Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
He Reminds Me of Ban
The Drivel Thread
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Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
Nut
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
Me dancing to November Spawned a Monster, and The More You Ignore Me
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
No One
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
Me singing Black Cloud
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
I met a homeless guy called Spencer today. He said he got started doing heroin because he was homeless and thought he would die of homelessness anyway, and now he's hopelessly hooked. So this is what I wrote.
"I'm thinking of making a killing with my paintings and hiring people to make sure Spencer can't bring anyone home with him, once he gets a home, on my dime. Maybe he could come paint with me. I wonder if he'd like to do that, but my psychiatrist wouldn't approve and, hmm, but I'm thinking of painting myself and making dough to fund a project for homing Spencer. I don't know how I'd go about it, but, I guess, start with doing some painting, which, I guess, I have to admit, I find somewhat boring after all. Building a website is something I must do. And, ask my mental health workers how to go about creating a fund for homing Spencer, including security who'll make sure he doesn't bring any bad people home with him. Hire mental health workers too, so he has what I have."
Now, I'm thinking it's an interesting idea, to get him painting, in the fair weather or, if I learn to trust him, at my home.
I'll ask him if I can take a picture or video of him, and post it here, if I can spot him again.
"I'm thinking of making a killing with my paintings and hiring people to make sure Spencer can't bring anyone home with him, once he gets a home, on my dime. Maybe he could come paint with me. I wonder if he'd like to do that, but my psychiatrist wouldn't approve and, hmm, but I'm thinking of painting myself and making dough to fund a project for homing Spencer. I don't know how I'd go about it, but, I guess, start with doing some painting, which, I guess, I have to admit, I find somewhat boring after all. Building a website is something I must do. And, ask my mental health workers how to go about creating a fund for homing Spencer, including security who'll make sure he doesn't bring any bad people home with him. Hire mental health workers too, so he has what I have."
Now, I'm thinking it's an interesting idea, to get him painting, in the fair weather or, if I learn to trust him, at my home.
I'll ask him if I can take a picture or video of him, and post it here, if I can spot him again.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
He said he's been homeless 5 years. I've had it lucky in the sense that I've never ended up having to stay out in the cold. Maybe he lied.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
For what it's worth (nothing!), here is a transcription of my morning pages.
"Fridge purrs. I'll see if I can find the Metrotown vagabond, to give him leg/wrist warmers. And f***ing Morrissey - A Christmas video shows me yawning and YAWNING. I'm pissed off at being judged, not understood. Sick of being watched cynically, rather than faithfully. I develop in my own sick way. I come from emotional neglect, attempted murders on my life, rapes, torture, being used by people, and it takes an awful lot, to even get me to live a slothful lifestyle, never mind be the apple of daddy's eye!
Because daddy's a cynic. f***ing psychiatrists have more faith in me than he does. I'm thinking of that psychiatrist who seemed to understand that my counselor was too judgementally harsh, cynical and negative about judging me. Greg, I think his name was. And that redhead I saw on Kingsway, he seemed to have faith and patience too, rather than the run of the mill cynicism and impatience. His face was a very welcome sight. I didn't have a business card to give him my phone number, and I didn't have the readyness to speak to him. So he slipped through my fingers.
Then I went looking for him, and stumbled upon panhandlers who were completely distracting, because I knew that to continue a surely fruitless search would feel like hell, and be a downer for everyone, with the panhandlers out in the cold within my range, of my awareness, immediate surroundings making me wake up to the fact that the mittens I bought many of are fantastic, but I bought them all in size small, being self centered, well, I'm very self centered to begin with, but then I branch out, but not quickly enough for dear old dad.
Oh, my adoptive dad would have had faith in me, but dear old Morrissey, will never understand me I guess. I'll change the subject now if I can, because there are only so many times I want to repeat the word CYNICAL, and IMPATIENT. Dear adoptive dad, and Nan, and Pete the canary, had faith in me, and as soon as they did, out came the knife of death. But no one hears me when I say, that this has happened, never mind comprehend the impact on my psyche, to be deprived of their faith, no one. Absolutely not even one person has even acknowledged the gravity of what I said, never mind empathized with me about losing, so much.
That redhead with his faithfulness, is it real? Or was it acting, to get my confidence up just to send it to crash and burn? A very convincing actor if he was merely acting. Because I believed it, and I still, believe it, until I see it change, like the weather.
Francois comes to mind now. He had faith too. He wasn't offended by my lascivious eyes. But I misunderstood our nonverbal cues. The eye language. So I walked out on him, and when I returned he was being guarded from me by Stephan. I had only gone to work, to get money, for basic needs. But my job was stripper. Major strike against me.
Robert Kermode, now comes to mind, with his cuddly sweater, four years old I'm guessing we were, how I wanted to nuzzle that sweater with him in it, but he moved away without saying goodbye, and when adult, seeing him again, and he was aloof, indifferent, maybe a little scornful. Steven Hadley, literally saved my life by pulling my tshirt, to pull me off the current, as my so called sister watched happily as my legs convulsed underneath me, but Steven shunned me when I went back to St. Eustache as an adult to see him. I was the devil as far as he was concerned. I've had a lovely life, I guess my little Moz thinks. f***in stinker.
Danny now comes to mind. I feel guilty for getting him to assist me in mugging, well, snatching, a little purse from a middle aged or old woman. Danny. I remember how innocently he laid down beside me, when we had run away from Reflection together, at my suggestion. Danny didn't realize Mike would swoop in like a vulture to seduce me with sex. I wonder what's happened to him. His sisters, suicided, he said. His knuckles, messed up from fighting in jail.
My life, has been a scramble for sanity. But so what, so what, so what!"
While transcribing, I remembered that someone, that guy from Sweden, I forget his name here, gave me cyber hugs or something. Maybe a few people listened, when I wrote in the Dear Ladies of Solo thread.
"Fridge purrs. I'll see if I can find the Metrotown vagabond, to give him leg/wrist warmers. And f***ing Morrissey - A Christmas video shows me yawning and YAWNING. I'm pissed off at being judged, not understood. Sick of being watched cynically, rather than faithfully. I develop in my own sick way. I come from emotional neglect, attempted murders on my life, rapes, torture, being used by people, and it takes an awful lot, to even get me to live a slothful lifestyle, never mind be the apple of daddy's eye!
Because daddy's a cynic. f***ing psychiatrists have more faith in me than he does. I'm thinking of that psychiatrist who seemed to understand that my counselor was too judgementally harsh, cynical and negative about judging me. Greg, I think his name was. And that redhead I saw on Kingsway, he seemed to have faith and patience too, rather than the run of the mill cynicism and impatience. His face was a very welcome sight. I didn't have a business card to give him my phone number, and I didn't have the readyness to speak to him. So he slipped through my fingers.
Then I went looking for him, and stumbled upon panhandlers who were completely distracting, because I knew that to continue a surely fruitless search would feel like hell, and be a downer for everyone, with the panhandlers out in the cold within my range, of my awareness, immediate surroundings making me wake up to the fact that the mittens I bought many of are fantastic, but I bought them all in size small, being self centered, well, I'm very self centered to begin with, but then I branch out, but not quickly enough for dear old dad.
Oh, my adoptive dad would have had faith in me, but dear old Morrissey, will never understand me I guess. I'll change the subject now if I can, because there are only so many times I want to repeat the word CYNICAL, and IMPATIENT. Dear adoptive dad, and Nan, and Pete the canary, had faith in me, and as soon as they did, out came the knife of death. But no one hears me when I say, that this has happened, never mind comprehend the impact on my psyche, to be deprived of their faith, no one. Absolutely not even one person has even acknowledged the gravity of what I said, never mind empathized with me about losing, so much.
That redhead with his faithfulness, is it real? Or was it acting, to get my confidence up just to send it to crash and burn? A very convincing actor if he was merely acting. Because I believed it, and I still, believe it, until I see it change, like the weather.
Francois comes to mind now. He had faith too. He wasn't offended by my lascivious eyes. But I misunderstood our nonverbal cues. The eye language. So I walked out on him, and when I returned he was being guarded from me by Stephan. I had only gone to work, to get money, for basic needs. But my job was stripper. Major strike against me.
Robert Kermode, now comes to mind, with his cuddly sweater, four years old I'm guessing we were, how I wanted to nuzzle that sweater with him in it, but he moved away without saying goodbye, and when adult, seeing him again, and he was aloof, indifferent, maybe a little scornful. Steven Hadley, literally saved my life by pulling my tshirt, to pull me off the current, as my so called sister watched happily as my legs convulsed underneath me, but Steven shunned me when I went back to St. Eustache as an adult to see him. I was the devil as far as he was concerned. I've had a lovely life, I guess my little Moz thinks. f***in stinker.
Danny now comes to mind. I feel guilty for getting him to assist me in mugging, well, snatching, a little purse from a middle aged or old woman. Danny. I remember how innocently he laid down beside me, when we had run away from Reflection together, at my suggestion. Danny didn't realize Mike would swoop in like a vulture to seduce me with sex. I wonder what's happened to him. His sisters, suicided, he said. His knuckles, messed up from fighting in jail.
My life, has been a scramble for sanity. But so what, so what, so what!"
While transcribing, I remembered that someone, that guy from Sweden, I forget his name here, gave me cyber hugs or something. Maybe a few people listened, when I wrote in the Dear Ladies of Solo thread.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
This guy's keeping me company right now. His name is Chris. He has sleep apnea I think. I'm at The Kettle Society drop in.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
It's warm in here.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
This plant has a strange smell.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
This guy's having serious first time withdrawals, it turns out.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
Ooh, sex costumes is all I ever stood for.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
Just dressing, me. No substance.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
I don't measure up to Kylie.
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
But I do like Meat is Murder.
D
Deleted member 30524
Guest
Are you still at the kettle society??
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
I'm comfortable at home right now, but I had a really good time at The Kettle. I don't know why they're not called The Kettle Friendship Society anymore. Thinking of hauling soup there tomorrow. Then there'd be something edible there for me. But I won't be able to eat it all, though am pretty damned good at gorging.
D
Deleted member 30524
Guest
I’m Pleased you’ve had a good day
Light Housework
Astronauts on spaceship Earth we are.
I got to scream "Bullshit". Got kicked out. But I was about to leave anyway. I can go back tomorrow.I’m Pleased you’ve had a good day
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