Archive for July, 2015
Tripping Down Memory Lane…
Aww Kate you tiny, delicate little sweetie you lol. Anyone remember where they were when they first saw a young Kate fearlessly perform Wuthering Heights on Top of The Pops? She apparently wrote that song at 14 and her creative genius has never really gone off the boil, even while she was raising her kids.
Just one gentle criticism. Kate? You can’t dance and have no sense of rhythm whatsoever. And no one would ever believe you were channelling Heathcliff or any other male dearest Kate.
Ya see, peeps desperately don’t want to feel threatened by their truth tellers. Unfortunately it is nevertheless inevitable that they will, for liars inevitably fear the truth and want to avoid exposure.
Perfect singer/artist material, a little tiny waif life woman with a teeny tiny, squeaky singing voice. But it repays a lot of listens. I particularly loved her album The Kick Inside.
At the same time I’m so fecking glad I’m me and not her. And I’m as sure as I can be that she feels the same…
I will never be anyone’s dancing puppet, I flex for real and that’s why I will never be on TOTP, plus in actual fact I will destroy and obliterate that Satanic vehicle of Jimmy Savile and his perverted minions. Sorry but anyone dumb enough to cosy up to the likes of that manifest creep deserves to be tarred, feathered and dragged through the town till nothing remains of them but the piece of rope they used to hoist themselves by their own freaking petard.
Total inability to judge character is not a desirable trait. Naivete beyond a certain age is almost akin to a crime in my eyes. Our so called Courts of Law are full of establishment puppets who keep their eyes firmly off the prisoner in the dock and obfuscate and mystify obvious truths with the cunning manipulation of the so-called paper-thin and transparent evidence.
Do we need judges? Who gets to judge and who to stand in judgement? You have judged my two closest friends and supporters in the world as criminally insane and a criminal respectively. Me you have left alone, because I am considered well and truly castrated by the full on assault of psychiatry with all of it’s armoury of mind-altering drugs, threats of incarceration, thought policing. and the progressively less stigmatising label of ‘mentally ill’.
Well I have news for you dahlings. I is still here lololz. So is the son you sought to mess up as best you could, like mother like son. We’re back for retribution and you can count on this. It won’t take a form you have ever seen before in your petty, small-minded, closed-eyed, wilfully ignorant, falsely privileged and completely out of touch loopy lou freaking ‘judges’…
My guy defended himself in court and didn’t go through a solicitor. He wiped the floor with every single one of you. He demonstrated his innocence of the crime of assault against his vindictive and bitter ex beyond any doubt. But you, Mizz So-Called-Judge (did you get there on grounds of some kind of positive discrimination or perverted version of feminism, it would hardly be a first would it?) Yeah, Ms So Called Judge, you with your unfocused but generalised ill will toward humanity took home your freaking ridiculous notes and cut them into tiny bits, mixed them up, blew a magic dust over them and returned to get him firmly convicted against everyone’s better judgment.
Bitter, moi? Aww, I have no time for human emotions any more, but you, traitor and disgrace to he female sex, you deserve to carry a bitter taste in your mouth till the end of the days. Care to borrow my Nembutal? Coz frankly when I expose you you will no longer have any reason to live…
You are impotent, you don’t get it and never will because you are not even deserving of the epithet woman. Whatever is between your legs is more akin to a venus flycatcher than a vagina and you’re pissed because he wants me and not you. Wow the lengths to which a woman scorned will go hey guys?
Nah, I ain’t bitter. Things have worked out for me better than my wildest dreams and I am still the last woman or man standing, but at least I know what I freaking am! And I know I’m, a womAN!
,
Put Your Love To The Test
I and I will never need to do that…
Take a peek at my son’s Final GCSE Assignment – his English creative story. It was something of a joint effort. What’s the betting they fail him lololz!
Poor boy was always gonna be way too kool for skool. And he doesn’t mind me telling you that he, one of the world’s most eloquent and persuasive speakers, was failed on his spoken presentation (he chose as his topic ‘The Pursuit Of Excellence’) by a pathetic retarded excuse for a teacher who decided to start questioning him on his freaking career plans instead of the subject matter he had prepared!
I feel a Pink Floyd The Wall moment coming on…then again I disliked the rampant misogyny of that movie, so it’s a thumbs down from Moi.
Nigerian Catfish Scammers: Beware of the Dog Lol!
He’s comin’ for ya… I have a poet musician pal who calls them the Nigerian Mafia, and I give them full marks for ingenuity, but none for moral scruples. So the answer’s a resounding NOOOOO! Thumbs down from The Cow Called Simone.
Thank You For Sharing And Keep The Contributions Coming Lolol!
Charity of all kinds is misguided and unnecessary, however thank you for Live Aid and Comic Relief…we r the biz.
Chuggers need to be driven off all publoc streets, agreed. They are intrusive and annoying.
Charity performances are most celebs’ way of salving their guilty consciences.
I will never perform for any cause or indeed anyone but my true friends, coz I’m not up for casting my pearls before swine. I’m old fashioned that way.
Ach, Louise you are so up yourself! Well yeah man, but so are you, right? Thought I should remodel my persona to conform more with yours and all that…
I am doing the do and always will, but my methods are my own, and I owe nobody anything in all honesty.
Suffer fools? Nah, I like ’em. They can keep me happy and entertained for days.
And Africa just wants me to let you guys know that they are not the world’s perennial victim…haha, how very far from the truth is it possible to be?
On the subject of perennial victims, excuse me? How vulnerable, exploited or abused do I look to you today Peeps?
Ya, know what, I’m not getting that…
No freaking pity parties or therapeutic support groups here thanx. My personal nightmare (my whole life then) is over, I no longer particularly care about the rest of you in all honesty!
I Loved This
I’m like, right, ever job spec that I peruse is looking for someone effervescent and bubbly, enthusiastic, a good team player with strong communication skills.
And I’m like, right, everything I’m not.
Better stay on benefits then…
Free My GBF Lol
My ex and eternal Gay Best Friend Who Wants To Make It Very Clear That He’s Not Gay Lol, Maurice James Howard (yeah full names as he has nothing whatsoever to conceal) currently resides in an institution for the criminally insane.
This is a freaking scandal with which I find it very hard to live, and he, even more so since he lives it every day…
I am therefore starting a new campaign and want all my true friends and supporters to get on board with it right away.
FREE MAURICE! He is guilty of precisely nothing except possibly loving wisely and too well.
I am sending every witchly spell and potion in my considerable armoury to well and truly fuck up his captors. So he’s a psychopath? What of it? You drove him to it, and I’m a psychopath too…wanna make something of it, if you do I’m coming for ya.
We are cosmic twins, he shared everything he has with me, I chucked everything I had at him, but it was a fair transaction at the end of the day. May he refuse to piss on them even if they were on fire. Only a matter of time, and the criminal justice system is my next target, you’ve been warned.
Sorry But Women Are Not As Funny As Men lolol.
And never forget that a true feminist has no sense of humour whatsoever lmao.
In Eternal Debt To The Late Great Kirsty MacColl
…though it has to be said I loaned her a few gladrags too, so we’re kinda even stevens…
It takes more than physical death to separate two bffs in spirit. Yay Kirst! Love you always.
Who You Calling a Ho, Bitch?
Answer? No one. I have no desire to be pimped out or be a prostitute myself but I have much fellow feeling with the women who do. Just to clarify, I have never taken money for sex (or even been bought dinner) in my entire life. In my odd roundabout way I guess I could be accused of being a bit of a hit and run driver myself, who wines and dines, feeds, clothes and otherwise bribes her men for sex lol.
Way too much info, but you did ask lolol.
And Just To Administer The Coup de Grace…
I ain’t involved in no mercy killings. I have a problem even killing flies.
But you heard what my homegirl Neneh said. Don’t be getting fresh unless you fancy an emergency amputation or two, we cool?
Thanks Trace!!! But Kirst, you will always be my bff dead or alive girl…
Try Your Very Hardest Not To Be A Retard, Yeah?
If God had a blog, what would it look like and would it even have readers, and would anyone dare comment lolololol?
C’mon you guys know how cuddly cute and fluffy I really am when you stroke my fur the right way. Otherwise, beware of the cat lol.
What is the freaking Holy Spirit? The urge for unity, the power of the human imagination and evolvement of the human animal to the divine being…
The ability to sort the lies from the truth and drive out demons where necessary, make friends with the handsome ones (if you’re me lol).
Complete, total self-knowledge. Zero self-doubt. Absolute faith in the beauty and goodness of the life and people around me. The beauty of our weapons, to quote Leonard Cohen.
X-Ray eyes to sort the truth from the bullshit. Doing what you’re good at, capitalising on your strengths wherever they lie. Coming together. No more private persons. No more passer-by. Way back in 1977 when I was, uh 14, the Sex Pistols sneered out their battle cry ‘I wanna destroy the passer-by’…the song title was Anarchy for the UK and we are all on the same mission. Politicians are TOTALLY irrelevant nowadays. It is not apathy that makes young people fail to vote! Duh! They see nothing worth aspiring to, no halfway decent role models, among these verbose, uncreative, unvisionary twats who frankly look like they never had a decent shag in their lives…
Cameron? Samantha? How’s the ol’ sex life going these days? Anything you’d be ashamed to expose? David Cameron has banged on once too many times about hard working families and ya know what, he has earned his place in Purgatory for that terrible crime against me. Stand down David, stand down please…a stuffed Paddington Bear could do a better job…
Who fears exposure? Who hides in the shadows? Who is paranoid? Those with something to hide. That was us back then. Now it is them as we tear the veil from the rotten corrupt worm-eaten face of corruption…
Fuck death. Fuck life. Fuck time. Fuck space. The young people feel me, they don’t NEED parents no more unless they’re willing to be their friends and not their guides. Parents really have very little natural authority and that is the only authority worth paying attention to.
How ill am I really? How ill have I ever been? I am simply a kind of journalist recording my own news which personally I find about a thousand percent more interesting than anything on the radio, TV or even freaking Guardian Unlimited…
Couldn’t give a crap about current affairs no more.
No one is alone. No one. You all have me. I have all of you. We all bring original thought and something useful or creative to the table. No beggars here thanks. I run with the wolves, move with the winners, am unstoppable now, you heard it here first etc etc…
Now motormouthing Eminem Rap God stylee, I no longer think, Rapping is essentially a man’s game…Nicki Minaj can talk fast yeah sure, but she can’t rap for shit and she knows it…I just type at ridiculous speeds. Thought is for retards. How do hop hop artists just rhyme spontaneously? The Spirit of God lives in us (Eminem).
At Uni I learned that you can’t make a statement without quoting references. So, being of a dutiful and obedient, law-abiding nature by nature, which I guess is what gives me my killer instinct, I meticulously quote my sources and have probably never had an original thought in my entire life. Who needs ’em anyway? Where did thought get humankind so far? Lurching from crisis to crisis, permanently stressed to the nines and locked into survival mode, that’s where.
So much to say really, but I am a lazy slob like everyone else and at the end of the day what’s the rush? Slow it all down peeps. We have all of eternity to discover our own truth.
Never forget. I keep my ear to the ground. I am the Listening Bank (lol). Don’t even consider resisting. Karma can be a right bitch lol.
Dizzee knows me. ‘That girl’s old news man, everyone’s been there’…fecking charming Dizzee lolz.
I’m not ‘into’ hip hop. I AM hip hop. I invented and inspired the genre and it is MY passion for justice and sanity that continues to inform its ongoing progress…as my son and I always used to sign our letters to each other ‘To eternity and beyond’ lolol. There will be more gobbledygook shortly no doubt as I am currently enduring an unprecedented spate of creativity.
One parting shot over the bows (whatever that means). As feminism became so horribly corrupted by human selfishness, greed and lust for power (not to mention perversion of the natural order of things) I have determined that as men are the new underdog I am now officially a masculist (sigh). Vacancies for beautiful, glamourous and gifted female friends to hang with. Apply in the sky lol.
No more love. I’m fecking done lovin’. It is, as Amy so correctly intoned, ‘a loser’s game’…
Meeting Her Mother
My name’s Ezra, and tho’ I don’t really like being referred to her as her ‘latest squeeze’ I am sure she has some good reason for doing so.
I respect the fact that she is older with greater life experience, so I don’t try to control her too much, except when I think she could benefit.
Meeting her Mum on Sunday was her idea, and I went along and didn’t resist because she hasn’t led me wrong so far. I am an arrogant and confident person by nature, so I don’t suffer too much with self-doubt and lack of confidence, so I felt OK about the prospect. Obviously I took some care over how I presented myself that morning, dressing in clothes that would make me appear least threatening or strange to a la middle class white lady in her eighties.
Louise (who you know as Zoe) sat me down to look at her family photo album with her so I would feel a bit more prepared. That was interesting. I didn’t know these people and I didn’t know the places where they lived and which they frequented, anymore than Louise would know about Gambia (where my dad has lived for many years), Jamaica, Dominica or anything much about the culture in which I grew up.
Me and Louise’s Mum hit it off pretty well. I genuinely enjoyed talking to her, we had a few laughs and I felt pretty relaxed. Louise’s son even phoned up in the course of the proceedings and spoke to both his mum and grandmother, and his input seemed pretty helpful and to be uplifting for them both.
Louise told me it would be an adventure, and she does enjoy adventures…she isn’t really cut out for a predictable routine. Well, haha, she was right about that! We had a few extremely bizarre and unusual incidents in the course of the day. I don’t feel like going into too much detail right now but it will certainly give me some stories to tell the grandkids lol.
Even though the journey on public transport was pretty stressful for Louise in her currently somewhat hyper state and the day was not without its challenges, I felt we did the right thing going and it was a successful day. It yielded some good results, the most important of which was that we were able to set Louise’s mum’s mind at rest about the kind of person who was now sharing her life.
Amicable relations and at least some level of trust are now reestablished between Louise and her Mum and we all stand to benefit from that as they have historically been very close and are a big part of each other’s lives. The fact that her son also reestablished contact after several months of remaining incommunicado, was a real bonus. Louise’s mum unselfishly prepared us a delicious meal even though she herself didn’t feel like eating.
We arrived back home in one piece finally and felt we had achieved a lot in the course of a day. Louise has good instincts when it comes to people especially her near and dear ones, and they proved to be spot on on this occasion I must admit. It felt good to be tentatively accepted by the family generally…well put it this way, at least they were not exactly hostile.
Her Mum was less hard on me than she was on Louise actually tell the truth. She seemed pretty convinced that I, unlike some of Louise’s previous ‘squeezes’, am of fairly sound mind and have a reasonably good understanding of her needs. I am also genuinely qualified to supply at least most of the basic ones. I even studied Health and Social Care to Level 3 quite recently!
So that’s Louise’s assessment of my experience….no I didn’t write this…Louise is bored of talking about herself all the time and thought she would have a go at getting inside someone else’s head lol. It’s all good.
Born Again Happy
Hi Peeps. My housemate and I are still together, still happy, discovering new things about each other and life itself every day. Finally loyal readers who have been with me for years, you can breathe a sigh of relief! My major life problems and worries are simply gone. I am coming into my own at long last.
As noted in previous posts I am surrounded by a strong and faithful team of friends and supporters, and I also have a viable long-term partner who wants nothing more than to share my life and living space.
Should I tell you a little more about the mystery guy? I have to keep a weather eye out for his confidentiality, but with this in mind I will sketch you out as many details as I can currently muster.
My guy is half Dominican and half Jamaican. He’s tall, athletic and handsome and also highly intelligent and creative. He is a free- thinker who resolutely goes his own way in life. He isn’t aggressive but stands his ground. He is not a yes-man but sometimes he will defer to my judgment and is very respectful. He is 20 years my junior. He is a Virgo lol (I’m Pisces), born in the Year of the Dog (very compatible with the Tiger).
He was a hip hop artist in his early twenties and I deeply admire his work. Yes folks, I’m living with a fecking star!! But an unassuming, modest one almost totally devoid of ego. He’s kind of a serious guy who feels he has a mission in life and must hold true to his own deepest beliefs and hard-won principles. Kind of a loner but a very sociable one…bit like me really. He’s always lived in this area so he knows it really well and his work is full of local references which give me a warm feeling inside when I hear them. You guys probably know that hip hop and Grime is all about ‘repping your ends’…giving due homage to your local neighbourhood, brethren and environment.
So here we are, a rags to riches story whereby an unreconstructed lunatic on benefits meets a fucking word-wizard/performer and somehow this unlikely pairing works! Maybe not so very surprising to those of you who realise how deep my hip hop roots go and how I’m something of a wordsmith myself despite being sadly incapable of rapping lol!
I am so happy folks. And no it isn’t Lerve’s Young Dream. It’s way more than a starry eyed romance. This is my soul partner. He’s practically perfect in every way, to quote Mary Poppins. And yeah, you may be a bit punch drunk from my last Great Love with M which went so horribly wrong. You may be concerned that this could go the same way.
Well M is now my best and closest friend in the world, no question. We are soulmates, but we’re both fine with a platonic relationship and have other partners now with no jealousy. So it isn’t like I was totally wrong about M, and I’m not wrong about this guy either, trust me!
I’m 53, a woman of a certain age, no longer of childbearing years, thought I was simply marking time until my Mum died so I could ‘catch the bus’ as we on suicide forums refer to suicide. And yes, I have my Nembutal. I don’t care who knows about that. I probably won’t need it now in all honesty, and am not a suicide risk in any case, never really was.
Now I am companionated. It’s no longer me against the world, it’s us. I have great friends around me and good relationships with my professional supporters such as my care coordinator Jane. I feel a tremendous resurgence of creativity and inspiration. I am in a state of Flow. Life has become pretty much effortless. This is the culmination and peak of my existence that I have been seeking and working toward my whole life.
And needless to say, the sex is fecking great lol!
So there we have it. The news is nothing but good. The cash flow situation is currently a little dicey but with a little help from various friends and professionals I am working on thaqt and don’t anticipate it being a problem for much longer. What you’ve got here is not a winner rescuing a loser but two winners pooling their considerable resources.
Yah boo sucks to my haters! You envied, feared and resented me even when I was down and out and yeah, you put the boot in when I was on my knees. I can only assume that you had some kind of psychic powers and knew that one day I would outstrip you and go utterly beyond you, and you didn’t like that. It’s all come to be. You didn’t kill me A and the Equals crew, you made me stronger and vastly increased my self-confidence and knowledge. So thank you to every enemy who has ever needlessly attacked me just simply for being the person I am.
It’s all good folks, and I know that my loyal readers and some of the new ones will be inwardly cheering me on and sending me only good vibes, and for that I will be eternally grateful. This blog has been yet one more resource that has kept me plugging on all these years and I love to go back over it from time to time, it provides an invaluable record of where I was at and often some fairly impressive insights though I do say so myself.
Thank you gentle reader for your indulgence of my freedom and happiness, and I wish only that you will be blessed with the same, more every day. For those of you currently going through some version of Hell, Purgatory or Limbo, please take heart from my story. Remember life is a pilgrimage down some very rocky, thorny paths, but it’s all progress even when it doesn’t feel that way.
Laters folks!
Dying Spiritually
I frequent suicide websites and chatrooms. This is well documented. No surprise to my gentle reader I daresay. I find a huge amount of support and identification with other depressed people who want nothing more than an ‘off-switch’ and wrestle with the desire to die every day.
Last autumn into winter I went through a psychotic episode. I believed myself to have died spiritually and been reborn into a new body. Think about it. If you have been passionately in love with easeful death – a quote from some poet or other – that means you have lived, breathed, slept and eaten with that partner for years. You have fused with your desires. You are one with the beloved.
There is no way that what we love and long for the most will not eventually come into our lives. It’s in the nature of the Law of Attraction (read up on it if you are unfamiliar with the concept).
This happened to me late last year. It is happening again now. In fact, what is happening now is making last year look like a warm-up.
I became close to a member of my favourite suicide chatroom. Let’s just call her Angel, whether that was her chosen nickname or not. I am a psychic Pisces, so I believe she has some messages for us.
Her plan was to jump from a specific bridge, which she named, today. She has not reappeared on the chat, so our assumption is that she is gone. But is she?
We have watched many members come and go, their individual journeys sketched in the few or many posts they put up as they wrestle with the last questions and struggles of an existence they no longer want. We see what would be commonly thought of as tragedies unfolding, and while we decline to moralise with anyone over their choices we are inwardly sad, even heartbroken when the reality of that person no longer being a part of our world sinks in.
We may want to die desperately ourselves but deeply ingrained in the human psyche is the desire to prevent others from taking a similar step. We can always see every reason why there is no hope for ourselves. Others, though, appear to be more worthy in our eyes, we want them to live and thrive and do all the things that we ourselves despair of ever being able to do again.
I’m here to give you hope, oh desperate ones, for I have been where you are for many years. I have suffered the ravages of manic depression most of my adult life. Suicide rates are high among our community for fairly obvious reasons.
I have reached the end of my pilgrimage to a better, or indeed any, life. Yes I literally had no life before, so the only way was up, right? How can I be sure that this change is not another illusory or delusional one, the product of the overheated manic mind? That it will not all end in tears as so many many times before?
The difference this time is that I have a strong community of support around me. Friends and associates who sincerely promote my growth and understand my needs and concerns. Close bonds peeps. Relationship and connection turned out to be all, in my case. That might not be true for everyone but it is probably true for many. People are key. We are social animals at risk of being tedious and repetitive.
I am in a state of Flow. This is true happiness, not walking around with a big silly grin on your face. There will always be challenges to be overcome, but in a state of Flow there is no longer a struggle: overcoming obstacles is an effortless process and something you take in your stride, always guided to do the next ‘right’ thing. Choice is an illusion. There is only ever one correct response in any given situation, the challenge is to work out what that might be and have the confidence and self-assurance to follow through with it.
I am Companionated, as previously stated in my last post. I have a strong team of supporters and cheerleaders. Because one of the most endearing characteristics of the human animal is that we love to see freedom in others, even while we ourselves may still remain at least partly in chains. We are irresistibly drawn to the free man or woman, we want to be near them, to hang on their every word, to get a little reflected glory in the hope that we will ‘catch’ some of this freedom for ourselves as if it were contagious.
If you admire anything you see here, it is not me you are admiring. It is the Spirit of God speaking through me, because I am inspired. We all, deep down, want the same thing, whether we find it on a suicide chatroom, by pursuing excellence in a sport or academic discipline, by whatever road we choose in life that brings us closer to the ultimate Goal.
Companionated
Hi Peeps. time to update you just a bit.
Truth is a fair bit of my life right now is simply X-rated and unreportable on this blog! Shame, but there we are. Family members could read it, the law could read it, I have other people’s confidentiality to consider also.
What can I tell you dear peeps?
I have been a bit naughty with the ol’ substances lately. Not been to the Recovery Service this week because of that really, though my key worker from there did hit me up yesterday and we had a nice chat, he;’s very understanding and clued up. He could tell I was still ‘high’ so he said he would check in with me again today when I’ve come down a bit.
Well I did experience the comedown late yesterday and no it wasn’t too pretty. But let’s face it I am no stranger to comedowns in any case, substances or not! Actually the comedowns from mania are pretty much the worst thing in my world. It’s a bit like a suicide attempt gone wrong. You lie down with the empty pill bottle, drift into blissful unconsciuousness thinking at last it’s all over and I can have peace, then maybe a nice little near death experience where you’re all blissed out and about to meet God. Then bam! The medical team bring you around in a hospital ward and you’re back on Planet Earth with a bump, cursing the miserable fate that brought you here and in an even worse situation than before because of what you tried to do.
I might add at this point, for the record, that I have never attempted suicide. Unless you count some absurdly half-assed moves like trying to drown myself in a sink (lol) while banged up in hospital in a mixed state.
It’s early morning here, thank the gods I at least got five or so hours of natural sleep, having been completely sleepless for the previous 24 hours. I am relieved I went with my gut and didn’t take on a commitment to voluntary work at this particular juncture in my life. It would only have added to the stress and pressure, and I hate letting people down. My life is so trippy, most of my energy goes into enduring or struggling to ‘manage’ it and not run into too much trouble along the way. Basically it’s survival mode 99% of the time. And no it’s not because of wilful reckless behaviour either. That’s simply the hand I was dealt when I succumbed to the ravages of a serious bipolar disorder with frequent episodes of psychosis that don’t necessarily get controlled by psychiatric drugs.
To be honest I could sum it up in very few words. They (the system) do their best to drive you mad and then lock you up for it. Same applies to many people in the prison system. We’re all deviants just locked into a struggle to survive in this often ruthless and dangerous world. We do what we feel we must and then take the consequences. I’m a criminal too, my crimes are thinking my own thoughts instead of what has been planted there by the powers that be. To be an authentic human being is probably to be a criminal de facto, and I’m sure I’m not the first person to have observed that.
Well I get paid today. I have someone staying with me at the moment, kind of a house guest. He needed asylum and a roof over his head. He is conscientious about contributing to the household expenses wherever he can and is definitely not a piss taker, but God knows he has an awful lot on his plate. I tend to be drawn to such people, like attracts like. I have nothing in common with people with very nice lives who go on facebook to brag about them. People in crisis attract me like a bee to a honeypot. Naturally it doesn’t make for an easy life but at least there is plenty of common ground, empathy, understanding.
Have been hanging out with M a lot and we’ve thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. It’s a bit like when we first got together only with no sex involved. Just two free spirits bouncing off each other, laughing at anything and everything and gathering strength from being together ‘us against the world’. Even when we were together I used to call him my ‘gay best friend’ and it’s still very much like that even though M is very far from gay. But he is not afraid to show vulnerability and has a highly developed feminine side. Being with him always was and still is, a bit like tripping.
I still have no real life close female friends and do not miss them. The whole saga with A (see the Equals story circa 2010) affected my trust in women. There seems to be a difficult dynamic in many of my female friendships, where I somehow feel they make excessive demands of me and I just can’t relax with them. Jealousy can also rear its ugly head, and I have frequently been ganged up on by groups of bitchy women. I honestly prefer men in just about every way possible. Love my mum as much as the next person of course, she is the only female friend I need (oh, and the cat). I’m just not a girly, hen night, ladies who lunch kind of gal. I feel no privation over the matter because I get a lot of emotional support and affection from male friends… whether ‘with benefits’ or without.
Just my thoughts for today.
Am I Still Ill? 