I’ve got a pocket full of pretty green

Actually I’ve got a purse full of fucking change that I can never spend myself rid of.

Now the point to this blog is that it never used to be that way and I think I know why. Up until last year I always seemed to have a couple of squids and a few pennies in my purse (along with an absence of notes) but ever since Gordon Brown changed the VAT rate from whatever it was to some arbitrary number he saw on the back of a scratchcard he bought to try and win TeamUKGB (or whatever we are called) out of this recession I have so much change that I can no longer fit it all in my purse. I’m sure you’re the same? Go look now – do you have unsightly bulges in your Louis Vuitton purses? Do you have excess change neatly stacked up in it’s correct piles on the fireplace? Or worse – in one of the over-sized empty (but not now! it’s full of fucking change) whisky bottles? And where the hell do they come from?

Anyway, the VAT rate change. Now we always used to buy something for, say, £9.99 and get a solitary penny to tuck back in to our purse or more realistically say, “keep the change”, as it was not even worth the effort of holding our hands out for. But now that price is, say, for example, £9.76 ( I know it’s not but it’s an example, ok?) and so we get 24p change. Which isn’t so bad right? Three coins, 20p and two 2p’s. So why the huge increase in how much we all have to lug about? Well, it’s in the words, “sorry luv, I don’t have any 20’s…or 2p’s…will pennies do you?”. You see the poor shopkeeper has to give out so much more change these days that they have the reverse problem and never have enough change. But I guess they can now get their own back by dishing out all those 1p’s we were too busy/rich for in the past but now need to suck down and grasp as the economy goes down the plughole.

It’s a funny old reversed world.

A dark day

The 30th of March 2009 was a very dark day indeed. Not for what is troubling me of late and hinted at in an earlier blog but for the fact that yesterday I took the blackest of steps and sold my soul to facebook.

A vow to myself to never become a facewhore has been broken and I feel somewhat shabby about it – BUT – already after just a few hours I can see the appeal of it – oh god! Maybe it’s similar to a crack addict after their first hit or an alcoholics first drink but I fear my life will never be the same again. The constant search for long lost friends or people I only bumped in to for milliseconds at a second rate house party has begun – and I want to find them all!

I’m sure I’ve said this before

But why can’t we live our lives lying down? All my best ideas, thoughts and coherence come while I am horizontal. Preferably lying in a darkened state too. As though the sun was constantly dimmed. And half-asleep. Or should that be half-awake? Either way, three things to improve the quality of my life, the output of my own GDP.

I want to blog

I want to blog so much about something that is happening to me right now but I won’t. I can’t.

All I can say, not that I think it will be read by the person who needs to read it, is don’t give up on me. Please. I am dying inside.

I love you.

The written word falls apart in the modern age

It’s a shame but the medium that I love the most can cause the worst kind of pain.  I love words, be they singular or strung together to concoct some kind of story. But, and this is important, when those words are no longer being spoken but appearing via a text message then all hell can break loose.

I thought chat windows were bad enough but at least you had room enough to portray something of the intent and emotion behind what you were trying to tell someone. Text messages though, limited by size, are a danger to sanity. There is no way you can infer to somebody, nor they read in to what you have written, the true meaning of it all. Even those smug yellow faces don’t help.

Was it always this way? Did letters cause as much confusion? No I don’t think they did. After all, I am old enough to have written enough over the years and on occasion still do. Maybe cavemen had the same problem with their clan trying to decipher exactly what the bison with a spear sticking out of it actually meant.

So, why this blog? Because I read a series of text messages yesterday that caused my brain to read them 100% one way while the author of said messages wrote them (almost I guess) 100% in another manner altogether. The end result being my heart smashed through the floor, as I believed someone incredibly special to me was being prized away. Thankfully my smile is starting to reappear and spirits clawing their way back up after speaking words rather than reading them.

Mini-blog

I want to blog but I am apathetic towards it. I want to pixelate the thousands of words spiralling around inside my head but I can’t.

The best, and so the hardest times to write, are in bed. No matter whether I am trying to get to sleep, dreaming, or gently slipping back to reality, everything seems to vanish into a fuzzy haze to be irretrievable as soon as I think about what I have been thinking about . By the time I get to find a pen and paper the ideas have already passed me by.

I’m bored with this blog already. Why can’t I find the enthusiasm to write just lately?

6 days off work and 4 of them travelling

The title says it all but then doesn’t it always? Um..no!

Having my first real break from work since starting my new job back in…July was it? And I need it! Just wish I wasn’t having to spend four days of it getting to and from places. Still, for two of those days I will either, hopefully, be heading towards the love of my life or in her company heading back to mine, so it’s not as bad as it may seem. It’s going to be so good to kind of let go on Christmas Eve when I get there and just let the troubles of the world lose themselves on the winding country roads heading off into the cold, cold night, while I stay warm and cosy with my girl.

It’s my first Christmas sans family, which will be weird I guess but that’s not to say it wont be wonderfabulous too. Think my parents will be okay without me. That’s not to sound like I’m the be all and end all of Christmas but you know what parents are like, right? Still, they have a houseful where they are, so I don’t think I will be missed for more than ten minutes before the screaming of the kids begins just after 5am!  Anyway, they are the remaining two other days of travel that the heading up there spoke about, so don’t fret about them!

So, this is Christmas and what have you done…well, John, I’ve got myself a new job, fallen head over heels in love and had my brain awoken to numerous possibilities that the future may hold…will hold. Not bad is it. How about you?

Peace, love and general good wishes to you all…I say all…I mean those that are unlucky enough to have stumbled here while searching for either Lennon lyrics or because they have read the rest of the internet.

Be good girls n boys and Santa may come a calling.

Scum

Fucking lowlife fucking scum who steal from my girlfriend’s car. That’s all they are…scum.

I wanted to give her a lovely weekend break away from her busy work and home life and some one, or bodies, decide to literally prise open her car and steal her bag from within containing things of value, things of no value but to her heart (which surely must have broken a little at least) and things that are just a pain to get stopped, or anew or replaced.To them it was just a “nothing” crime…a means to an end but for her it was so much more.

Guilt is what I feel most of all. Guilt for it happening while she was down here to see me. Guilt for living in what is a nice quiet place mostly but seems to be getting ever more surrounded by the scum of the earth. The drug dealing, jobless, chav, fucking scum. It’s not often I get angry these days but I am about this and what’s worse still is that there is nothing I can do about it.

Hope you are feeling all right about it tonight darling. Wish you didn’t have to leave, so I could keep you wrapped safely in my arms for evermore. It wont happen again.

I’m not fine by the way

Why is it that almost everyone I chat to on-line these days doesn’t seem even the slightest bit interested in how I am feeling? It gets to the point where I sit there waiting for just a general, “how are you?” or “how’s life?” but nothing appears. I mean this is after an hour or more of chatting…when conversations are coming to a close.

I’ve listened to their woes and tried to help them through their problems, which I don’t mind, as I am a good listener and resolver, so I have been told. But how can so many people be so self-centered to not even think of asking how someone else is? Do they do that with everyone they know or just me? Have I become the doormat for their muddy souls (deliberate)?

Maybe I just need to change the people I hang about with online or perhaps reassess how I deal with people. Perhaps next time I wont ask them how they are and the conversation will just be an empty chat window. Going nowhere. Like “friendships” often do in the end.

Empty

I read this quote quite some time ago and it’s stuck with me ever since. I had been pondering the meanings and workings of  people and friendships too much at the time and it’s odd how this just happened to pop up. Do others feel like this when they realise certain truths?

“I didn’t realise that you can’t make old friends, that you can only lose them, and that in losing them you walk around with a void inside that you can never adequately explain.“

- Beth Kephart (Into the Tangle of Friendship)