This, too ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I am all broken in the person, and there about. Still falling asleep at inopportune moments. Now I think that perhaps I should be getting all the sleep that I can... geese flew back over, to-day. One party, they or I, spent the day confused about when summer starts. I am thinking about how summers will probably only continue to get hotter and perhaps to last longer, and how I already struggle to cope with the traditional sort. I nearly cried when the last of perhaps six times that I woke during my night's sleep was owing to the shining of the sun at barely seven in the morning. I really, honestly don't know how I'll get through another summer (alone). Other people -so many of them- have more profound, serious, or moving problems. They might be dying; or waiting, riddled with the virus; missing people who absolutely won't come back; struggling to maintain the physical when nobody cares or feels obligation; fearing bullets, bombs and rockets; or dealing with abuse that I can't even reconcile with reality. More have the oh so troubling worries as pertain to the neighbour's fucking conifers or how dreadfully awful those people must be for God to send the pissing sin-seeking virus in the first place, or how somebody could get up the nerve to return fire on their heroic son in his helicopter gunship and kill him at any moment. I think that maybe I'm somewhere in between. This morning I am taking a long, hot shower; I am eating Weetabix and an apple, perhaps; I am planning to walk, though there is nowhere to go, but I am planning to take with me a book (maybe granddad's book on the long march? No... silly); I am turning off all the lights that others have left on, and the television that sits on stand-by; and I am opening-up a big, black bin bag into which I am shovelling much of what lies -and has lain for years- on my floor and in my cupboards and on my shelves. There is one of my less moving but very-own problems. With all of these things around, I can't do anything. It is a dusty, paper anchor sufficient to keep fast a feeble vessle like me or mine. It will go away, and then, probably, I shall find that in fact I had run-aground, anyway. I like commas. That is probably why I make good misuse of them, like vodka and ale. It is probably best that I [list of my problems and faults], so that there is no girl as well.
I don't know. Mum wants me to see a counsellor, on account of I'm a troubled useless person with problems as manifest in the fact that I can't even drive a car, let alone be a success, and am unimpressed by the need to serve society. I don't want to contribute because I'm supposed to, or because I'm kind, but that, so far as I'm aware, isn't even slightly unusual. "It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker, that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest." And so my regard to my own interest is my regard. An issue, I suppose, can be made in the want for an interest to make mine. I don't cost very much. 025 - honest says: I didn't correct his misspelling of the Lithuanian capital. I was thinking about Peanuts.
I found £11.57. I also found C$1.43. E PLURIBUS UNUM. I found C$1.42. I found US$0.01. I found work from college. "Well written; with a good basic grasp of over all narrative development, general characterisation & key themes. However, your reading is seriously weakened by your reluctance to engage in detailed analysis of specific scenes." It is almost as if I'd actually been around to watch the film. Only four or so miles I wandered. As ever, there was nothing. Save swans and geese and old ladies and "ALL AINT ALL" remaining written on the side of what used to be (probably is still) known as All Saint's Hall. It was cold and windy, and I haven't got a coat in wearable condition, so I just kept walking and looking at geese and swans and halls and alls until some RAF Hawks started to fly about the place and drown-out my musics, and I went home after dumping six ex-vodkas at the bottle bank. The aforementioned problems persist. May I come for tea and keeps? 12:53 a.m. - 2005-02-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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