SWIZZLY SUNDAY... Sunday morning... Sunday: lost day... I don't know!... Do you? Do you think my Mum knows I'm still using? She always talks about it in past tense... I feel so ashamed... That's why things must change.
I have been working on my alcohol consumption. I've cut my drinking in half within a couple of days. Do you know what did the trick? I took up drinking tea for breakfast instead. Because (looking back) I just realized I had been drinking nothing but white cyder for breakfast, luncheon and dinner and everything in between and afterwards! Nothing but cyder. No wonder I felt under the weather some days.
Yesterday I found myself sitting with all the drinkers at the bus stand outside a local supermarket. Only two were there, these two are the nearest to friends I have among that bunch. When I did used to hang out with street people (well: at one point, I was one) it was the junkies. But there are no street junkies left anymore. Only the shoplifters, theives, rip-off artists and prostitutes. No "crustie" street junkies after the 1990s fashion (army surplus clothing, dredlocks/halfheads/shaven/punky colours, dogs on strings) seem to be left. Many are dead. Others have gone back to Scotland and Ireland (we had a huge Celtic contingent) ... one or two have cleaned up. But it is just one or two ...
Anyway this lady I struck up conversation with said I looked so much better than last time. Shame about her. In a way she did look good (nice and clean. Hair recently cut and neat. She had a touch of makeup on and nice clothes considering.) But she was vague and staring into space. I mentioned something about the time I got hit by a truck and had concussion for a week. She grabbed my hand and put it on a long stitched up cut lump on the back of her head - surely about 20 stitches were there - and told how she'd just got discharged from hospital after perhaps four days. But everything she said was a bit vague... Then an Irishman who I know quite well showed up. When people wonder which Irishman I'm talking about I tend to say "he has really blue eyes"... thing is they all have intense blue eyes no matter what the hair colour. Real blue, sometimes ringed with white. (Not like my mongrel English eyes: bluey-green with circles of what someone once poetically put as "brimstone" - yellow bits round the pupil. See now you can pick me out in an identity parade!) Anyway: thing about this guy is, I've seen him reeling all over the pavements and falling and burbling and calling out... Now he is stone cold sober and all the better for it. Quite amazing. During our encounter she ran off and reappeared with a pair of large white "England" trainers (sneakers). They fit me fine. So that's what I'm wearing now... Whoever threw them away was a trainer-snob because they're hardly worn-out. But maybe they're last season: who knows?
Music playing is Amy Winehouse Back to Black. I slept with this on constant replay. This is what made me feel upset the other morning... Sometimes music goes right under into subconscious.
Thanks, Wayward especially for your dream interpretation. My "holiday camp" prison dream. Where the "jail" seemed so easy to escape from ... to any outside observer ... but of course escape was near impossible. Every time I tried I was fished back inside by (as I recall) invisible forces. Yes of course that symbolizes my addiction. And the fact that though anyone can sympathize with addiction because we're all dependent on different things to differing degrees you cannot begin to comprehend chemical dependency unless you've witnessed it first hand ... or more to the point, lived it yourself...
Yesterday I went to the fish shop where they had a tropical fish "bowl"... I use the word bowl advisedly, since technically it was bowl-shaped but if you're thinking goldfish bowl think again. This held 45 litres of water (about 12 gallons) and came complete (in glass) with heater, filter and light. When the woman saw it was me enquiring she was so dismissive; I thought f--- you and left. I've given up on the idea of fish in my present residence anyway (though I could still have dwarf frogs: two can live in as little as 1.5 gallons (6 litres!) water; they don't need a filter and aparently, providing your home is warm enough the temperature will be high enough... Anyway... no fish for me yet. I have decided to use the tank for Robo Hamsters (Roborovskis). They are social hamsters about the size and nearly as round as pompoms on wooly hats. They ping about all over ... they don't bite, they live long... My present Chinese hammy is fine he is just so shy there's nothing to see of him! So it's robos for me... of course if I do get them this blog will never hear the end of it ....
OK I better go:
These are the vids I pasted today
Amy Winehouse: Back to Black
The Aurora Australis ("Southern Lights") - aren't they cool??
It was Christmas eve in a war zone - I just about managed to rise this morning but shining is still a long way off. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I had my usual stress dream last night....
2 hours ago