There isn’t any reason why this is the first time I’ve written in my blog since the 4th, other than I updated my iPhone to the latest firmware and now I am restricted to bonafide app’s… iBlogger is £4.99. I am struggling money wise, so no time soon will I pay out a fiver on a nothing.
I feel empty, soulless, like a deep pit or an endless cavern. I got up without a sense that today was a none day. Yesterday was a none day, but I helped out at Help the Aged. The day before was a none day and I had an annoying afternoon surrounded by yound families in Starbucks. I love them. But not when I am in a sour mood. They’re like vinegar to my lemon juice…
I can’t blog on the go, but Paul reckons that it isn’t what people care about: poetry. He’s always right so…
I can’t explain how frustrated I am by having no voice and constantly being told: NO. Not everything is black and white we live in a rich universe of colours and lights. Fuck not having options.
I feel like I clean up every where I go- I know i am obsessed about cleanliness – but I can’t cope with it being a mess, and I don’t know where to start usually when there is always a mess; my life is that mess and I can’t have the place I live in a similar vein. I need to live alone, I know.
Shower gel left out, random hairs in the bath, black rotten mould on the shower curtain, tooth paste lid not closed, jacket left on the front room floor, piles of shoes just where they have been taken off. What could possibly get to me in this? I don’t know what to to do to make it any different.
I know I have improved my diet and reduced my alcohol intake to less than recommended, so thanks, but now I feel a little like I’m going too far – Sprouting kits, smoothies, soya milk, fresh juice, spirilina. Yet yesterday I ate so much food! I had twice as much as usual. Today I shat for ages. Twice for ages. Clearly it’s going straight out the other end.
I do like this new approach, but I don’t need the booze and the constant hum of noise I can hear in my room. I listen to Paul Mckenna and I let go, but also I over analyze what is being said. I know he used certain words – like ‘Now’ and ‘Here’ to concentrate the mind. I was actually yawning before I put the cd on…maybe I am subconsciously associating Paul McKenna with sleeping. But once I stopped listening I couldn’t stop listening
to Paul’s activities.
He was on the PC for ages. So I assume either work or stuff, but because I was aware of the light in the corridor, which is actually the light from the stair wells of the flat, I thought Paul was still up at …3am?
I don’t think it was 3am, but shit my sleep patterns are crap!
I’m off my head!
Just decided to get a refill before it gets really busy here and went down stairs, but shit! 11.40 and queuing out the door. Why do I come to such a soulless and full of emptiness place other than for free internet? Off to visit my Mum and our dog today. perhaps I should get the next bus?
I haven’t been for a long walk with Snoops for a while. Since before New Year. I love taking him for challenging jaunts, and I think he loves get lost, etc, get him home and have him sink into an exhausted sleep of the knackered. I need to get out and get knackered! I actually love walking, but as I don’t drive this is a bit impossible. How can I get to Grassington on Saturday?
Tom has moved out of Wetherby, to South Milford or some other place near to Sherburn-in-Elmet, so I probably will see him less and less. Tom is my mum’s ex. She was with him for more than 10 years, but finally through Tom’s ‘laziness’ and Mum’s conceitedness they eventually became to hate each other. My mum some how expects a man to pay or look after her? To keep her in luxury, or something. I can’t logically understand why some women expect this. Its like Prostitution. I have a relationship with this man and for me doing so he will pay me x amount and shower me in x things. My mum never told him he’d have to contribute to living @ 42 Braine Road so he never did, but after a while she expected him to contribute – why should he suddenly do this?
Tom and I used to do cultural theatre visits, occasional pub visits and long difficult walks. One so difficult that my legs wouldn’t accept it. Cross fell in February. Miles of wet wet bogginess and boots suddenly so heavy that 2/3rds up I could go no more. There were some amazing walks that I did complete, however, like Helvelyn twice and loads of less demanding walks in the North Yorkshire Moors; usually ten or twelve miles, but not so challenging as those in the Lake District. Eating a pork pie after the walk in Goathland.
Frozen falls hoping from stone to stone over a stream. not on the path but making our own way along this stream. The name of the walk was…
Striding edge up to Helvelyn I actually was cantering, jogging almost running to get to the top. Tom couldn’t stop me! When I moved to Coniston with the YHA in 2007 I spent quite a few days walking over many hills. The Old Man, Red …, Wetherlam, Chapel Stile: I got myself into a mad mad situation behind chapel stiles. I was following the OS map and thought i’d try to follow one of the dotted green lines going behind the church – some Gill – which was fun until I realised, after falling from a rock and cracking my elbow (which still hurts 3 years later), there wasn’t any route up and the Gill was almost vertical! But it was vertical both up and down!
So at this point I realised that if I was to get off the Gill I would probably break some bones; a lot of bones, as I couldn’t see any way down. I decided to use my ass on a scree and slide down to the drop into the stream that I could see below, or I could call mountain rescue to get me off there! I couldn’t face that so broken bones was the best choice in my mind. I pushed myself off and i plummetted down and down and down…here it comes, first broken bone. Just at the drop I slid to a gentle stop. Pebbles in my shorts and grazed arse, but no broken bones. I learnt not to use those offpiste routes ever again and followed someone else at least and then the two of you can help each other out if it gets difficult.
Went to the quiz last night, yawn, and I said to the landlord, just as he bent over, can I slip in there…meaning the disabled toliet(an oxymoron if ever I heard one)… and got an oh ‘er missus and a belly laugh! I yawn at the quiz and not at Alexis, April, Jenny, Paul and Yasmin; they’re great. I laughed so much at Alexis. She’s great; last night she looked lovely! I don’t like quizzes. They’re the last bastion of the dying pub. they’re in full retreat from Moscow when they pull together a quiz. We went to the Deer Park on Monday and they had a quiz then and we went to the same place Wednesday and they had a quiz then. This is a very worrying development. 2 pub quizzes in a week. Is there a pub that has 7 a week or 2 a day 7 days a week? I don’t think 14 pub quizzes would be too much, do you?
Off to the theatre to see ‘The Wormcollector’ on Friday night – I have an odd feeling about this as it is only on at the West Yorkshire Playhouse for two days. But thank you Paul – nice birthday present! Very outside the box! Soon Tom and I will go to see the Canterbury Tales and I don’t have an odd feeling about that …
Studied Canterbury Tales at A level (Nunn’s Priest’s) and comprehensively at Uni and saw the late great Brian Glover perform it at York Theatre in the mid 1990’s. Miller’s Tale and Reeve’s Tale…can’t remember anyothers!
Going to stop now.
Rant over. Got to get used to other people’s approach to life!