From now on…

It took me ages to be resurrected this morning  A night boozing and shouting into a jam jar. Trying to catch anguish in a jam jar. Cider inside my head and battenbergin my mouth. 2 meat chilli, an alt bier in North Bar, then a gallon of weston’s vintage cider. How rotten I feel and I just passed a refuse strewn garden. Actually the garden of Christ, the redeamer, not exactly gethseminy. Where a purse of coins won’t be silver, but rusty bent coppers. And now the junction of sheepscar. This strikes me as being some place of common animal butchery. A61 you guided me towards my dreams. I butchered and killed all that I once loved. I confided a hopeless truth to someone I hold too dear. And after jumping off the number 2 I realise that so much we once took for granted is now closed forever closed. Borders, envy, Wesley owen…does this mean christanity is dead or bankrupt, in administration, corrupted? Then I come to deal with the weekly dole. Having to relocate from one happy place to another. Happiness as a robot order arises and strides from jobless to jobless mass. Off in the corner a man wears gilded ears and watches a DVD while deaf, or quiet, couple look deep into each others eyes. He can’t keep his hands off her thigh. Outside not inside. And all I wait for is to abuse my keys; last night I spilt beer and broke my keys. Oh last night started calm and simple. A quick bonjour to dan and checo. A quick exchange of words with jim and mark. Then time to write a card and wrap a bondage kit. A shrunken bondage kit. Just add water. Apparently it grows 600%. 600 times its size I think not, even if the counter girl did present it thus. And now I’d like to send a slice of cake to the girl who hasn’t got drunk in years. Oh they aren’t deaf as louder he is. I just need to plug myself in. Please fuck off and fuck her senseless. This is useless, futile and I can’t wait forever just to pretend to look in earnest for a job to forfil my financial needs.

So finally at 1441 I get on Starbucks wifi. It was being a real shit and wouldn’t share the Starbucks loyalty redirection with me…futile. I was getting ratty. I didn’t need to come down here as we have wifi in the flat at last, but i am not one to spend all day louffing all day in a sofa…I might be out of work, but I think I am still more motivated than I was before I worked for the YHA.

 I went to see a lady on Monday night, 2pm, to start therapy in CBT. I felt crap after that as I couldn’t fit her in in my busy schedule and don’t need to keep travellin to Wetherby when all i have is the dole. At least Paul and I now have all the essentials in the flat. Green Lentils, Mung Beans, Broad Beans, Chick Beans, Black Eyed Beans, Black Beans, etc.. This diet thingy is brilliant, but I keep having slight weaknesses. Today it was a sunrise muffin(tm). Yesterday it was eating late at night – brilliant chilli and brilliant Paul made battenberg.

Quite surprised by how wonderful my birthday was. Woke up dull and dreary and concerned for the future – in walks cake laden Paul. He spent all day Saturday making it for me…Paul making cake! Can’t imagine the craziness of the scene? But its actually a very competent first go…Paul Scott’s Battyberg Cake Co…

Internet gone again so back to Notepad…trusty Notepad/Wordpad.

After the cake episode we went to Tescos’ – some how this was the calmest shop I’ve ever done there. And it was the one in Seacroft too. Miles of prefabricated housing and vertical council towers and the precinct where Tesco’s is was once a really horrible reflection of Seacroft too. I wonder if the value of property in Seacroft is more now that it has such a good Tesco’s? Can’t believe how domesticated I can be at times and why I ponder the value of properties?  Spent all my money on food and not the usual dozen pints in North Bar.

North Bar felt very desolate last night. Quiz night, but only a half dozen souls in the bar. I wonder if the recession is being felt in Britain’s most expensive bar? It’s not the most expensive, but it feels it.

(Poorly blonded haired teenager with a bright orange face and a pierced tongue stares at me, but blankly and fingers false eyelashes and twists bangles that adorn her; flase pink nails, pink dildo? Where is the real her, in that pink dildo – a battery/a motor and some synthetic materials. Primark brown bag of the dead?)

Done some brown grain rice and an exotic mix of beans for a meal tonight – at Glenn’s convenience? I’m usually inspired by a variety of ingredients, but not so sure that I care that much about beans? They are very healthy, but uninspiring. So I think chilli again. Chilli Beans/Chilli Beef/Chilli Chips/Chilli Dog Shit…

A person. Is a person on the inside exactly represented by how they are on the outside. The girl? Is she false or is that just a facade? Is she afraid to be ignored, but some how her black/brown roots show clearly. Does a man who eats mostly chilli desire to become chilli. I went to Millies for Marigold’s Swiss Boullion – reduced salt. Perhaps I could do a provencal style bean dish? That doesn’t entail chilli. What was Indian food like before colombus discovery(rediscovered) the New World? No Peanuts, Chillis or Tomatos or Potatoes.

I’m trying to do Joni Mitchell a bit more justice than her Magnum opus – ‘Blue’, so downloaded Hissing of Summer Lawns. Inspired. I actually think this is more Brand New Heavies than Folk. Actually there is something more about her…its like a dreamscape. I especially like the Jungle Line. Good unusual beat funk and soul and rhythms and strange synth noises which work with her voice. I really get this beat.

How can I get a apple Macbook Pro without money/job or being a student? No way. Please will a fairy godmother bring me one? Heehee.


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