Cricklewood on a Saturday

Talk about busy! What a week! But I rose to any occasion and whatever I did was done properly, for a change. I needn't look back, just be pleased I've done it. 217 photos arrived today and of course weren't a surprise as I'd already seen them on the screen, but need to have nonetheless. One oddity was when I sent someone an email yesterday she also got her own returned on a blank form so despite doing nothing myself proves it can happen by accident. Weird. So there's a tiny chance Christine's little faux pas was no more than a button press than an intentional act of war. My arse in reality but at least I've seen it happen and at a very coincidental time.

I've cleared all my work for a week, plenty next week but so far nearly all totally routine, and the sort of business I do need. I also discovered my little course on post traumatic stress disorder comes with its own certificate. It's one element of an 8 part diploma and didn't realise you got each certificate per subject which is a nice bonus. 6000 words is a pretty reasonable assignement so worth a nice piece of paper. Now for the pleasure side. Getting stuff out of the way in itself provides some pleasure, but indirectly and pretty temporary. But the rest of it remains to be seen. I got the TV schedule indirectly from the last 2 series of Mystery Hunters. It's a 26 part series, starting in January with 5 shows a week so mine will be randomly assigned on any date within 5 weeks but of course I will be told which in advance which is about a month ahead and the emails will fly around again. The last 2 times hardly anyone had Sky (as I always expected few people besides the lonely and addicted waste money on more channels of mainly crap) and only about 6 people actually saw it altogether I knew. So the same ones can see it the next time and I think I'll get maybe 10 minutes for my scene as opposed to 3 in the last. It all helps.

Now for the two remaining women on my system. One has missed the hints as she wondered if I'd met anyone yet (yes, her...) so next time it won't be a hint, it'll be a metaphorical hand on the tit. The other is still around and the only question is 'friend or more?'. Only she will be able to tell me that. Nothing more I can do on them and if anyone else comes along it'll save me all the trouble waiting for them, like that would ever happen. The internet has been relatively dead recently, few new blog entries though the Flickr sites are buzzing. I would have taken more pictures today but had an appointment. I'm now on places I've never seen but have bridges and railway lines which always make good shots. And I see so many local corners I didn't know existed until I went to take a picture there. Going abroad has its points but after you've done it a number of times just look around closer and you'll see a lot you didn't know was there. Even Cricklewood has its moments and I found that was a surprise.

Rubber emails

Another day another something or other. No idea what. So when I get a break I come here. Glad to see there are other people around content to stay at home a lot though. I used to get so bored staying in I see it as a positive that especially if not alone I'm quite happy to stay in and around the house. Holidays end up being repeats of tours, shops, beaches and sign language, with possible breaks for diarrhea. Big deal. See a sample of the world, satisfy yourself half of it is worse than where you are already and leave them to themselves. Nothing to see here. Especially the Parisian toilets.
So while I remain at home what happens? The cleaner clears the remains of two weeks of living, like the vultures clear a dead body of flesh, only mine grows back every fortnight. The cat is here with me on my lap, the radio on the internet and a few hours before I go to bed I suppose. There really aren't any issues on the go at the moment, but most shit is swept up by time passing and a little effort so it's not too bad now. There is always a sense of achievement getting unpleasant work done. I become more and more sensitive as the years pass so more and more bothers me which didn't used to. Hopefully this will fluctuate as tolerance levels do change over time and as last year pushed mine to the limits I can lose my reactions again as they have subsided. Meanwhile I go through the routines we all have to occupy us, and what more can anyone do? I suppose the explorers like to go out and explore as I once did, and probably because in the 70s it didn't cost me anything I could travel across Europe and beyond with no need to do a thing for it. Many people didn't so once they have the means to do it themselves start late. I started early and after being stranded in many holes in far flung places had quite enough of it in the end. Day trips are fine, but weeks are hit and miss, relying on the right people and hotels and if you get a good one the country is irrelevant as you stay there and sit by the pool all day.

Well, I'm not often lost for words though do run out of websites to visit sometimes. I really wonder if anyone on earth has had the gall to copy and paste someone's email and send it back to them as a reply or I'm the first person to receive such a pointless and immature act. Let me know if you've heard of it.

Why do I always get the piece with the hair in it?

Unable to resist the urge to write despite the total lack of material, I carry on. The first thing I thought of was how my family has the best names for farts I’ve come across. The top 3 are “Have you done a windy”, “Have you made a smell” and the simple but direct “Have you done something?” Everyone knows exactly what they mean. I imagine in the Peruvian jungle someone says in Inca the exact equivalent of “Have you done something” while most of the men sheepishly point at the monkeys hoping no one will believe them.
Following the little gaseous diversion, what else can I tell both of you (if I’m lucky) nowadays about life in and around Kingsbury? Sod all really. If it can go right on the pleasure front it goes wrong. For a hell of a long time. The email replies are unnecessarily absent from people who actually liked me once. My arse. I look for more continuously, and having found it mainly lies with the company of other people have turned up blanks for ages. I’m not sure if my attitude of enjoying someone’s company without the need for elaborate arrangements has put anyone off, the fact I moan about being single, or the simple fact that being so makes me stand out like a leper in a Mexican wave (think about it). So all but the pains in the arse avoid me, those who the rest of London have dodged and I didn’t manage to, so am left with their assumption I’m their best friend having not told them to piss off when they called me like everyone else apparently did.

So the apparently endless routine carries on with such minor variations they don’t stick in the memory for long. Did I go to the local grocer’s or the supermarket? Besides my photos and my painting there’s little else to liven things up, and that’s about it. Does everything good either take ages to happen or not even exist? Or start when you’re a child and then go away? Don’t ask me, I only know how it has been for me. And when I expect more and get less then I have to ask myself whether I expect too much and don’t put enough in? I doubt it. It’s all about knowing the tricks and short cuts, effort is little or nothing to do with it. I expect I put in as much effort as most people, you don’t get as many qualifications as I have by slacking, and since then besides losing the only jobs I got I didn’t need to kill myself for exam deadlines any more or anything else like too many other idiots seem to do. Why should life need to be an effort to achieve anything? Does everyone with the best things mean they worked the hardest? I doubt it. Like the bad people getting just as much if not more than the good really. I am judging myself to get in before others.

Otherwise I can judge what’s right in front of me. Same as usual. And on weekends I start by looking at the past week and then trying to avoid looking at the next. At least the busy week has been done, and next seems relatively quiet though not totally. Having embarrassed myself with the second and possibly last mutual woman of my life but nothing took place as I got sidetracked, what will the next fiasco be? Letting a follow through go during a session? Having a woman see what I wrote about her here without knowing she could find it? I haven’t even got any plans that can be fucked up at the moment, but things always can anyway. This is the year where the only thing I had keeping me same was the promise I’d be on TV. That was a lie and I ended up with the empty desert of what there is. As I say, do I expect too much or do I deserve everything I don’t get? One mystery after another.

Back again, again

I'll be honest, besides being tied to the computer with web radio I may not have dared blog today for lack of new material. Has this ever stopped me before? No. So I continue. Nothing on the system besides the next Friends site reply, nice at least someone not only wanted to but did remember me. I sent one to someone else I knew who was because I started finding some people on my own schools didn't register themselves there but did elsewhere and a number popped up that way, though why they leave one out I don't know. One just had their primary school.
So nothing has come from that. The woman from the past will remain in the past, talk about closure, this is like hermetic sealing. Bugger. Otherwise life goes on as everyday and my major jobs get done one by one very slowly to conserve energy. Like any lottery if you buy enough tickets you should win eventually. People are not guaranteed to win even if you try everyone on earth. If one person from the past or new from the net became a friend/partner it would fill the main gap at the moment. Many online would do if they lived around here but people from the past presumably intended to be there or they would still be around. So what put my second possible love off? I'd say either: 1) She's got a new bloke (98%) 2) She hated my current photo (1%) and 3) She will never forgive me (1%). All are terminal, I think the worst would be if she didn't like my photo. Mind you, statistically she's broken up with one bloke already, if she does again she may remember me suddenly. How many times can you miss someone before you finally get it together? Eroded cervixes are really not my thing, besides other wrinkly phenomena so I'd really like this one before the menopause if it isn't already too late for that.

On a quick diversion, my number plate magazine just printed every banned UK number plate. It was like a kid's toilet wall. Now how many club journals would print rude words from A to Z for technical reasons beats me but this could be a second (the first would be the old UK format I presume with far fewer variations and all blindingly obvious and well known). Having 5 letters now the mind truly boggles. WA 01 NKS springs to mind as a pretty typical example for those also affiliated with Beavis and Butthead.
No plans at the moment besides work bookings (boring...). Photos all taken for now though if I get up early enough I can probably drag a few more ideas out. More solitary pursuits as usual. And why do all the best potential projects and decisions regarding people always fail? From my friend leaving the country for at least 7 years to the twice rejected woman being apparently free and now not interested is the main reason my tone is so bitter and twisted. Why can't just one person be interested in me the same time I am in them? No luck in the gym, I have tried a few but most were taken or probably taken and the others either too old or simply not interested. It's 4 years this week and unless someone new arrives who actually speaks to other people (only the men talk and then only after a couple of years) it won't provide me with anyone despite some real crackers. The one set up for me looked like a Lord of the Rings reject and spent the whole evening criticising me after describing every previous boyfriend and how badly they treated her. I can well understand why. OK, if I did the paper bag over her face theory I would have but not a lot more.

This week was successful as far as my tasks but little more. Predictable besides a couple of alterations of time or cancellations but no surprises besides one email reply. First frost tonight so huge gas bills ahead. Can this pattern last for life? God forbid.

See the light guys, it's here somewhere

I'm not going to write about recent events much now, but let myself run free. There is a lot in my mind and if it comes out as if tripping (something I've never done and never will) maybe it will be readable. No plans besides that. I can't eff and blind on my public sites but we can here so whatever arrives will be written.
Firstly I am at a total loss to understand how women can be so totally against my own interests where sex and marriage require two consenting people to be mutually satisfied. Every woman I've met for 30 years or so has not been mutually anything. My interests conflict with theirs every time. If I move they move away and vice versa. Even when we move together another force intervenes before anything happens. If I was in analysis now this would be what would come out. One thought following another with no requirement for structure or sense.
Life is like that anyway so why shouldn't writing follow it? Mine is so fucking chaotic I'm currently involved in potentially the world record longest courtship and ready to propose to a woman I haven't seen for 32 years if she'd actually reply to my email. I know exactly what works now having thought of little else since I was 10 and they always disagree with my opinion. Besides killing someone, getting myself all over the tabloids and then marrying one of the sick bitches who befriend convicted murderers I'll be alone for life and have no children even if I offered to pay someone to have one.

Cynical? Who wouldn't be? People are the hardest items on earth to arrange, you can train a dog easily, a cat with difficulty and a person not at all unless they're your own child. And as I just said that may never happen every person in my life is totally out of my control. Not that I'd want to that much, but just a little. Grandma would like to control every person the way a child arranges their toy soldiers but I'd just blow a few old friends back in the area plus one partner and that would be enough. No chance Jose. I have done the equivalent by email of the old phone trick where I call every woman I know in case they want to see me and am sitting at home alone with no date. The last one was not a failure though I was ill at the time and she was literally untouchable but that is part of the longest courtship and I don't know if I even want to keep her if I get her. And I've had precious little chance to find out.

Otherwise I am just carrying on as per normal. No plans any more, plans haven't worked since I finished my last course in about 2001 but nothing else in life is as organised as education. Getting a job is a fiasco which I gave up a couple of years ago (looking, not having one), and I've lost little as a result. Quality should be more important and I have used the time to do whatever I do a lot better like practising an instrument. Even my quiz scores have improved by about 50% as I do so many each day I learn piles of new information. And (kayn ayn nehorreh) a couple of people I know have said how clever I am. At last. People are beginning to notice. Now when I organise concepts few others even with the diplomas can't manage to do I know I must be onto something. I can't do everything, just my own field. But spotting and understanding patterns is something few people seem to be able to do. You get geniuses in one or two specialised areas but few with the wide view. I'm not actually a genius as whatever the required IQ I had one test and however close I got you don't get a second chance like an exam. I couldn't care less, no one in history I have ever come across has put 'genius' on their CV. Or even mentioned it. But I can't as I'm not. But today I met one of the group of potential geniuses by results. He, like the rest of our group, knows things without prior study. I mean the sort of things huge companies pay you to do while their PhDs can't getclose to solving clever. I know a few of these guys, some in science and I seem to be able to in philosophy.
No effort involved, we just know things and then can't get our view across as we haven't got the data to prove it. But we know it's right and if anyone does study it properly usually proves it.

I could get arrested for some of the things I know. I can say certain rules are designed not because they stop bad behaviour but power. The people who make them do not avoid it themselves, they stop others doing it, whatever it it may be. Look at all the laws made by communists or fascists or religions where the rulemakers do exactly what they kill others for doing. They know why and they have no doubt what they are doing but have the power to do so. Hypocrisy at the highest level. Masons and many other secret societies are only secret because they try and find ways to break the law in private as they know what I do one way or another. They include many powerful people who protect each other if they ever get caught to try and wriggle out of any consequences. Again I can't name names or anything more than say if you read David Icke you'll get a rough idea as he does little else but check these guys out. He misses some of the points as he focuses on the real bastards. I include those who do nothing wrong besides breaking taboos. But look behind most taboos and you find vested interests. Don't mention something because it will let something out, not because it'll hurt someone. Trust me. Most things are taboo because they're true. Black people in Britain commit more crime. Taboo. Say it and get punished more than the black people who mugged someone and just got community service. That's one I'm prepared to mention as a pretty good example of mind control. It's not wrong, it's not racist, it's the truth, but god forbid anyone on this hellhole of an island should say it and the whole fucking sky comes down on them. People in power hate the masses to know the truth. Global warming. The shit I saw comeing ten years ago just hit the fan. They will tax us like Harold Wilson in his dreams because of avoiding carbon dioxide emissions.

The devil himself couldn't have created a better formula.

1) Carbon dioxide is a natural product which fluctuates throughout history

2) The results of increases aren't known

3) Ours has not increased much yet and can't be assessed unless it does

4) There's no known connection between our activity, CO2 emissions and any form of climate change

5) Taxing people won't stop CO2 emissions, it'll just fuck up the country till we're like Albania

But they are doing it, and why? Because hardly anyone with a brain dares to challenge them. So I have to. Get the point?

London revisited

Yes, I've got no one to talk to and also missed a rare guest on parallel universes on the radio for an hour. So I'm back here after what I would call a day off. Days off feel twice as important when you're meant to be working, and as I was (twice) and didn't I noticed the difference in contrast. I fixed my other blog by downloading Firefox so at least I can do something again, and when I tried IE7 it refused to install it. But I'll carry on as I am and see if anything new happens. One day I'll overlap so much imagination with my blog here as by wishing for things to happen it could feel like it had really happened even though it hadn't. It's a recognised part of magic, not original. It's supposed to attact it in but in my experience if you're waiting for anything it's only when you forget about it it stands a chance of happening.

So I emailed the Spaniard again (last time) yesterday and as with all 5 women heard sod all. A pattern has formed like a crop circle here, I do the work and get nothing in return. And the fact you want something more always seems to stop it happening as well. I have sussed the resistance formula as resisting feelings causes tension which holds them. That is physics not metaphysics and makes sense. It says in a book if your muscles are relaxed nothing can bother you. I see that as an exagerration, I recognise you can reach points where little can but not sure why. If I could find a way to extend them until they become normal the Indians would call me a saint (they value more useful qualities than the Christians), and as I know such states do exist it's something to try for. I detailed this week's two latest coincidences, and though there is no use of any of them they keep happening.
Possibly by being forced to talk (inwardly) to myself I can work out one by one each area of life until I may have more than most. And unlike some academics they are not theories that I like, they are discoveries of what is already there. They work for people. They rarely help me but save me getting my ideas wrong of what works and what doesn't, but I keep finding new traps each one I kill. Endless?

Meanwhile I saw a picture of a 4 bedroom house in Golders Green which I will visit outside sometime and see if the run down road is as bad as I expect or actually habitable, as I'm sure the house itself is fine. My best friend left the area in 2002, not for round the corner but Florida, and that was the last connection I had with it. So only by living there myself could I solve that gap. Jews return to Israel, London Jews return to Golders Green. It's like coming home after living abroad for 14 years. Of course over a lifetime I've had bad experiences there as well but it's like my family in extended version. I used to see the rough parts (some still are, but far enough west to avoid) but now see the people, memories and nice bits that separate it from similar suburbs like Kenton, Wembley or Finchley. They are typical but dead. They may as well be abroad for all I care about them, and besides Church End most of Finchley Central is a dump. Wembley and Kenton are bland and featureless. The relatively newly discovered Preston Road, the only main shopping centre nowhere near a town, is the best bit, but after years of visits has lost its charm somewhat. Londoners will know exactly what I mean, but others can get a view of it (which they can then do image searches for) and see exactly what I mean. And many of the photos are mine, though Flickr images are somehow excluded from search engines. Except Flickr of course.

Rambling on

It's odd how if you're meant to be working and sneak off everything you do seems far more interesting. My first appointment cancelled today only really leaving me to do another job but I went to the park on a sunny day, a part I'd never even seen until I saw an entrance on a map, and got some more pictures, which means I can get them included in the prints I'll be ordering later. I filled the day quite happily with little jobs mainly online and sod the work, it isn't even paid a lot and not worth the time and effort involved.
Otherwise it's only half a day since my last report, and my Funtrivia blog seems dead while the other faulty ones are reviving. I have to send that email today, nothing will help and I doubt if I send it now or next week it'll make any difference. Non events every time. And whatever I expect that's any good tends to be a non event, like a stillbirth however different anyone having suffered from that may think it is. If you add every disappointment in our lives together, they are all the same. Only a matter of degree but the effect is the same. And this particular disappointment is one I shouldn't have to be making a writing exercise out of. Out of every possible pleasure situation this could be the second most potential result had it gone to plan.

But no, any offer that has been made to me was a limited time offer. Mine ran out when I didn't take it up around 1984, and having been married and divorced she is clearly uninterested in following up any more aggravation even though I would not provide any more than wanting her to travel to London sometimes. Permanently. Instead I have the immovable and untouchable object located closer but harder to reach and to park if I did. St Pancras is one of those areas Heironymous Bosch must have drawn upon for inspiration of his visions of hell. People can get used to anywhere but even if I'd lived there all my early life I'd have done all I could to get away. If someone visits Hampstead or Highgate after languishing in Hackney or Camden Town why would they ever want to stay there if they could afford not to? All the people round Stamford Hill moved to Golders Green and beyond as soon as they had the chance, but some people in shit areas choose to stay there. Beats me. But when I want to go out with one of them I am more and more inclined to avoid such areas as it almost feels like I'll catch something.

One day I'll probably be able to afford such a move myself, not to suburbia as I have always been there, but to middle class suburbia. I want to return to Hampstead Garden Suburb but the prices have risen so much I would only get somewhere smaller than this, and just saw a house in Golders Green with 4 bedrooms for a good deal less. It would be like moving to Israel. And the shopping- imagine all that within walking distance? Civilised (though insular) neighbours, and I could ride my bike to Temple Fortune, Central Square and beyond which I certainly can't now. Worth considering, the extra bedroom would be really useful. All fantasy for now but after buying many houses forward planning stops mistakes. If I could bear the pestering I'd spend the winter looking inside all the houses so I knew even though I'm not yet buying but I'd be called all day every day by agents and will just wait till it happens if it does.
I think I've run out...

Missing the target

OK, I'm desperate to post on my Funtrivia blog and as it's been well and truly fercuckt for a few days now I'm here again instead. Haircut succeeded late but certain. I may be free tomorrow so I'm not in bed like a good boy but as they have ghost stories on the radio I wouldn't be sleeping anyway so may as well write as I listen.

Philosophy time. There are three lives. The real one, the ideals I remember and the ideals I imagine. Would it be so hard to shift to if not the same I remember but at least one similar enough to feel right? Everything's out of adjustment here: No people around, no local or work community to mix with, mental and physical problems, and all projects reach no more than a fraction of their potential. I'm 46 already for Christ's sake, and should have made it in at least one area rather than have all my senses eroded to the point of near insanity. I need something to draw me back and that will only come in the form of a miracle unless I can somehow heal naturally which is theoretically also possible. But a miracle is needed and one would be actually finishing a job I started in 1974.

The lost girlfriend now found for the 4th time is like a film. A theme which returns every 10 years but so far with no conclusion. I will either take action soon as in when I log off here or next week, but action I will take as I have a certain key to this problem and it is one of my own making as I described before. It will still involve a 40 plus mile journey if I win but if anything would get me to travel she would. Consequences will only be known if I do, but I've made similar journeys most of my life so it's hardly an ordeal. But looking at the other women I know the single one I stand any chance with (5%) is fine in the main respect, but not, as the Yanks say, a keeper from what I've picked up so far. Great for purpose #1 but unlikely to stay my course as my tolerance levels can't take certain levels of noise. Unless she calms down a heck of a lot which is possible but not that likely from what I've seen.

So in comparison though the woman from the far reaches of the west side of nowhere hasn't been seen for a heck of a long time and could have gone slightly downhill (she hasn't seen me either which could be a problem, though she has as it's on my email, oh...) she can't be that different as people rarely are. Maybe my picture not my awful behaviour at the time put her off. I have the then and now pictures, the then was taken exactly when she met me and the now is probably like a different person, though had I kept my hair the rest isn't that different. But if she really liked me she wouldn't have been put off that easily as she's 45 as well and may not have aged as well as me (it's genetic, no credit for any special tricks). I've waited a week already and usually most people reply the next day if they want to. I told the drama student what I wanted to as I had nothing to lose but this one is quite technical though I expect I lost the game the second she saw my email. I think about another week and I'll go for it in case she isn't that net savvy. My arse, everyone is now if they register for websites but you have to let things run their course and not rush them. For her sins maybe getting married, having 2 kids, living in Africa and getting divorced were things she had to go through first, and had I gone for it back in 1984 (second chance) she may have felt she'd missed out. The furthest south I'd go is Brighton and if she wanted to work abroad it would have been without me. Now she's got it out of her system I've missed her prime (mind you some women much older are still up to the mark) and certainly wouldn't have my own children should it work, but as I said, I don't make the rules.

So despite talking speculative bollocks in the past, this one ought to have worked better but in fact has apparently just followed every other cheap easy attempt to do something that should be hard work, like getting a postal degree. Some corners will not be cut, and though the work would be ahead as she lives halfway to Land's End I'd be expected to have worked before getting her back and not just finding her name on a website and expecting her to jump 22 years after I last spoke to her (as she was married in between). I have only had two women who appeared to be mutual and she was the second. Admittedly I never tried her out in any sense as both times I ran off within minutes, but the little I know about her tells me enough to guess I'm right. I can't think of one other time this happened though I came close a couple of times, one I chucked for being boring (changed my mind the next day but she didn't) and the other was 200 miles away and impossible to get very far with, and we were running out of conversation after 2 weeks...

No book or film could compete with real life stories. I have a good idea of my chances (nil) but until I either wait another week for a late reply (nil again) or get a result from my second email (1%) I am fucked. The best I will do is a book or article about my failures as no oner would believe one person could screw up every time whatever the circumstances. I can't believe it. I had the crumbs off the table, but never the full meal. Half my mental problems must be caused by this as a basic need has not been fulfilled. I was told a way I can by a friend recently so at least there is a way round it but definitely a last resort. It wouldn't be one that lasted but would fulfil a job. But why always last resorts and third rate solutions? Can I ever get something properly instead of missing the target and getting a fraction of the whole job every time as I have in every other aspect of my life except buying a house and my first degree? As usual, it's up to 'other people'.

Don't rely on anything

You can't rely on many people in life except possibly me. Or to rely on them letting you down which is actually the opposite. Firstly the wankers who didn't reply on friends reunited (reignored it should be called) . Other people actually professionally connected have ignored me as well even though I need their work to get through my own, but silence. When people need me it's so important they want help now, I can't even get anything in over a month. So as one job is finished others I can't do for myself are left to gather dust.

I'm only writing this as I'm not having my haircut, and the Funtrivia blog has been down for days, and the few others in the same position are being told it's at their end which is impossible. There's little point starting many other jobs as the barber may call back at any time and really there's sod all that needs to be done till tomorrow so why look for work? I'm still wishing for more good news. The business news was wonderful but if I could have something on the pleasure front, both a peak and something that lasts it would make all the difference. And I've learnt you can't earn or deserve such news. It's totally independent of everything, and as with all changes and events seems to come in bunches like my work every day this week. Some is delayed from cancellations last week and other is voluntary but it still has to be done. And so far all I've done is write a little description for someone collecting it this week and killed time on the internet. Will I get my haircut? My grandma expects it to be done when I go there and if not she's going to blame me whether it was my fault or not. Or be very disappointed regardless, as I am. So, I wait, and the other strange rule is only when you've forgotten about something you're waiting for might it happen. So I'll have to carry on as if nothing's happening and then the call will come when I'm not thinking about it. Truly weird and almost always the case.

Meanwhile I'd like to make an announcement to all those people on Friends Reunited, and if any of my readers are on it, you as well. Don't join if you aren't going to play the game. If you only want to lurk don't bother to add your name, just search and don't waste my time and millions of others pretending you want to be contacted. Arseholes.

Quality not quantity

What can I say? 24 hours later I have a bag of food and been to the gym again. It can't get less exciting than this and at least you're only reading it. The dreadful stories of old people looking after themselves at 80 plus while their friends and families are busy or dead shouldn't happen in your 40s. So with the life of a geriatric I tell stories like one. Without the toilet reports. Yet. There's a TV character I remember, from King of the Hill where Bobby the son does an old Jewish man (from a Texas Goy you can see who writes the script) and I suspect that could be me. 'How should I know, I've had no intestines since 1964' etc. But those old people have had 60 plus years of productive lives but I stopped producing long before then, except for blog posts, and as my father says, any council estate yob can do that. Or my late grandpa. He wanted more from me for sure. I had a law degree, he wanted me to become a lawyer. I played the piano, he probably wanted me to be a concert pianist. But while he was alive I nearly always worked including 6 years of teaching which he dismissed as a waste of my degree. Go figure.

Thank goodness my few counselling clients get something from my tiny number of working hours, quality not income. And the hundreds of jobs I applied for prove my intentions. I'm ordering more photo prints this week and possibly some enlargements with nowhere to put them. At 5'5'' many women say they'd like an enlargement of me but they can fuck right off. On the screen women can't see how tall a man is so can't judge on that criterion. Men aren't concerned with women's height so why vice versa? I don't make the rules. Rupert Murdoch does that for most of the words besides Kim Il Jong in North Korea. If that's his name, I may have mixed him up with a footballer. Imagine 50 years from now some internet sites will become world classics. Not mine I suppose, but a few great authors will become famous from the internet, like some of the musicians except they were promoted by millions by their record companies unlike unpaid writers.

GCSE English 2050. Great writers of the internet. Urban dictionary. 'Man who screws another up the arse while bent over'. That will replace Shakespeare and Milton in the new English literature of the millenium. Tabloid classics. What light from, like, yonder window breaks, innit?
Cack cack bloody cack. The world is melting into hell day by day. And I leave you with the punchline. Following years of stories about global warming, we have finally got the result. Higher taxes. What a surprise. To prevent a positive fuel saving potential scenario only seen on articles by bribed scientists we will pay higher taxes. What? Where's the cause and effect there? Global warming = higher temperatures = using less fuel to heat the world. So they want to stop it, as if they even could? Morons accept it unquestioning and as all three parties agree you can't vote to stop it. All the bloody same and we can do sod all about it. Lovely world when run on lies and corruption. Nobody criticises these twats for being unemployed, they just get paid for stealing our money. Give me unemployed.

Never on Sunday

I think this will be a combination of what I’ve done and what I want to do. I’ve become aware it’s almost impossible to sort out all areas in life, whatever you achieve something irritating comes along and needs sorting out. I imagined so many things would protect me from that. A degree, a wife, a masters degree, a profession and even things like an out of body experience. Having completed some of this list they do help, but only cover one area of life while still leaving others unprotected. You can’t cover it all but at least try and cover as much as possible. But at my age although I have completed an adequate amount of achievements, the degree, house and year-plus long meditation course, it can still be shit. OK, I know the score a lot better now and see without the right people around you can have everything and do nothing with it. I was asked the obvious question the other day, if you understand so much does it actually help you? I have no idea. It saves me wasting time chasing pointless aims, but far more helps other people who are so far off the mark my insights move them a lot further in one go so they can see a difference.

But for me it’s a typical situation of knowing a lot and being able to do very little. I don’t argue with girlfriends, but I don’t have any. I am able to teach many by writing articles, don’t earn a penny from it, and doubt it will ever make a difference to my professional career. Remember, I don’t just write about life and philosophy off the top of my head.. I’m qualified as a psychotherapist and see much of what I write about directly and also have to deal with it directly. I try and test my ideas in reality and they work. But if you look at any successful self help expert, I doubt many are immune to life as it is. If you know a heck of a lot but are still put in a position in life with holes in it the problem is most of what we teach is how to deal with what you have, not get what you haven’t. It stops you screwing up on the path of success by falling into traps, but in no way can achieve the impossible. As witchcraft says, nothing they do can interfere with others’ free will, and getting others to follow ours is not really realistic. That’s why slavery was abolished (except in Eastern European gangs) and it really isn’t possible to make others follow your wishes like sheep. We neither know what others want till they tell us, and what we think may impress them or annoy them often is really covered by something totally different as they see it in a different way. Just like an exam. Any area where we are judged by others can’t be manipulated without inside information as we simply don’t know what impresses others. So we can only be ourselves and do it well.

So meanwhile I have lost what could have been my best chance at success by a woman who finally ran out of patience with me. I imagined after coming back for more after being treated badly (I was only 14) only to be ignored again has now totally got her revenge (stupid bitch, it doesn’t work like that) by doing it back to me. That is pride and loses us everything if operated. Just because you have a chance to get someone back, if you lose something better you are an arse. And unless her time is so occupied that she couldn’t email me till the weekend (and they’ll find a cure for cancer) she’s exercised the easy way out by believing by doing the same to me as I did to her 22 years ago (the second time) she will satisfy her pride, and also fuck up my life and possibly her own if she is still single. But as I expect her to be shacked up with an unemployed tattooed criminal of course he’d probably kill her if she did reply and anyway she’s happy with her new model having clearly got far less from her dream marriage than she expected. That showed me how like all other animals people can be tame or wild, and women prefer the wild physically at least. Reforming criminals involves domesticating them, and that’s why many never go back as they have evolved beyond it. And us house cats still have to suffer living in a world with violent fundamentalists, mad fundamentalists and individual and organised criminals. The child vandals on buses who write on the walls in full view and then destroy the glass shelters are untamed savages. They are as close to normal educated humans as a lion, in fact a tame lion is closer to us than they are. Unless mentally ill all are capable of reform, but until they do (the minority) us nice people have to share our suburbs and cities alike with an element of savagery. They don’t intimidate me but just repel me. The thick arses they film and show getting drunk on the news every week are not just wild but thick as shit. If you get drunk and ill once certainly in my case I never did again. These stupid fuckers do it every week. And my ex almost girlfriend may possibly prefer one to me as they are so ‘exciting’ compared to people who can invent bifocal glasses and discover relativity. I give up…

Shedding pubic hair

Before I leave for the weekend I am drawn back here to look over the past week. Though productive it became boring, probably because what I did, however productive was in itself pretty boring. Driving round the same roads I have all my life taking photos of familiar and less familiar trees roads and houses. The results I admit were amazing at times but mainly as I still returned with the camera to an empty house and had no one to talk to besides taking a neighbour up the road probably explains most of it. No solution either. Next week the clocks go back so the indoor phase will arrive and I've been told about some paintings I can do next which will stop me wasting time doing other things ie internet. Some of the time.

The whole outside world is almost accessible here and far better people than currently in my real life but besides the odd revolting quality printout (which I no longer do besides written work) it creates nothing solid. But it does allow me, like the earlier video games, to practice my skills and may eventually get paid for it. No reason why not technically, just severe competition and lack of connections. Also all the remaining housework will be possible as I don't have photos to take, and get the ones I have into a hardback album now the list is virtually finished for now. There are new areas for next year if I want to, all miles away as evey part of the local scenery has been covered in the last 11 months with about 600 photos. I wonder if blogging is going to die soon as so few people bother to write and that in turn loses readers, so I expect people are getting the same 60% drop in hits as me all over. Or they just think I'm boring. Well, it's all there is. I can only write what I know, and it's mainly about presentation and I do my best. But I won't post a picture of my cock even though it would probably attract a few more readers, probably gay with my luck.

It seems a bit of an evil air has been around this week. Nothing evil happening really but it seems something isn't as it should be. It may go or it may mean more, and considering my business has been sorted out it shouldn't really be a lot, but I will have to wait and see. I don't raise any hopes now, especially since losing my best shot at TV fame. Why say a programme is for Sky 1 when it's not going to be shown at all? So when I found two of the best women I knew on Friends Reunited one probably didn't know me and the other who did has apparently finally run out of patience with me for letting her go twice. My last chance at a second chance and no more I can do about fixing it. Unless she's so busy she waits till the weekend before doing her email (like anyone in the western world with broadband does that nowadays) I think she is dust and ashes. And that was my fault, my karma and my punishment for letting her go at all. To add to everyone else since whenever it was I got that lucky.

Little else to report, I know a few people say they are reading this so hello my regulars, but people through blogspot seem very thin on the ground. Like women's pubic hair around the menopause. One of those things you discover as you get older. Saves a bit of maintenance I suppose...

Why do the arseholes get the best crumpet?

Well, it's been a fairly productive week, I planned a list of photos and did four days running and caught nearly every place I wanted before the clocks go back and I'll start a new painting. Hardly saw anyone besides my Thursday regular, meals on wheels, if you get my drift. Keeps me sane. Solitary pursuits otherwise, and am now going to pick another load to print as always. I also had my biggest ever haul on Friends Reunited search. 5 new people. One oddity (I'm not looking yesterday to see if I told it already, just roll with it) was after a dream I was in Devon on holiday (replaces the fact I haven't been for ages) someone was in it for the first time ever. I always search his sister, and was going to do a search anyway, and decided to put his name in for the first time. He was the only person who replied. How on earth did that happen?

The non-hostile person from the others hasn't replied, which is different from the Spaniard at drama classes as I don't think I often spoke to her as my tongue was always hanging out. She didn't even know me from Adam then, let alone now so no surprise, but this new one was a girlfriend even for a few minutes (story told already somewhere). I expect despite being divorced has a yobbo hanging around (she is quite the opposite, but that tends to be the attraction) and wouldn't dare reply in case he bruises her ovaries with his boots. I tend to see life in its darker versions sadly as these guesses are more often and not near the mark. Take Jeremy from primary school. He was the school Nazi (I exaggerate not) and being Jewish I knew about it personally. Now he would have been in his mid 40s when he got engaged, and the day before he got married screwed his ex he met on Friends Reunited, then got married and probably carried on seeing both onwards. People are right arseholes quite often and they tend to win the battles if not the wars. The geeks and nerds make the world the good place it is and the arseholes get all the fun. But genes win over logic and mine are all wearing anoraks.

So after 3 weeks said Spaniard baled as usual, ex girlfriend has had 3 days and out of good manners (what are they I wonder, have I invented them or did they melt with the millenium?) ought to reply, she doesn't have to give me a fucking blow job as well. But I feel no answer now, now answer at all. Probably deleted it instantly in case said imaginary Neanderthal cracked her password and left her spread across the estate. The trouble with East Enders (and why I would never watch it) is it actually fairly accurate except for having a local community in London. People like that do behave exactly as portrayed and seem to be a different species from me. I see intellectuals across racial divides. A Nigerian geek and an Asian geek are almost interchangeable with any other under the cultural differences, we can spot another at 100 miles and if in writing could never tell the race but always the brains. So the geeks stick together regardless of race and religion as we are united against the lower level alcohol dependent criminal types who are fuelled as much on aggression as we are on curiosity about the world. Tell them anything not concerning football and they call you too deep and tell you to piss off and stop boring them. The question and challenge nothing unless it's offside. Any academic achievement besides O level woodwork or an ASBO is regarded as reflecting homosexuality or at least sterility in a charitable case.

So the divide is only crossed by sex. These people give off a sexual magnetism to women of all types, and despite marrying within the class most classy birds as they call them prefer a good hard shag from an ex convict than Proust with their cunnilingus. Woody Allen may be the only intellectual who can pull the birds but then again his millions do go before him which is the next best pulling power. People like me are seen as the worker ants, very busy and useful but sexless. So many women told me it would be like fucking their own brother I've considered petitioning to have incest legalised. I'm not even anyone's brother (or cousin), so I wouldn't know. I think Woody Allen appears to have that one covered as well... allegedly. Technically said woman was my second best chance at happiness and unlike the first who was banned from seeing me, I wimped out on this one as she lived so far away. She still does but if anything gets me out she will. That would do it.

It is depressing that after someone written off as dead has returned and apparently ignored me, even though she is the only woman I dumped twice. Karma or what? If I haven't been punished on that front enough already. I calculated that had I given her a chance in 1984 I would have never got anyone better since as every woman I have succeeded with since then has been what I would call last resorts. Don't ask me how, my Dad says it's because I am as well but that's what families are for, but I have never got anyone instead since then so have gained nothing compared to possibly besides trying the opportunity to see how it would go actually keeping it long term. She seemed the type to stay and I am and frankly I can't think of one reason she would have put me off. But unless a miracle occurs I've damn well put her off this time. No surprise there anyway.

Another day another dropping

Now I have my title I have to decide what to write on it. Like films that spend more trouble on the name than the crap they put in it. Most just remake old films with new wanky actors now who are either drug addicts or gay, or both. At least they didn't go public about it in the old days. Anyway, back to my long long story that never ends (till I die, and I won't be reporting that). Plus a photo

Anyway. Friends Reunited is such a bunch of crap at times, raising hopes for nothing. You email a bunch of people including who may have been quite a good friend and nothing. Of course 99% of the girls are happily married now so had I been I doubt I'd evn have joined. Besides tracking down a few guys who may have drifted off and would be worth getting in touch with if I was sorted on the female front I'd not only have no reason to look up old girlfriends but would be an insult to my wife. So all these married women are presumably just wanting to gossip with similar about their kids, how many vaccinations they've had, what they're doing at ballet classes and whether they want them to go to Oxford, Cambridge or Yale. What a waste of bloody time. They're already gossiping twenty to the dozen with all their contemporary women friends, and just want to do the same with ones they didn't even like enough to keep in touch with. For christ's sake, people should join it to get off with each other. Second chances, parents stopping something which could have lasted years and then being able to make up for it years later when they can't. But no, they put their names on and probably have absolutely no idea what to do if anyone actually contacts them. Yes, that's you I'm talking about you damn waste of space on a screen from Crouch End. Not that she could see as without replying she wouldn't know my sites. But I'd say it to her face if I ever could, people need to learn.

Otherwise little is expected to happen. My voluntary workload is very busy, but it's only what I do for research and have nothing else to do. But so many in one go. As my mother says I can work full time if I want to do it for nothing but when I want paying I get 2 hours a week. Luckily I pay the bills regardless but would remove a great social stigma if all this time I put in made some real money. I had a social stigma once but the wheels fell off. How long can you look at a screen before you or it goes blank? My mind does at times and then when thoughts return it's nearly all the same ones as before. No new input as so few people to provide it. So I write the same areas each day as there are only the same ones. I think two years ago the entries must have been a bit different but probably variations on a theme. But I am doing my best under the circumstances, give anyone my identical ones and see how they get on. It would be an interesting experiment.

Wednesday review

Though I say it myself, I took some bloody good photos today. It pissed with rain, stopped just before 3 and I got enough done before it all came down again. With the clocks about to go back I'm cramming them all in and looking at many features of North London on a photo makes them look a lot better than if really there. Otherwise I technically need to do nothing but am required to. No actual shifts on that front but if you have a choice between pleasing authority figures and yourself, it's always better to please yourself and I haven't wasted a minute on that front. And someone on TV sold his framed photos on a market stall so maybe I'll look into it, but 10X8s plus a frame would probably set me back about £5 a go minimum and if you have a stall as well you'd really need to price them high. I will look into it, but use an existing outlet, I've done markets when I was young and that was enough.

Last night I found 5 more people on Friends Reunited. I only emailed most out of habit, none liked me in the 70s so wouldn't now but if you don't try for the small annual fee what's the point of joining every year? I also decided to email one in New Zealand as I knew her brother though she won't remember me I'm sure. I think only anyone desperate for company like me would go back for more after being spat out 30 years ago so I freely admit it. Number 5 was the opposite of all these qualities so who knows. The drama student from 1979 has been written off though I'll stick to plan B and email her next week just in case I can push her into replying.

Meanwhile BBC1 showed DIY SOS just now instead of an hour special on identity theft. So they were actually perpetrating their own based on presenting one programme as another. Very ironic and the reason I'm here now and not watching it. I also just had to collect a few local therapy names for someone, I got 3, 2 had the same 4 digit sequence in the local number (not exchange) and one had 3 of them. Just the threes is 1000X1000, for a sample of two, this was 1000X1000X1000, about a billion to one. I wrote them down but only spotted it when reading them out. This demonstrates how arrangement can be found all over my life and many others, but be of absolutely no practical benefit. Besides about an hour on video there's shite on TV for the rest of the night, I may go for a walk if it isn't raining, otherwise I have plenty of stuff to keep me busy regardless of the absence of another person. Tomorrow and Friday are more or less free and I don't give a crap whatever I do though of course one photo trip is on the list at least.

I looked for fellow blogs to comment on last night and only found one from this year which was nearly all based on quotes by other authors. Highly original. It's not a magazine, it's a diary, and if you want a single topic entry use a normal dedicated website, it's not what blogs are for! Anyway, I think I'll go over to Funtrivia and stir up some trouble. There's sod all else to do.

Back again already

Updating, I was hardly awake when I posted the last entry (don't even ask), but now I am maybe more will enter my mind. I'd never thought of deliberately marketing my sites but after seeing a journalist push her youtubes to get all over the web I am going to have to push this site a bit as blogging ought not to die, maybe evolve but not disappear into a rump of geeks with little else to do.
Breaking my rule again, I'll probably do photos in Hampstead Garden Suburb tomorrow while I mop up the final week of light before the clocks go back. Then Hendon and that's about it for a while. If I don't shoot me, but I will the next time I go out. Things have become banal, this time through no fault of my own. With the best intentions in the world things have totally dried up. If there was the equivalent of a vaginal lubricant for life I'd go and buy some tomorrow and squirt it all over mine. If I'm not careful at this rate it'll start cracking soon as well, and maybe even get thrush. Well, I've had more infections in the last 12 months than since I was at school, proves I wasn't making it up, but no consolation either way. Maybe the lube should also be medicated as well...

Anyway, something internal or external needs to shake things up soon or I may die of boredom. Technically it's hardly a surprise, living alone, friends deserted and no job. Asking for trouble. And barely within my control, just like the weather. Friend and female forecast. Sod all for months. Easy to predict nowadays. Even all but a few people on the bloody internet, my final refuge of civilised people is drying up as people seem to actually find better things to do. Friends Reunited is OK for curiosity value but hardly a route to social life for those who lost it round about the time they left said schools. Especially with people now in Singapore and fucking New Zealand. I get homesick in Borough High Street for christ's sake, these guys cross the whole planet to live? Cats and dogs again, we each have a preference for home or away, and I'm one for home. The older I get the more content I am in my circle. I always say it may be boring but it's my boring. Having lived around the North Circular nearly all my 46 years although many other areas are nice enough to move to with imaginary wife, if not I have to stick to my patch, I know it pretty bloody well by now. I follow the map in my head to work out where to take photos, aim for places I know and take more on the way in new spots. But I can visualise half the map now in my head after so long.

There's no doubt there are special places and awful ones, I live in a special one I managed to afford, confirmed by so many visitors who compliment both the area and the house inside I know it's not just my opinion. Conversely many others agree Camden Town, Peckham, New Cross, Holloway, Wood Green, Tottenham and many more shitholes are the most oppressive, crowded and depressing areas on earth, all crammed into a circle of 10 miles diameter. Then (as a fellow blogger pointed out some time back) you walk a mile from them and find Highgate, Hampstead Garden Suburb, Regents Park and Primrose Hill. Each duff area is often next to the best, except in the case of Tottenham and Walthamstow. They remain in what used to be West Essex, possibly the nearest place on earth to a preview of hell there is. I've travelled the length and breadth of much of England, and though a few stars like Taunton, Bristol, parts of Manchester and Liverpool, Littlehampton, Poole (if you know where to look), Portslade, Plymouth (the old bits) and Portsmouth have small versions (yes I have a bloody good memory), none can ever compare with a ten plus mile slick of shit from Holloway in the west to Upminster in the east without a break. I had to do that journey as far as Ilford till my grandma died in 1975 and there is not a good word to say for one E postcode. Ilford, East Ham, Forest Gate, Bow, Hackney, I honestly felt like I'd died passing through the endless Victorian terraces punctuated by 60s council estates which go on as far as the eye can see, besides the (now disused) factories. All spawned by the dockland industry to the south, but again, all over long ago. Like a huge dinosaur's litter tray, dropping hundreds of years of brick-built faeces across the whole of East London never to decay or be removed but frozen in stone for eternity.

But the point is I live in what was Middlesex and until the 30s all but Harrow and Southall were nearly all fields. We may have the largest spread of almost identical 3 bedroom semis but it's harmless in Kenton. And Preston Road has a very nice totally isolated shopping parade, only spoilt by the recent arrival of parking restrictions. If anyone wanted a TV or book series on North London, they know where to come.

Neasden day

Variations on a theme? Well what can I do? I suspect blogging is already becoming worn out, and everyone's moving to youtube. Not that I get many hits there but I started off here with 50 per day and now it's down to 20, and besides the hard core bloggers most have given up long ago. And the hard cores have (like mine) mainly become parodies and stereotypes of themselves and the readers have probably heard it all before.
So after a fascinating trip to Neasden, going to the Welsh Harp park the opposite side for only the third or fourth time in my life, found it was just as scenic as the other side albeit totally manicured.

Otherwise I have found two major conclusions about my life. One is I needn't aspire to any more at 46, I have done all I have to and everything remaining to do is trivial. Secondly because of that nothing I do is wrong as I am on a foundation of completeness. So whatever I do or don't do from now on is right, work or not. However it hasn't made me feel any better though the negative thoughts have to go as there's no reason for any guilt now. If I piss around taking pictures of parks or take the train to Aberdeen (which I won't) it's just the same. But it doesn't stop it becoming boring or oppressive at times. That's another issue and I suppose I'll have that to work on now having dealt with the acquired guilt from 'conventional' people.

My grandma is about to see my new trousers (and imagine the second green version) and like the old farts on strictly come dancing hold up her scorecard. I reckon about 6/10. They do look like jeans but are soft and come in solid colours, but she will probably say 'jeans'. Big deal. It's Pringle and Burberry tops next so she can pick holes in them. I could never afford them but if given the money that is what I will get. Following tasks include all those mentioned already, the photos were for pleasure and this is the final week before the clocks go back so have to use the light while I can. Over 600 photos in 11 months on the new camera which isn't bad plus 25 videos online. Tomorrow's lot will be Hendon and possibly Colindale and Mill Hill. But if I didn't do it my photographic career would be wasted. And no real alternative. When the weather deteriorates than all the exciting household jobs will be waiting, and maybe before I retire I'll get a plumber as the leaks are spreading. I hope something will break the current monotony, when the highlight is a comment on a photo I know things have become very low indeed...

Have you been?

Totally irrelevant title, but one of my favourites. Well I have been to Marks and Spencers, on a mission where my grandparents (now in singular) pay me every so often to buy some 'decent clothes'. If they go with me it helps, otherwise what I consider decent may vary drastically as this purchase probably will, but who cares. I like them. I now have time to work my way through the usual ordeals which besides the dentist used to be easy, it's so boring it's the stuff most blogs are made of, and can't be left out for that's all there is to report. The gym was closed for a week and whether I have more energy not going is probably a coincidence. I'll see tomorrow when it opens again. Otherwise I am challenging myself to slip into a relevant subject beyond a few lines reporting the trivia of the last day or so.

Next week I will be writing the second and final email to the bloody witch who hasn't replied to the first one. Some things really wind me up, lying government policies to rip us off in the name of saving the planet (yes, that really convinces anyone with a three figure IQ that emptying the bins every two weeks will make us a cleaner country...), inaccurate newspaper reporting and people ignoring communications. No excuse for any of them, all either dishonest, stupid or bloody inconsiderate. No shortage of that and you can never teach by example. Thank God people are seeing through a few of them, and our immigration policy has finally been questioned along with muslim veils which a great writer described as 'death out for a walk'. They frighten me every time I see them as well. Just like a nightmare. I also emailed woman one on my system hoping to deepen the potential relationship in various ways. Woman two let slip she didn't realise I was interested in her despite sending compliments that would be considered incestuous if to a female relative but as usual when not spelled out in capitals, went straight over her head. Next time it'll be capitals. Platonic female friends are the exception to my rule.

They've just had another huge article about Youtube on the Mail on Sunday, how a journalist got her videos mentioned worldwide, but only by pretending to be a celebrity. Maybe if I pretend to be David Baddiel or Ben Elton with a poor camera some idiot may fall for it. Like people seen by billions would need to go on youtube (except Uri Geller who has). These are the cheating ways to go on, like the Open University of you fail your A levels. Notmally education and fame come about the official and hard way, and I am at least on step one with many more to go. But each step is smaller as you go up one as fame feeds on itself. I've had a need all my life to entertain and share what I do, and that has to be fed somehow. Having been disappointed by many other things I no longer naively expect happiness to come from anything besides major psychic powers but realistically you should never imagine how anything will make you feel until it happens. Total waste of energy to. So I push and poke in the little ways I can, with no more than intuition and the minimum of feedback in each area until maybe one more piece falls into place. I know which one I want the most and it may be possible, but still see many obstacles to it. But like trying to mark your own exams, I don't know what other people want so shouldn't try and guess what will or won't put them off. Certainly not my huge cock anyway (acknowledgements to Ben Elton for that one).

Dregs and leavings

Because I'm off soon I had to do this regardless. A challenge. But last week was more productive than half the year so I'm not complaining. Business related, things happened the right way and I wasn't really tired since the weekend. I slept well so it's clearly connected. A good starting point. So far (not that it makes much difference) I have run out of plans for now. The photos are running out, repeating themes and places but had to be taken before the light went in November for months. No mornings for me. I will hopefully meditate to fill any gaps as it seems to be working better now. Sometimes I look at everything as if in an obituary, everyone is the same. It can happen at any time, only the odds change, and if anyone stopped now, what would it say?

In my case I have missed too many things to stop now, if I had a say in it. Anyone who even goes back a few entries will see what I missed most, and all the other things will follow. I had aims and covered half of them maybe, and some are impossible but the challenge is finding if so or not. Like all the psychic powers I hope are real. What about the anti-obituary? He didn't do this... The woman who should be named and shamed didn't reply (maybe she has gone somewhere with no computer for a while but in fact she's just blown me out), all the other women I missed out, the 200 or so countries I haven't visited, the celebrities I'd liked to meet, on and on. These create my plans and ambitions for the future, but long term. Short term like someone who has lost their glasses I can only see a few minutes ahead of me if that. I really need to make the most of the freedom and if anyone comes in to help all the better. They rarely do.

I have some major writing projects if I'm stuck, which at least will have a manuscript for my lifetime which some naive publisher may risk investing in one day. But it'll use up a lot of time but eventually be worth it even if never used. And the two women still around are subject to my next moves like a world chess final, one bad move and it's all gone. But unlike chess each player has an even chance of women. These women already know what they want, I just don't know it. My moves simply raise it to the surface sooner or later and like the Spanish waste of time move on and eliminate most of the time. Well, all of it till now. As they say in these parts it's a real pisser. I've given more people my websites this week but as yet had no bites. Most people still prefer the real world to online but I see it as another dimension of the same world. And my largest audience which I have always wanted. What the audience actually wants is a mystery except maybe all blogs have lost readers as people get bored and look elsewhere. But a diary is always the best way to see into a person and that'll never wear off for me.

Friday's cack

Error on page, let's see if this kills the blogger, but of course I'll copy the lot first in case. Error on page is a very good description of the world I think, so many glitches and mistakes and until Windows XP such a ridiculous message hadn't been seen by me. Now if humans could have meters like car dashboards with blood pressure, temperature, cell counts etc wouldn't it save the doctors work? If they could get feedback and make a little plug to build into us I'd have one. Just put it on a meter and read the numbers, if it looks bad go for tests. Maybe in 100 years when it's too late for me (as in global warming predicted changes...).
So, another day and slightly less dead than yesterday. It did end with a bang (enough said) but was deadly dull until then. Today was local shopping (fascinating) with the Friday trip to my mum soon (with camera if light lasts). I'm hoping the radio will call me back now, but Iain Lee prefers cretins so I'm stuck on Clive Bull who fits me far better.

The only move I've made on my personal maintenance is a call to the barber who's booked till next week (no shop anymore), the rest will follow. I can also safely say the bloody bitch from Yorkshire has apparently ignored my email and name calling now seems to be appropriate, to be withdrawn if she's just too busy to reply (some fucking chance...). I still find the odd person I knew on FR but down to the dregs now, and after 5 plus years realised the people reported for getting second chances with lost loves are the exceptions like the youtube members who get in the papers. 99.99% of people with websites are read by a few hard core readers like here (soft core now, most have stopped) and the others are not worth considering. Thank goodness my excursion into real TV has started or I'd never get anywhere otherwise. Well, I now won't have any toilet related crises for a while, paper bleach and spray have been bought at incredibly low prices so at least I can poop in peace. Everyday life, but I ought to have a wife buying these things as well, and using them as just telling people online that I've done daily shopping is hardly living is it?

Being Friday already I can say the week won overall, all my business projects except one came to a happy conclusion, and besides that dental checkup which admittedly will only last 5 minutes I can relax. I don't mind eye tests and it's just a pain finding somewhere new after 15 years plus with the same place. And with no one around I have little else to think about besides these deadly dull issues, and as long as I can see to write and drive I needn't get in a fuss about that either. Sometimes I even bore myself, and the radio haven't called. Half an hour left and I'm going, but I think Iain probably didn't like what I wrote on his website...