I'm tired, mostly tired, generally tired, and just plain tired. To start with I am tired of life. tired of living actually. Tired of the drum boredom of it all. Tired of the net, of face book telling me to be more fascist, tired of tiktok shouting at me from my teenage daughters phone. Tired of not being a good enough father, husband and person. I'm tired of being told by strangers about my spelling mistakes, when they don't fucking know me, or care to know me, but take some kind of perverted joy in accusing me of mot being "professional"enough in my writing. Does any one know how many spelling mistakes there are in the shining? 12, maybe more! In naked lunch, the author replaced the \e\ with an \n\ Not that if matters but nowadays, if the late great W S Burroughs had been a blogger, can you imagine the uproar? My wife wants a divorce. (I actually tried to spell wife with an e and then an n. It didn't work out...a bit like my marriage. I wouldn't mind, but a divorce and rejection from the kids at 53 hits hard.) One friend has been consoling, and taking me to Glastonbury Tor, (one off the bucket list, I tried to take a picture, in he end I had to suffice with an PicsArt rendition edited well enough for even this critical eye. Mostly I have been playing the X Box, Mass effect games series, in the hope that I can get Shepard to shag each of the character's in turn. I am working him on the Asari now. Im hoping to get him to shag the journalist, whom accepts some flirting. This between endless battles and running. Yes it is a complete waste of time. But that is my life, a complete waste of time. I am the experiment of two individuals whom decided to shag on the day England won the World Cup. I am not "alive" because I was wanted or expected.
This has had an impact upon how I see the world. There is little real love inside me. After all, how can a person made out of lust understand love? Moreover, how many more of us are out there? neglected from the womb outward, I have tried to find acceptance and "love" and found only hollow words and empty meanings in everything. This isn't self pity. just the recognition as to why both sorrow and bad twists in novels satisfy over the trite and the cliche. Most people with my condition make ruthless business individuals. But then they tend to be born in the high ranks of society. If they are born to the poor ranks, they end up constant failures, destitute, imprisoned by their own belief about themselves, they find no way out other than the knife or the rope or the tablet. Their eyes, like mine, are dead; they never look other people in the eye because, to start with they recognise the superiority of the being in front of them and second, they hate them with an energy so profound and powerful, that if they did stare at them they would know that they are not welcome. No one is you see. I hate fascists. I hate alt righters I hate them because they stab you in two ways. If you, say, for the sake of argument you want a fair society, they will state that this "equality" gets in the way of their "democracy and free will" that the left is some sort of autocratic system that denies the market. If you explain that the market need curtailing they spit on you for damaging their strongly held beliefs on freedom. Yet where is the cotton picker in this "freedom" Freedom in this world is about having the money to make money and when you have no job, no income and no money, then your freedom is gone! Furthermore, if you are trapped into job that pays little or nothing, then your lifestyle itself is controlled. Where is the freedom then? there isn't any. it's funny...here I am going on about freedom when that is what I want. Freedom from this world. If I was rich, would I be writing this? Would I be standing up for the slave? probably not. Therein lies the nub. Everyday I wake up surprised that I am still alive.