Morrissey you’re my guiding light in this soap opera that is my life. It’s extremely murky without looking to you for direction home.
The Drivel Thread
- Thread starter Light Housework
- Start date
I was walking to the grocery store with a neighbour friend, and saw a man across the street who was staring at me shamelessly, and not in a friendly way. He looked like he may have been the technician that pierced my chest months ago. Maybe he’s not satisfied with having injected some horrible disease into me, because I’m still able to enjoy life despite that, so far anyway. Oh well, what can I do? I’m not going to start carrying a knife with me. Or pepper spray. Hmm. Maybe I should go find myself a little canister of pepper spray. My middle finger of my left hand keeps spasming from side to side.
I enjoyed spending some time at the cafe with N this afternoon, and walking with her. I bumped into A too and that was good. My finger’s stopped spasming.
A neighbour just came over to give me a necklace with a butterfly pendant on it. I invited her to sit down and hang out. We chatted. She asked me what the meaning of life is to me, and I said that I just practise awareness of the present, and hope to spend some quality time with Morrissey. Then I asked her if she wanted to hear a Morrissey song, and she answered yes so I played I’m Not A Man, and we were silent while listening to it. She might knock again this evening if she decides to take a walk with me. I showed her and another neighbour what tahini is today. Hummus too. I showed one neighbour what hummus is.
I wonder if that malicious technician is after me, angry that I’m not doing more poorly by now. I got a bad vibe from whoever that was staring at me from across the street today. Same vibe as that technician’s. I’m still going to go walking this evening, with my neighbour or alone, and if the technician kills me, then he kills me. I just do my best. I have no pepper spray or Swiss army knife to carry in my pouch, so it’ll be easy for him if he’s intent on doing me in. I hope Morrissey will get Nancy Sinatra to have her connections find him and hold him accountable if he finishes me off this evening. Bonfire of old ladies.
I enjoyed spending some time at the cafe with N this afternoon, and walking with her. I bumped into A too and that was good. My finger’s stopped spasming.
A neighbour just came over to give me a necklace with a butterfly pendant on it. I invited her to sit down and hang out. We chatted. She asked me what the meaning of life is to me, and I said that I just practise awareness of the present, and hope to spend some quality time with Morrissey. Then I asked her if she wanted to hear a Morrissey song, and she answered yes so I played I’m Not A Man, and we were silent while listening to it. She might knock again this evening if she decides to take a walk with me. I showed her and another neighbour what tahini is today. Hummus too. I showed one neighbour what hummus is.
I wonder if that malicious technician is after me, angry that I’m not doing more poorly by now. I got a bad vibe from whoever that was staring at me from across the street today. Same vibe as that technician’s. I’m still going to go walking this evening, with my neighbour or alone, and if the technician kills me, then he kills me. I just do my best. I have no pepper spray or Swiss army knife to carry in my pouch, so it’ll be easy for him if he’s intent on doing me in. I hope Morrissey will get Nancy Sinatra to have her connections find him and hold him accountable if he finishes me off this evening. Bonfire of old ladies.
I’m going for a walk soon, though I’m a bit scared after getting stared at by Mr. Bad Vibes ad nauseum today from across the street. I think he had on a long coat, and I wonder what’s in its pockets meant for me. If he’ll stick a syringe needle into me with something malignant in it, I don’t want to think about what else he’d like to stick in me. I’m waiting to see if my neighbour will knock to walk with me or not. Then I’ll take off, and I hope I won’t have to look at the technician’s smug sadistic mug as he spills out my intestines like Jack The Ripper. If I do, I’ll take it like a woman.
Still alive, though the chest sore kept biting me a bit on the way up here.
I gave one Morrissey sticky note away to a friendly man whose dog was very friendly. He looked half Asian and half Hispanic. The dog was a golden retriever I think. Other than that it wasn’t a friendly walk much. An Asian woman who gave me a smile had two dogs with her, one which was friendly but I didn’t feel the urge to ask her if she’d heard of Morrissey. I guess she seemed preoccupied with her two dogs. My chest sore nagged at me through most of my walk, and it looks slightly inflamed where the stitches are. It’s not bothering me right now. I hate most of the human race at the moment. Particularly males that look at me like they’d like to see me come to a bad end. The other day I watched a video of men in music who have a bed reputation. Morrissey was the last one, for an observation he made, and for something he said while angry about cruelty to animals, but before Morrissey, there was a husky black guy rapping on stage before a huge audience, and a white girl got up on stage beside him and was dancing joyfully, and the guy decked her in the head and she went crashing down to the stage floor, and I think she said that she has permanent damage. He punched her really hard, for dancing to his music! I’m under the impression that cruelty to females is becoming more popular than it already was. Look what was done to me recently, by that medical technician. He wasn’t trying to adjust my electrodes. He was injecting something malicious into my chest.
I hope that green patch of skin is just bruising. I’m tired and sleepy. Hitting the hay soon.
Napped and woke up with the song Games People Play by Alan Parsons Project in my head.
Kind people, take over and take good care of narcissists, but keep their hands off the controls.
I want that written on my grave.
Started painting Consternation Morrissey.
The first photo is from last Friday I think. The rest are from my walk today.
Some insect got into my sweatpants as I sat on the bench in the park I guess, and bit me several times. I hope it won't procreate in my apartment. Here's a selfie I took on my walk. Because I'm vain.
“Someone who’s worth it in this murkiness."
I’m feeling sad, and see myself like a mute dog who was abused by a veterinarian behind closed doors. I expect the biopsy result to be malignant and rapidly aggressive, and I will just have to swallow no one seeming to have any teeth to stop him from doing this to someone else. I am very sad. I would like to blast his face in, but I have no means to do so. *multiple sigh* It's just a fantasy. I wish I was a gang member and could exact justice. I'm alone with the memory of what he secretly did to me.
another multiple sigh later
Sadness can be paralyzing.
Napped and woke with Alan Parson’t Project’s song Games People Play in my head. The technician who surreptitiously attacked me months ago first peppered me with a million questions, and listened to none of my answers. Head games indeed, followed by a physical assault with a biological weapon. Why can’t I morph into Rambo?
Anger feels like ravenous hunger, only it’s not located in the stomach, but in the chest and throat.
JerryCan
Well-Known Member
What a beautiful neighbourhood you live in Sharon!
Woke up with “Sugar pie honey bun, you know that I love you!” in my head after visualizing a detective finding proof on the pavement in the form of a bullet’s casing, and feeling hope in my chest. I know that’s not proper grammar or proper writing, but I’m ok with that right now while I’m doped up from deeply sleeping.
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