'. Then there's the one I tried to chat up after she actually talked to me once, and failed dismally. I then saw her leaving once with someone who looked exactly like a paroled murderer, which may have explained my lack of success. Then of course there was the tattooed contortionist, who did ballet and yoga type exercises that distracted me from my weights for a few months, with the male model waiting on the chair outside the door every time she came, someone pointed out for me.
The fact is, besides the expensive gyms for posers and cheap ones for yobs with no changing rooms, there are very few community centres in London to join where you might just meet people, and I'm lucky enough to have found one of the best ones despite the fact it's where my father lives, not me. I'd never find anywhere with a better social activity except for some reason virtually none of the gym members ever drink in the cafe/bar afterwards except me, which is the only reason I used to go there in the past. We have had a few parties, and to see the staff in one bunch in their twenties, a group of people who came together on their own table, and all the single men in a little group by the bar was tragic. On the first one I actually used something to my advantage, having bought the biggest plate of chips I'd ever seen, and offering them to three women sitting opposite me. It allowed me to chat with them for the rest of the evening, though that's all that took place. But I think people could use these rare areas of civilisation far better than they do, when I consider how many people on my regular forum have fallen for others on different continents, when at the place I go we're all under one roof and could easily pair up most of the singles there in a few weeks if everyone stayed around after the gym or classes, but they run off the minute they finish, though some are also single and don't exploit the possibilities on their doorstep. And I'm not aware of anywhere similar anywhere near me so I haven't missed any other chances.
Finally, I almost considered giving this blog up after the impression was my few readers had gone. I know compared to most I produce far more than the enthusiasts who last two posts 'first post' and 'what I did today', to leave a permanent entry on the profile search and nothing produced since 2004. I don't believe depression is catching, which would explain the exodus, and it's not I hope a constant theme, just a current current, to play with both the word's meanings. And to be honest, one thing that seems to help when I'm feeling down is to read someone else in a similar position. It feels less isolated and more normal. I just heard of a forum purely for people with depression and no doubt I'll end up looking in, and if not totally mind-numbing probably joining in and winding everyone up with my banal wanderings. The trouble with writing as opposed to talking is there's no one to make you stop, which is how I keep going here and elsewhere, but would never go on in a conversation. There's no need to stop if the thoughts flow. And to end that train of thought, I had to convert the first and only book I wrote to a booklet as everything I wanted to write only took up 28 pages. Boy, have I changed since then, so at least I could have a crack at the minimum 200 pages publishers want now, I seem to have taken on the ability to run on if nothing else.
So, as one month ends another begins with a depressing observation, but hopefully out of the way now and move on to other things. It was not a memorable week at all, jobs got done and I barely saw anyone outside the family and the neighbour I was helping out. I joined a forum on enlightenment, and actually found they could offer some practical advice that helped. I can see myself responding to it while I do things, and maybe there is more in it than appeared after close inspection. The major alien revelation promised on Talk Sport was as I expected, a rehash of stuff we can all read in UFO books by a politically jaded radical who jumped on a bandwagon with nothing more than his earlier status to offer. The community doesn't need big names to join it, only people prepared to blow the whistle on information they were told to conceal on pain of death (for that is the penalty in the US, at least). Paul Hellyer had a big build up for the reason I expected, they had nothing to fear by his announcements so he could cry them from the rooftops with no fear he'd ever be stopped. So all that's left is Major Ed Dames who has his planned meeting with aliens planned for the new year. Another day in the life of a psychic researcher who can do more himself than nearly every subject he investigates. Wonderful...
Last month is best out of the way and forgotten. A few broken things were fixed, and I was overlooked by more women, though on the gym front I lost an inch off my waist and somehow increased the weights on the pectoral flies by 100%. It's a shame the gym/community centre is so far away or I'd be there twice as often, there are a bunch of nice people there but not local to me here. One woman struck me the day she arrived as special, though her age prevented any interest in me on her part, and she turned out to be taken but is still very nice to talk to. The amazing thing is she'd never work out how much I like her, though my eyes light up every time I see her there. There's also a blonde woman who has to be one of the best looking I've ever seen, but zero personality or class, and also less than half my age. I couldn't get two words out of her if I did any less than whip my cock out, then it would only be 'help, call the police!'. Then there's the one I tried to chat up after she actually talked to me once, and failed dismally. I then saw her leaving once with someone who looked exactly like a paroled murderer, which may have explained my lack of success. Then of course there was the tattooed contortionist, who did ballet and yoga type exercises that distracted me from my weights for a few months, with the male model waiting on the chair outside the door every time she came, someone pointed out for me.
The fact is, besides the expensive gyms for posers and cheap ones for yobs with no changing rooms, there are very few community centres in London to join where you might just meet people, and I'm lucky enough to have found one of the best ones despite the fact it's where my father lives, not me. I'd never find anywhere with a better social activity except for some reason virtually none of the gym members ever drink in the cafe/bar afterwards except me, which is the only reason I used to go there in the past. We have had a few parties, and to see the staff in one bunch in their twenties, a group of people who came together on their own table, and all the single men in a little group by the bar was tragic. On the first one I actually used something to my advantage, having bought the biggest plate of chips I'd ever seen, and offering them to three women sitting opposite me. It allowed me to chat with them for the rest of the evening, though that's all that took place. But I think people could use these rare areas of civilisation far better than they do, when I consider how many people on my regular forum have fallen for others on different continents, when at the place I go we're all under one roof and could easily pair up most of the singles there in a few weeks if everyone stayed around after the gym or classes, but they run off the minute they finish, though some are also single and don't exploit the possibilities on their doorstep. And I'm not aware of anywhere similar anywhere near me so I haven't missed any other chances.
Finally, I almost considered giving this blog up after the impression was my few readers had gone. I know compared to most I produce far more than the enthusiasts who last two posts 'first post' and 'what I did today', to leave a permanent entry on the profile search and nothing produced since 2004. I don't believe depression is catching, which would explain the exodus, and it's not I hope a constant theme, just a current current, to play with both the word's meanings. And to be honest, one thing that seems to help when I'm feeling down is to read someone else in a similar position. It feels less isolated and more normal. I just heard of a forum purely for people with depression and no doubt I'll end up looking in, and if not totally mind-numbing probably joining in and winding everyone up with my banal wanderings. The trouble with writing as opposed to talking is there's no one to make you stop, which is how I keep going here and elsewhere, but would never go on in a conversation. There's no need to stop if the thoughts flow. And to end that train of thought, I had to convert the first and only book I wrote to a booklet as everything I wanted to write only took up 28 pages. Boy, have I changed since then, so at least I could have a crack at the minimum 200 pages publishers want now, I seem to have taken on the ability to run on if nothing else.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Therapy
I haven't paid for therapy for 15 years now and never intend to again. I benefit just as much from unloading here, it may piss people off to the point of turning over to another channel, metaphorically speaking, but I now look forward to coming home and composing something usually as I write, as I am now. It's only a day since I last posted, but in blogs a day is a long time... I didn't do a lot more than work today (makes a bloody change) but I have finally discovered how to replace the dodgy knob on my front door that had meant it was possible to push it open for weeks unless I used the deadlock. It now clicks shut like a Rolls Royce door, and only cost me £12! I also started fixing the metal windows now the doors and bricks are more or less repainted, and filled all the old putty with new stuff, which is essential to maintain as if the windows rust it'll cost as much as a new house, well more than I want to spend anyway. And my mum told me she did all the same work 45 years ago when we lived over the road in an identical bungalow. That's one advantage not having a top floor as you can reach much of the easy DIY areas you can't on a house and save the money you then spend on the double stretch of guttering compared to on a house, ie you can't win.
I have relayed my 'love history' on the new blog, and looking at it seen how incredibly repetitive my situations have been, and still can't understand how. I have (no names so no readers embarrassed) admirers abroad who are quite unlike the weird and wonderful array of misfits I meet in London, who I believe would still like me in person goes to add to my view it's not something I do that leaves me terminally single. In fact, getting to know people online means by the time you do eventually meet you already know each other so well there are unlikely to be any new faults left to discover. I have no reason to hide my own weaknesses online as we all have them, so what's so clever about pretending you haven't if you have? That's the British way and means people of my age or so don't realise their problems are shared with anyone else, let alone common, so I do my bit to balance this pathetic situation and after pretending I was OK for many years, now try and educate people it's OK to have problems.
So, I've done the little jobs I had to do more or less, and painting the windows will follow when there's time, but there's nothing urgent left thank goodness till the next crisis god forbid. Even though it's still September, I almost feel like an annual review as I've had such a shit year besides the media and creative side of it. I have met and pursued three women of varying qualities, with even less success than average as usually at least one will go out with me a few times before saying I'm only a friend. This time one said she would and didn't, one asked me to travel with her, and when I couldn't never offered me anything again. And the third was a bit like Barnet's chances at Manchester Utd coming up, it's possible to win but no one expects it. The result I had was unfortunately the expected one, though she was not only the best but the only one without 'issues', which is almost unheard of in the women I go after. And many things I still had have now gone, most of all being my income, with dodgy health from all the stress of the year's situations. When you're in a legal dispute over your very financial survival, the post provides the equivalent of about three day's work a week. You get a letter, you try and dispute it, needing legal help, compose letters, print and copy them, and then get a reply repeating the previous one. This happened continually for four months and is still going on, and in all that time I haven't earned a thing. For a while I offered my services in various suitable places, but unless you're from a particular field with a consistent work record no one in London will touch you with a barge pole, they'd rather get school leavers or women with kids who don't expect much out of it compared to a man who may actually want more than the minimum wage as he hasn't got a partner to earn the lion's share. This is not my opinion, I emphasise, but most employers looking for part time staff. Men don't get a look in. I worked part time since 1989 simply because I was at college one morning a week and not a place in Britain would let me take the morning off. So I worked probably 25 hours a week altogether over about three different places. Then when I finished college I spent a year and a half applying for full time jobs, being free at last at 31! After I think 150 applications and 3 interviews I ended up working three days a week in my friend's shop. This paid my bills for 5 years and allowed me to work another day or so elsewhere If I could. After that I couldn't imagine full time work again and never got another job save for a few days in another shop I knew which closed from lack of customers after my first week.
I used the time after that (another 100 plus applications and about 3 interviews) to study from home, and in 2001 became pretty well qualified. I applied for about a job every month (counselling is not often offered as regular paid work, certainly not enough for all the applicants looking) and I got one interview after over a year, and that was it. In the end I went back to looking for shop and similar work, but I've run out of friends and family with businesses, and that's where I am now. In reality I doubt I can go broke, but as that's an assumption at most, it's only too easy to imagine it, as going by my past record it's near on impossible to get a regular job I'd be able to do for more than a week without cracking up. Ideally by now I'd be married, looking after the kids at home while my wife worked, if that's what we could agree, and if self employed media work ever came my way I could do most of it from home along with painting. To think, had just one of the jobs I applied for in 1991 had come up, I'd never had stopped working full time and become used to it. I was so flexible the only criterion I had was not to work inside the London ring road, as the journey there in the past had been like a day's work in itself. Sadly it's still the custom to locate about 90% of the offices in London within the ring road, so I was restricted to the few left that everyone else wanted as well. But I was prepared to do anything in an office I didn't need secretarial training for. I'd done despatch work and computer entry before, as well as accounts and filing, and every firm needed that, so I thought. What did they need? Shorthand and fucking typing. Not just the typing I do now (32 wpm, consistent for 20 years) but double that minimum. I went for a job thinking it was clerical legal work to find out they wanted the office manager of the clerks. OK, I thought, a bit more work to do but some authority. What did they do in the interview? A bloody fucking typing test, again! I was interviewing for a manager of a whole legal department at the council, with a law degree, and all they wanted to know is 'How fast can I type?'. My spelling and accuracy, as anyone can see, is almost 100%. Anyone reading my work may complain about the layout, but it'll always be accurate. Who really cares if I may have to stay late the odd day to finish it?
So for all the people in the past (you know who you are, if you still read this) who criticised my evasion of work, it wasn't my choice. In fact, I chased work for years and ended up with one job that lasted 5 years and one 3 days, both part time. After about 300 applications. This is rapidly becoming like an eastern bloc economy, and soon at this rate crime will become a bigger requirement for success than qualifications. And if you don't believe me, remember who said the oil price would ruin the world economy a month before Gordon Brown finally admitted it. I live in Brent, I see it happening around me.
I have relayed my 'love history' on the new blog, and looking at it seen how incredibly repetitive my situations have been, and still can't understand how. I have (no names so no readers embarrassed) admirers abroad who are quite unlike the weird and wonderful array of misfits I meet in London, who I believe would still like me in person goes to add to my view it's not something I do that leaves me terminally single. In fact, getting to know people online means by the time you do eventually meet you already know each other so well there are unlikely to be any new faults left to discover. I have no reason to hide my own weaknesses online as we all have them, so what's so clever about pretending you haven't if you have? That's the British way and means people of my age or so don't realise their problems are shared with anyone else, let alone common, so I do my bit to balance this pathetic situation and after pretending I was OK for many years, now try and educate people it's OK to have problems.
So, I've done the little jobs I had to do more or less, and painting the windows will follow when there's time, but there's nothing urgent left thank goodness till the next crisis god forbid. Even though it's still September, I almost feel like an annual review as I've had such a shit year besides the media and creative side of it. I have met and pursued three women of varying qualities, with even less success than average as usually at least one will go out with me a few times before saying I'm only a friend. This time one said she would and didn't, one asked me to travel with her, and when I couldn't never offered me anything again. And the third was a bit like Barnet's chances at Manchester Utd coming up, it's possible to win but no one expects it. The result I had was unfortunately the expected one, though she was not only the best but the only one without 'issues', which is almost unheard of in the women I go after. And many things I still had have now gone, most of all being my income, with dodgy health from all the stress of the year's situations. When you're in a legal dispute over your very financial survival, the post provides the equivalent of about three day's work a week. You get a letter, you try and dispute it, needing legal help, compose letters, print and copy them, and then get a reply repeating the previous one. This happened continually for four months and is still going on, and in all that time I haven't earned a thing. For a while I offered my services in various suitable places, but unless you're from a particular field with a consistent work record no one in London will touch you with a barge pole, they'd rather get school leavers or women with kids who don't expect much out of it compared to a man who may actually want more than the minimum wage as he hasn't got a partner to earn the lion's share. This is not my opinion, I emphasise, but most employers looking for part time staff. Men don't get a look in. I worked part time since 1989 simply because I was at college one morning a week and not a place in Britain would let me take the morning off. So I worked probably 25 hours a week altogether over about three different places. Then when I finished college I spent a year and a half applying for full time jobs, being free at last at 31! After I think 150 applications and 3 interviews I ended up working three days a week in my friend's shop. This paid my bills for 5 years and allowed me to work another day or so elsewhere If I could. After that I couldn't imagine full time work again and never got another job save for a few days in another shop I knew which closed from lack of customers after my first week.
I used the time after that (another 100 plus applications and about 3 interviews) to study from home, and in 2001 became pretty well qualified. I applied for about a job every month (counselling is not often offered as regular paid work, certainly not enough for all the applicants looking) and I got one interview after over a year, and that was it. In the end I went back to looking for shop and similar work, but I've run out of friends and family with businesses, and that's where I am now. In reality I doubt I can go broke, but as that's an assumption at most, it's only too easy to imagine it, as going by my past record it's near on impossible to get a regular job I'd be able to do for more than a week without cracking up. Ideally by now I'd be married, looking after the kids at home while my wife worked, if that's what we could agree, and if self employed media work ever came my way I could do most of it from home along with painting. To think, had just one of the jobs I applied for in 1991 had come up, I'd never had stopped working full time and become used to it. I was so flexible the only criterion I had was not to work inside the London ring road, as the journey there in the past had been like a day's work in itself. Sadly it's still the custom to locate about 90% of the offices in London within the ring road, so I was restricted to the few left that everyone else wanted as well. But I was prepared to do anything in an office I didn't need secretarial training for. I'd done despatch work and computer entry before, as well as accounts and filing, and every firm needed that, so I thought. What did they need? Shorthand and fucking typing. Not just the typing I do now (32 wpm, consistent for 20 years) but double that minimum. I went for a job thinking it was clerical legal work to find out they wanted the office manager of the clerks. OK, I thought, a bit more work to do but some authority. What did they do in the interview? A bloody fucking typing test, again! I was interviewing for a manager of a whole legal department at the council, with a law degree, and all they wanted to know is 'How fast can I type?'. My spelling and accuracy, as anyone can see, is almost 100%. Anyone reading my work may complain about the layout, but it'll always be accurate. Who really cares if I may have to stay late the odd day to finish it?
So for all the people in the past (you know who you are, if you still read this) who criticised my evasion of work, it wasn't my choice. In fact, I chased work for years and ended up with one job that lasted 5 years and one 3 days, both part time. After about 300 applications. This is rapidly becoming like an eastern bloc economy, and soon at this rate crime will become a bigger requirement for success than qualifications. And if you don't believe me, remember who said the oil price would ruin the world economy a month before Gordon Brown finally admitted it. I live in Brent, I see it happening around me.
Complaining
My recent conclusion why my readership seems to have dwindled to my own checking is because the common theme since I started appears to be complaining. There is a logic here, as if I don't complain I become even more burdened with the stresses of life than I already am, plus when I write I try and make it entertaining in a Tony Hancock sort of way. So if I complain here it should also stop me doing it with friends and family as I know they can do without it, and maybe it makes the odd poor sod feel better when they see how life can take over your long held plans and piss and shit all over them.
I don't intend to depress anyone, Shakespeare's tragedies were no less entertaining than his comedies, and unlike Shakespeare I never intend to write tragedies. It probably comes out like that most of the time, but unfortunately many aspects of my life went downhill, and this year all at once. Had I lived in a small town or community they would have not only helped, but probably taken much of the situation away in the first place as much of my trouble is being isolated within a 40 mile stretch of urbanisation where even the few people you see regularly usually pretend they've never seen you before. So, there's the background to why I whinge like a geriatric Jewish grandma, whose sadly biggest weapon of tedium is repetition.
I know one who is younger than me, but since I met her at 19 was old before her time and never acted a day under 80. I would greatly love to weave my own and their stories into a screenplay, though Jerry Seinfeld did it in America, he had to remove the Jewish element (by ignoring anyone's Jewish identity other than his own), rather than sacking the all-Jewish cast (except Kramer). I could easily create a weekly soap of London Jewish neurosis equal to Woody Allen and Jackie Mason, and maybe in my next major hiatus in time will have a go. It's something I used to do long ago so worth a revival after some 30 years off the case.
I have joined another blog for losers in love which I would link only the name is too rude for my regulars (ex-regulars...?) so I'll simply attempt to link it here if I can find how to hide the name. my other blog.
I may need to read the help and advice page on inserting links. The method here is one that only primary school kids could work out as they were fluent in HTML by 7. I think the next level would be to start some more specialised blogs, including the complaining blog. I know I'm not alone, and personally enjoy reading complaints as it tends to make me think others are also aware the world isn't perfect and they may do something about it as a result. Constructive criticism. So to end with a good example, our lovely government are now planning to extend congestion charging nationally, and the pinnacle is the M4 motorway at Heathrow airport, and unless I misheard, the charge isn't going to be the £8 for driving in London, but... £40!
The politicians are now using global warming as another excuse to tax air passengers (read 'flights have become so cheap there's a chance to jack up the prices and still sell tickets'). The congestion charge is also going to be extended within the whole of London and inside the M25. I personally have begun not to care how far I travel any more, and maybe the restrictions that will come with only being able to travel when essential will force people to find more to do in their local areas and possibly even get to know a few people there.
I thought that Tony Blair has actually gone beyond anything politicians would have done in the past. Neither Stalin or Hitler, and as far as I know Castro haven't and never would charge to drive anywhere. OK, cars were not quite as widespread in those times and places, but had they been, I don't believe the toughest regimes of last century (and this one) would try a scam like that. Will the Chinese and North Koreans decide to have a charge to drive anywhere once enough people own cars to create a market? I don't think so. OK, it was Ken Livingstone, London's own mixture of every historical figure we were happy to have abroad and not here. But he's only captured Labour's general attidude to private freedom, and beat them to it more as an experiment to see if he could get away with it before being adopted nationwide as it now has been in theory. Road pricing is now in the Labour manifesto and as they'll probably be on the throne for most of my future life, anything Tony wants Tony gets. Then when the world becomes colder (as it possibly will) he will take some credit for it from all his anti-travel policies to control greenhouse emissions. What a twat.
I don't intend to depress anyone, Shakespeare's tragedies were no less entertaining than his comedies, and unlike Shakespeare I never intend to write tragedies. It probably comes out like that most of the time, but unfortunately many aspects of my life went downhill, and this year all at once. Had I lived in a small town or community they would have not only helped, but probably taken much of the situation away in the first place as much of my trouble is being isolated within a 40 mile stretch of urbanisation where even the few people you see regularly usually pretend they've never seen you before. So, there's the background to why I whinge like a geriatric Jewish grandma, whose sadly biggest weapon of tedium is repetition.
I know one who is younger than me, but since I met her at 19 was old before her time and never acted a day under 80. I would greatly love to weave my own and their stories into a screenplay, though Jerry Seinfeld did it in America, he had to remove the Jewish element (by ignoring anyone's Jewish identity other than his own), rather than sacking the all-Jewish cast (except Kramer). I could easily create a weekly soap of London Jewish neurosis equal to Woody Allen and Jackie Mason, and maybe in my next major hiatus in time will have a go. It's something I used to do long ago so worth a revival after some 30 years off the case.
I have joined another blog for losers in love which I would link only the name is too rude for my regulars (ex-regulars...?) so I'll simply attempt to link it here if I can find how to hide the name. my other blog.
I may need to read the help and advice page on inserting links. The method here is one that only primary school kids could work out as they were fluent in HTML by 7. I think the next level would be to start some more specialised blogs, including the complaining blog. I know I'm not alone, and personally enjoy reading complaints as it tends to make me think others are also aware the world isn't perfect and they may do something about it as a result. Constructive criticism. So to end with a good example, our lovely government are now planning to extend congestion charging nationally, and the pinnacle is the M4 motorway at Heathrow airport, and unless I misheard, the charge isn't going to be the £8 for driving in London, but... £40!
The politicians are now using global warming as another excuse to tax air passengers (read 'flights have become so cheap there's a chance to jack up the prices and still sell tickets'). The congestion charge is also going to be extended within the whole of London and inside the M25. I personally have begun not to care how far I travel any more, and maybe the restrictions that will come with only being able to travel when essential will force people to find more to do in their local areas and possibly even get to know a few people there.
I thought that Tony Blair has actually gone beyond anything politicians would have done in the past. Neither Stalin or Hitler, and as far as I know Castro haven't and never would charge to drive anywhere. OK, cars were not quite as widespread in those times and places, but had they been, I don't believe the toughest regimes of last century (and this one) would try a scam like that. Will the Chinese and North Koreans decide to have a charge to drive anywhere once enough people own cars to create a market? I don't think so. OK, it was Ken Livingstone, London's own mixture of every historical figure we were happy to have abroad and not here. But he's only captured Labour's general attidude to private freedom, and beat them to it more as an experiment to see if he could get away with it before being adopted nationwide as it now has been in theory. Road pricing is now in the Labour manifesto and as they'll probably be on the throne for most of my future life, anything Tony wants Tony gets. Then when the world becomes colder (as it possibly will) he will take some credit for it from all his anti-travel policies to control greenhouse emissions. What a twat.
Monday, September 26, 2005
A bit more of everything
Various small issues going on at the moment, nothing of any importance probably but what I find boring is often what others may find interesting. It certainly seems the other way round here...
There was a very rare occurence today, a woman, my sort of age and nice actually came and spoke to me in Syon Park garden centre. I saw her in a furniture shop there and when we came out (I went with my father) she came and spoke to us about the furniture, and was very friendly. This (especially in London) happens so rarely it really makes an impression, though she sounded like she was from Newcastle or Norway (can be hard to tell...) where they would speak to normal looking people in furniture shops they didn't know. Then we saw her in the cafe but we weren't eating yet, but though I said hello again she didn't draw me back into conversation as I was considering getting her contact details if she had. But it just shows if you wait long enough and mix with people things can happen eventually.
The current two supernatural issues Howard Hughes has turned up for me on Talk Sport radio are on my system now until they die as all before them have. Paul Hellyer was meant to speak to a Toronto conference on governments holding secret information on aliens. Mr Hellyer is a Canadian ex minister, now 82, who is on the side of disclosure, and now I have to discover if he indeed spoke before the powers that be could shut him up, and if so what he said.
Major Ed Dames, another US military official (retired) teaches remote viewing, but before he reitres wants to film a meeting with an alien, by February 2006. My 'loony radar' went off at full power, besides the fact he is an accredited and official expert, but even the mighty can fall. Once this does or does not occur Howard Hughes and myself will report the result. But I won't be getting very excited in advance.
Finally, I was just reporting these issues on a forum, when I realised the only supernatural events in my life have been my own abilities and results from meditation. Neither took the slightest effort, I simply did as I was told by a teacher and certainly the first times they worked. How they tailed off after that is probably subconscious mental sabotage, as if you can do something once, it's possible. I can still do some things but the big stuff like seeing auras has evaded me most of the time since I first managed it.
There was a very rare occurence today, a woman, my sort of age and nice actually came and spoke to me in Syon Park garden centre. I saw her in a furniture shop there and when we came out (I went with my father) she came and spoke to us about the furniture, and was very friendly. This (especially in London) happens so rarely it really makes an impression, though she sounded like she was from Newcastle or Norway (can be hard to tell...) where they would speak to normal looking people in furniture shops they didn't know. Then we saw her in the cafe but we weren't eating yet, but though I said hello again she didn't draw me back into conversation as I was considering getting her contact details if she had. But it just shows if you wait long enough and mix with people things can happen eventually.
The current two supernatural issues Howard Hughes has turned up for me on Talk Sport radio are on my system now until they die as all before them have. Paul Hellyer was meant to speak to a Toronto conference on governments holding secret information on aliens. Mr Hellyer is a Canadian ex minister, now 82, who is on the side of disclosure, and now I have to discover if he indeed spoke before the powers that be could shut him up, and if so what he said.
Major Ed Dames, another US military official (retired) teaches remote viewing, but before he reitres wants to film a meeting with an alien, by February 2006. My 'loony radar' went off at full power, besides the fact he is an accredited and official expert, but even the mighty can fall. Once this does or does not occur Howard Hughes and myself will report the result. But I won't be getting very excited in advance.
Finally, I was just reporting these issues on a forum, when I realised the only supernatural events in my life have been my own abilities and results from meditation. Neither took the slightest effort, I simply did as I was told by a teacher and certainly the first times they worked. How they tailed off after that is probably subconscious mental sabotage, as if you can do something once, it's possible. I can still do some things but the big stuff like seeing auras has evaded me most of the time since I first managed it.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Being right
This is really more of an article than a blog entry, but as it relates to where I am at the moment, there isn’t anywhere else I can put it.
I read this twice in two different books within about a week, and realised how true it is. Being successful and being right doesn’t necessarily make you happy. I spent time since I was doing my A levels having to discover principles in life to pass my exams, which then became incorporated into my booklet on counselling in 1995, and I’ve been finding new ones ever since, which I post here as well now. But I did realise, though they are very useful, particularly for my therapy clients, being right doesn’t make you happy. When I was a child I knew none of these principles, fucked up all the time but I was happy. Now, at 45 I have more of a guide to life, and understand situations at a level few do (believe me, I can show you). The people who know the most about these principles of situations we all face in life and can learn to both recognise and utilise are TV producers.
I’ve never seen so many complex and perceptive awareness of human situations than in good TV programmes. Childrens’ programmes, which have a particular educational aspect often put these principles in deliberately. I have now updated my list (written in assorted notebooks in whichever room I’m in when I think of them), and will put them into a second booklet (for my own use this time) as soon as I’ve found them all.
So, in the past, I used to go around blind, and not know what to do in any situation, wind up all sorts of people to the extent many wouldn’t speak to me again, and failed most of my O levels on the first attempt. Occasionally a friend would spot what I was doing and fill me in on simple principles, but most was trial and error, and working out the particular from the general. This allows me to use cognitive therapy at work as I have a database of strategies for most situations, and my clients (who are nearly all far far more successful than me) haven’t. They realise they are more interested in clearing up the few bits of their life that aren’t working, and my principles can do that. But my own life is so incredibly controlled and organised and a complete failure!
Let me explain. Some success lasts, others are temporary. So I picked up some lasting successes, with my qualifications and my house. Oh. That’s it. The house, over what tomorrow will be ten years, is now full of every piece of furniture and technology I need and have room for. Yet it’s an empty house. I sit either in front of the computer, TV or radio, all upgraded to what were pretty good models when I got them, but alone. So business wise, though while I had money coming in I was able to collect items, I now have them all and so what? I am able to keep myself vicariously occupied listening to other people on the radio or online messaging, but unless people come over, it’s an empty house the rest of the time. There is no principle on earth (to expand my friends point) that can bring suitable people into your life. Sure, spend as much time meeting people as you can until you do. But as many more mature people say, they went out to meet people so they needn’t go out any more. Discos were not places I went to for fun, but to pull women. Parties were a laugh sometimes but if you don’t pull the fun wains by the second hour. Courses are for education. Since my degree I’ve never met a proper friend on all my part time courses, besides the fact I did travel 15 miles to them, which doesn’t help, though there were many very nice and interesting people there, by the time people are reaching 30 they already have their lives and unlike at school don’t care to pick new friends up by then. I also went to meditation and psychic groups, and the people there were often on the borders of mental illness. Many people use them to try and find a way out, and though affluent and frequently educated, none had anything for me. So I learnt counselling, meditation, psychic development and shamanic practice, but none of these provided new friends.
At the time, my old friends from school were still around but I always add new ones where they arrive, but it didn’t happen.
But to return to principles, I have now a list of new ones that keep coming to me with no effort on my part to look for them. I just see a situation and realise what’s going on. Quite an asset really, especially if it was part of a job, but each time I recognise a new formula it makes no apparent different to my life besides being able to understand what’s going on and handle it properly. So, by writing this, I’ve actually worked it out. Understanding skills are only marginally connected with acquisitive skills. Therefore you can be the most understanding person but not gain a bloody thing from it as actually going out and getting things is as different as switching from juggling to crosswords. The skills seem totally different. Interestingly as in the wider world, this applies the same way in blogs. I’ve been deliberately leaving comments on blogs I read now to use as links back here. Did it work? Did it bollocks… I really wonder what people like reading besides news comment, which can already be read in every newsagent on earth. I read numerous styles, from the teenage ramblings I know I never made when I was a teenager, to similar ones to my own, and others I can barely follow. There are also the geek blogs which only analyse the latest geeky boxes with new displays and rams, and I can, again, read a magazine in the library if I want a review of the latest technology. So why the fucking bloody hell do only a few people seem to read my blog, least of all make comments? I have to show off for a minute here just to make my point, I have been writing all my life. It has got me numerous commissions in professional journals and qualifications, so is clearly good enough academically to stand up. The difference is here it’s about me, as I always say, because it’s my diary. If I want to write about almost anything else it either goes in the forums or in an article. And enough people say they like what I write in forums to affirm my ability. I had one critic who said I went on too much and was boring, but from where she was coming from she clearly preferred a more tabloid approach and found anything more serious totally boring. But there have to be other nerds out there like me who write and read deeper stuff, so now I’ve done some more marketing, where are they? As I discovered recently, I wrote to try and open a new career and painted for relaxation, but ended up with my paintings being the only area that may make any money. Of course a successful TV appearance is above all but a best selling book or major newspaper article, possibly even equal with. That could break the inertia of my career to the professional from the amateur level, but as I said before, until its shown I have to work on it from all other angles as well. None have any guarantees so all have to be pursued equally until one or more pays off. So though I have reached an unavoidable level of understanding, I have near non-existent marketing and acquisitive skills, as can be seen in my situation. Let’s see if I can start from the beginning on that course now I know what I need to learn.
I read this twice in two different books within about a week, and realised how true it is. Being successful and being right doesn’t necessarily make you happy. I spent time since I was doing my A levels having to discover principles in life to pass my exams, which then became incorporated into my booklet on counselling in 1995, and I’ve been finding new ones ever since, which I post here as well now. But I did realise, though they are very useful, particularly for my therapy clients, being right doesn’t make you happy. When I was a child I knew none of these principles, fucked up all the time but I was happy. Now, at 45 I have more of a guide to life, and understand situations at a level few do (believe me, I can show you). The people who know the most about these principles of situations we all face in life and can learn to both recognise and utilise are TV producers.
I’ve never seen so many complex and perceptive awareness of human situations than in good TV programmes. Childrens’ programmes, which have a particular educational aspect often put these principles in deliberately. I have now updated my list (written in assorted notebooks in whichever room I’m in when I think of them), and will put them into a second booklet (for my own use this time) as soon as I’ve found them all.
So, in the past, I used to go around blind, and not know what to do in any situation, wind up all sorts of people to the extent many wouldn’t speak to me again, and failed most of my O levels on the first attempt. Occasionally a friend would spot what I was doing and fill me in on simple principles, but most was trial and error, and working out the particular from the general. This allows me to use cognitive therapy at work as I have a database of strategies for most situations, and my clients (who are nearly all far far more successful than me) haven’t. They realise they are more interested in clearing up the few bits of their life that aren’t working, and my principles can do that. But my own life is so incredibly controlled and organised and a complete failure!
Let me explain. Some success lasts, others are temporary. So I picked up some lasting successes, with my qualifications and my house. Oh. That’s it. The house, over what tomorrow will be ten years, is now full of every piece of furniture and technology I need and have room for. Yet it’s an empty house. I sit either in front of the computer, TV or radio, all upgraded to what were pretty good models when I got them, but alone. So business wise, though while I had money coming in I was able to collect items, I now have them all and so what? I am able to keep myself vicariously occupied listening to other people on the radio or online messaging, but unless people come over, it’s an empty house the rest of the time. There is no principle on earth (to expand my friends point) that can bring suitable people into your life. Sure, spend as much time meeting people as you can until you do. But as many more mature people say, they went out to meet people so they needn’t go out any more. Discos were not places I went to for fun, but to pull women. Parties were a laugh sometimes but if you don’t pull the fun wains by the second hour. Courses are for education. Since my degree I’ve never met a proper friend on all my part time courses, besides the fact I did travel 15 miles to them, which doesn’t help, though there were many very nice and interesting people there, by the time people are reaching 30 they already have their lives and unlike at school don’t care to pick new friends up by then. I also went to meditation and psychic groups, and the people there were often on the borders of mental illness. Many people use them to try and find a way out, and though affluent and frequently educated, none had anything for me. So I learnt counselling, meditation, psychic development and shamanic practice, but none of these provided new friends.
At the time, my old friends from school were still around but I always add new ones where they arrive, but it didn’t happen.
But to return to principles, I have now a list of new ones that keep coming to me with no effort on my part to look for them. I just see a situation and realise what’s going on. Quite an asset really, especially if it was part of a job, but each time I recognise a new formula it makes no apparent different to my life besides being able to understand what’s going on and handle it properly. So, by writing this, I’ve actually worked it out. Understanding skills are only marginally connected with acquisitive skills. Therefore you can be the most understanding person but not gain a bloody thing from it as actually going out and getting things is as different as switching from juggling to crosswords. The skills seem totally different. Interestingly as in the wider world, this applies the same way in blogs. I’ve been deliberately leaving comments on blogs I read now to use as links back here. Did it work? Did it bollocks… I really wonder what people like reading besides news comment, which can already be read in every newsagent on earth. I read numerous styles, from the teenage ramblings I know I never made when I was a teenager, to similar ones to my own, and others I can barely follow. There are also the geek blogs which only analyse the latest geeky boxes with new displays and rams, and I can, again, read a magazine in the library if I want a review of the latest technology. So why the fucking bloody hell do only a few people seem to read my blog, least of all make comments? I have to show off for a minute here just to make my point, I have been writing all my life. It has got me numerous commissions in professional journals and qualifications, so is clearly good enough academically to stand up. The difference is here it’s about me, as I always say, because it’s my diary. If I want to write about almost anything else it either goes in the forums or in an article. And enough people say they like what I write in forums to affirm my ability. I had one critic who said I went on too much and was boring, but from where she was coming from she clearly preferred a more tabloid approach and found anything more serious totally boring. But there have to be other nerds out there like me who write and read deeper stuff, so now I’ve done some more marketing, where are they? As I discovered recently, I wrote to try and open a new career and painted for relaxation, but ended up with my paintings being the only area that may make any money. Of course a successful TV appearance is above all but a best selling book or major newspaper article, possibly even equal with. That could break the inertia of my career to the professional from the amateur level, but as I said before, until its shown I have to work on it from all other angles as well. None have any guarantees so all have to be pursued equally until one or more pays off. So though I have reached an unavoidable level of understanding, I have near non-existent marketing and acquisitive skills, as can be seen in my situation. Let’s see if I can start from the beginning on that course now I know what I need to learn.
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Oh no!!!
Fuck me, what's the worst possible thing you can turn up with a search engine?
I think a Russian 404 error must take the top prize for the last thing anyone outside (and possibly inside Russia) would ever want to see. Bastards!
(if I can be arsed to work out how to do a full screenshot I'll add it later)
404 - Page Not Found
Рубрики раздела:
Новости »
Политика »
Война и мир »
Антисемитизм »
Наши люди »
Интервью »
Культура »
Религия »
Делу время »
Криминал »
Sem40-Панорама »
Обратная связь »
Полезные ссылки
Обмен ссылками
Приносим извинения, но запрошенный Вами документ не найден на сервере.
Если помните, с какой страницы вы сюда пришли, cообщите об этом нам и мы исправим ошибку.
Будем признательны, если в теме письма вы укажите "404".
Чтобы найти нужные вам материалы воспользуйтесь поиском или картой сайта.
I think a Russian 404 error must take the top prize for the last thing anyone outside (and possibly inside Russia) would ever want to see. Bastards!
(if I can be arsed to work out how to do a full screenshot I'll add it later)
404 - Page Not Found
Рубрики раздела:
Новости »
Политика »
Война и мир »
Антисемитизм »
Наши люди »
Интервью »
Культура »
Религия »
Делу время »
Криминал »
Sem40-Панорама »
Обратная связь »
Полезные ссылки
Обмен ссылками
Приносим извинения, но запрошенный Вами документ не найден на сервере.
Если помните, с какой страницы вы сюда пришли, cообщите об этом нам и мы исправим ошибку.
Будем признательны, если в теме письма вы укажите "404".
Чтобы найти нужные вам материалы воспользуйтесь поиском или картой сайта.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Use it while you can
As my car won't officially be back till tomorrow, I thought I'd use the time to visit here early again, last night was a long one, as you can see by the lengthy post below, and I'm feeling the effects today. A week without a car is about as much as I would want, I do have things I have to do now and can't use the few weights I have in the house to make up for missing the gym.
So while I spent yesterday on the computer most of the time, though I've done my usual correpondence already, I am getting back to chores which I can cross of the list one by one while I have nothing else to do. There's actually some TV worth watching tonight, including the Cinderella of all that comes only every 7 years, 49 up. For those who don't live in the UK, it's followed a number of children from what must be 1964 to the present day, in true pre-big brother fashion, watching what they do every 7 years. I actually remember the first one, though as they weave the old with the new it may be the repeats, but I watched TV all my life and probably did see it then. Unfortunately one or two have dropped out, which is always a shame, but it carries on with the second half tonight after the other last week.
So the front door frame's had another coat of paint and I've mowed the lawn, and may start another picture soon as there's no TV for ages. Yesterday I only spoke to the people in the late night grocers, and today I spoke to my neighbour for a minute. I'm becoming a fucking hermit at this rate, and for someone as social as I am means I'm forced to either do what I always did and find ways to amuse myself, or email and phone people I can't see in person. It shows it can't make people strange, as if anything was enough to turn someone peculiar my life would be. I haven't ever talked to myself or any objects, made a shrine to a celebrity, stalked anybody, started a fringe political party or taken drugs, all the things isolation is often blamed for. It's the wrong way round from the weirdos I know at least. They start off relatively normal and then become isolated after they've gone funny as a result rather than a cause. And for me, living in a city makes it far worse as you barely know anyone around you, and there's no small community to get involved with, especially when you all grew up together. I would have been perfect in a small town somewhere where everyone knew each other's business and except for the trips to Newton Abbott or Paignton once a week or two, everything you needed was contained within a couple of miles. Im mention those places as I spent 21 years in Devon every summer plus four easters as well, and people in Totnes, the nearest town, would remember me whenever I arrived though it may have been a year since I was last there. So if I can fit in in a community after a few weeks a year since the age of 8, imagine if I'd lived there all that time. The funny thing is how isolated Dartmoor and beyond into Cornwall is. I used to go riding there and exploring, and now I guarantee some of the farmer's cottages up a mile of tracks a few miles from the nearest other building would be on broadband now, while half of North London isn't. The women are a damn sight easier out there as well, by the way.
So while I spent yesterday on the computer most of the time, though I've done my usual correpondence already, I am getting back to chores which I can cross of the list one by one while I have nothing else to do. There's actually some TV worth watching tonight, including the Cinderella of all that comes only every 7 years, 49 up. For those who don't live in the UK, it's followed a number of children from what must be 1964 to the present day, in true pre-big brother fashion, watching what they do every 7 years. I actually remember the first one, though as they weave the old with the new it may be the repeats, but I watched TV all my life and probably did see it then. Unfortunately one or two have dropped out, which is always a shame, but it carries on with the second half tonight after the other last week.
So the front door frame's had another coat of paint and I've mowed the lawn, and may start another picture soon as there's no TV for ages. Yesterday I only spoke to the people in the late night grocers, and today I spoke to my neighbour for a minute. I'm becoming a fucking hermit at this rate, and for someone as social as I am means I'm forced to either do what I always did and find ways to amuse myself, or email and phone people I can't see in person. It shows it can't make people strange, as if anything was enough to turn someone peculiar my life would be. I haven't ever talked to myself or any objects, made a shrine to a celebrity, stalked anybody, started a fringe political party or taken drugs, all the things isolation is often blamed for. It's the wrong way round from the weirdos I know at least. They start off relatively normal and then become isolated after they've gone funny as a result rather than a cause. And for me, living in a city makes it far worse as you barely know anyone around you, and there's no small community to get involved with, especially when you all grew up together. I would have been perfect in a small town somewhere where everyone knew each other's business and except for the trips to Newton Abbott or Paignton once a week or two, everything you needed was contained within a couple of miles. Im mention those places as I spent 21 years in Devon every summer plus four easters as well, and people in Totnes, the nearest town, would remember me whenever I arrived though it may have been a year since I was last there. So if I can fit in in a community after a few weeks a year since the age of 8, imagine if I'd lived there all that time. The funny thing is how isolated Dartmoor and beyond into Cornwall is. I used to go riding there and exploring, and now I guarantee some of the farmer's cottages up a mile of tracks a few miles from the nearest other building would be on broadband now, while half of North London isn't. The women are a damn sight easier out there as well, by the way.
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