News just breaking but not yet confirmed. I think Mr and Mrs Gimpy Gull have finally settled down to parenthood There has been a bird on the nest all day since I got up. Fingers crossed we have eggs at long last. The waking dreams and wild, sometimes violent, thoughts continue but more of them later.
Art arrived and we sauntered in SD manner down to one of the seafront benches. Whilst basking in the sun Gav Keruish sauntered on by. We hailed him and he stopped for a SD gossip. I took a pic and posted it on my FB page when I got home. After he left we moved on to the westerly facing bench on the Madeira Lift for a spot of direct sunlight. I saw a face from my past. I called out and he too stopped. We exchanged gossip and news and my loins did a little lurch. He is John, the indefatigable fucker from nearly 20 years ago. We set up a personal best all time fuck of 4 hours non stop My lips still get moist when I think about the times we had together. Alas he was two timing his boyfriend who he later introduced to me That was a near fatal blow. The coup de grace came one hot afternoon in August when I was giving him a blow job on my balcony. He took a call from the BF and launched into a catalogue of fantastic lies whilst feeding his protrusion into my less than eager mouth. The death knell of a good relationship. I did not want to be party to those kinds of deceptions. The moment I could put a face and a name to the BF was the moment I knew it was at an end. Seeing him again brought all the good memories back. I perked up and told Art who he was once he had wandered off into town. It is always good to identify a person from one of my stories. It gives them more credibility. After we left the seafront we meandered back towards the block where I live. I sat on a bench while Art returned to the car to pick up my gin. I came home in a very good mood.
I woke the next day in a desperately sad dream. I was surrounded by a group of men who were about to beat me up for some unknown reason. I realised I was in a waking dream so I took charge. I was not their victim. I pirouetted around them all the time telling them how pointless it was for them to hurt me. Naturally I won whatever argument it was we were having. Then out of nowhere the trump, johnson combo appeared. Anger set in and I verbally set about the two of them knowing full well it was far beyond anything I could do to stop them in their tracks. I woke in a grumpy mood. I took that mood into my waking life that afternoon. I could not get rid of either of them no matter how I tried. So I settled down with a cuppa and buttered and jamed hot X bun. I relaxed and let rip. I allowed it all to go coursing through my mind. I allowed myself to go to the brink of pessimism and negativity. To see what type of world they would bring about.
My mind wandered down the nuclear power station route. Nuclear waste we are as yet unable to clear up.
That alone is a horrendous legacy to leave our children and their children’s children down through many generations. Plastic? Forget about the plastic if the nuclear problem cannot be solved. And so it went on and on within my head. I finished up realising I cannot solve this problem. I cannot solve any of the worlds problems. There was no point in me upsetting myself. My energies were best spent on being good to all the friends around me whilst I am still here. I’m not giving up or giving in just yet. Oh no! I want to see the next 5 years out at least. Within that time the true tempo of the planet will have been set in motion for everyone to see. For no one to be able to deny or pass the buck onto someone else. Having allowed myself to undergo all of those…..
Laundry stop. Had to go down to put the washing into the driers. Mid sentence.
….. negative thoughts I actually felt better. Rather than bottle them all up and try to deny them, in my old age I now feel confident enough own them as mine. Once they are out in the open they cannot do any damage. Yes certainly thoughts do have a life of their own but hopefully this way for me I can limit any lasting damage in my own mind. They are not secretly festering and turning into something else vile and nasty. Hopefully.
It was good to participate in the NHS clap I got into rhythmic off beat clapping guided by my upstairs neighbours who were playing tunes on their kitchen ware. I’ve seen a clapping choir somewhere on TV and they looked great. I’ll find out if there are any clapping lessons online. Meanwhile ‘Ladies who lunch,’ All four lines of it kept doing the rounds in my head. A music worm. I happened upon the utube or is that Youtube? Who gives a fuck? Their series of videos, a group of which were various artists singing ‘Ladies who lunch.’ I loved them all. Each one brought something new to the lyrics.
To top it all, this afternoon I had a working session with A J who spent an hour setting me up on Skype. I’m doing interviews with him regarding GLF and memories of the fantabulous John Chesterman who with Graham Chapman from Monty Python set up and funded our spectacular demo in Westminster Hall against The Nationwide Festival of Light. I was duly arrested the following afternoon in Trafalgar Sq. Dressed as a 1930’s teacher with bamboo cane, marshalling my pupils along behind the late Richard Dipple who was Jesus carrying the cross. Mary Whitehouse was not best pleased. Nor were her cohorts Lord Longford, Malcolm Muggeridge, Cliff Richard and Olivia Newton John, amongst others. I think we might have cemented Cliff into his closet Or was that the money? The fame? The Adulation?
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