I ordered a repeat ‘script’ for the anti-Ds I had stopped using in January in the new job. I started on them again on Saturday. I was sick copiously on Saturday night and still nauseous both Sunday and Monday. I’ve started taking them as I feel a little worried the repercussions of having put so much into Millies for those 4 months is a decline in my proclivity to work: or even look for work. I told myself I will do anything on Tuesday. I will register to Temp. I don’t care. I need a life. Suddenly I have no money at all and it’s so incredibly frustrating to be in a flat I can’t afford, with bills I can’t pay, without being able to afford a weeks groceries, etc. I need a job. Maybe another more local live-in job would be available?
I have twice ventured to Cornwall since Christmas in the hope of seeing Scarlett: both times she was unattainable. I think maybe I will never see her again. It’s not a problem. I guess when I’m stressed I go off at tangents regularly. Imagine my fortitude, irony, when I walked into the disappointment that was St. Mawes. I travelled 900 miles round trip just to be out of pocket and frankly a bit lost. What direction do I go in now? I’d love to just find somewhere that didn’t just abuse me in someway. How did sailors cope in the past sleeping in those cramped smelly quarters?
Finished Transition by Iain Banks yesterday and started Any Human Heart by William Boyd. Comprehensively reading since the Feist book. ‘Tis a good place to retreat to and costs nothing to do and I tend not to drink when I’m into a good book.
Now I am on the bus to Leeds and back to clean the flat I am sure? Gonna stay tonight. Even without a computer. Funny how the world vanishes without the TV, computers and newspapers, etc. I’ve not had an email in months that wasn’t spam. I don’t get texts. The phone I have isn’t useful for anything apart from porn, Wikipedia and making notes. I pay £50 a month for a poor service that I little use for the things a phone is really meant to be for.
How many best sellers are relegated to nothing with the passing of time? Very few will ever be there being read in the library at the end of the universe.
Most of Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets aren’t known by the vast public. I know it’s fiction, but Any Human Heart could reflect on the careers of so many writers and artists. It’s not future proof. It’s for now.
In a queue at lcc and it’s busy. Behind a smelling hunched figure with short retund frame and a disheveled look. Coughing and spluttering, hanging over the rails