VALIUM MARILYN noticed I was very nervous today. She somehow can tell the difference between manic and nervous, which I'm not sure most people could because both make me hyperkinetic. Difference being I keep blanking out in nervousness. Manic goes on and on and on. So I'm not a maniac any more. I keep getting letters from bailiffs trying to push me into suicide. I haven't opened a single one by the way but I know their attitude. They try and hack and hack away at you until you give in and do one. Ingredients: antiemetics, a bellyfull of medication (which won't kill you, just knock you out) and a swirling river or violent, lonely stretch of sea. Or a plain old railway. Or a posh clinic in Switzerland. I don't want to commit suicide I want to become a children's author instead.
If only I could marshall my thoughts into a book. I did write a short story but stories start and stop too quickly. I prefer novels, which gain momentum from themselves. I have written 3 in my time. 3 buckets of pigshit, but 3 done. I only know where the last one is. I know what's gonna happen: still I will have the council tax on my back even after one billion sales. Agatha Christie had tax problems her entire life. Something to do with having been resident in the USA and no treaties against double-taxation in her day. Which meant she sold rights to half her income to Booker for not much more than one million in today's money. Which cleared the debt. She lived in a very nice house near the sea. I would quite like to live in the 1930s with parlour maids and skullery maids and butlers. If you want to know about that world, read A Woman Of Substance by Barbara Taylor Bradford. The first half of that book is exceptionally well written. In the second half the heroine somehow goes from servant to multimillionairess department store mogul without ever borrowing money, losing money or having the slightest glitch in her glittering business success. Barbara Taylor Bradford should do The Apprentice. With business acumen like hers she'd be bound to win.
Why do they always put Barbra's voice too far back in the mix? I would have been 3 when she made this performance. And I don't drink alcohol any more!!
You know how I stopped? Same way I always used to give up cigarettes. Just remind myself of everything I loathe about alcohol. And there's a lot to loathe. That technique never worked on heroin as I loved the image, loved the drug, adored everything about heroin. That's me and heroin. Not heroin that kills kids in magazine articles. I mean heroin that made me beautiful inside. Heroin that made the lassitude and meaninglessness of life melt away. Heroin my lovely lovely heroin.
Now I think of old junkies and me not coping. I think I got mentally ill because heroin gives you a stress-free life. Making you more susceptible to stress. Making me get sideswiped by psychosis or bipolar or whatever it is. I no longer care for the title: it's not like a diagnosis makes me Duke of Norfolk now, is it? Or that the title distinguishes me from a mere marquess? I never did understand people who wear mental diagnostics round their necks like Olympic gold medals. What for? Probably to justify living on DLA for ever and not committing suicide.
Oh I was going to say something about suicide YET AGAIN but notice how in that clip Barbra Streisand gets such an ovation ~ and that early in her career.
By the way Valium Marilyn is dying her hair exactly the same shade as mine. Schwarzkopf 00A or A00 Absolute Platinum. Still photographs the colour of nicotine stains even though it looks near-white under stark light. I'm leaving it on longer next time. My hair looks crap now with horrible roots lurking near halfway along it. I thought that look might look superior, but I don't really like it. I'm buying another pack next week. Schwarzkopf do a tomato red which I was thinking of saving for a manic episode. If I died it that colour normally I'd just wear a hat until it grew out. If I was manic I'd thoroughly enjoy striding about looking like a lightbulb in a brothel.
This song is awful, so awful it makes me laugh out loud "Extra extra! I'm in luuurve... I gotta thank my lucky stars a-ah-buuurve! Hurreh, hurreh don't be late!" Funny grandma is throwing a partay...
What actually are bluebirds? Are they like the tiny tits we get in European gardens? (Bluetits?)
Yellowbridge Chinese dictionary: http://www.yellowbridge.com/chinese/wordsearch.php?searchMode=P&word=zuo&dialect=M&select=whole
Valium Marilyn was pilled out this afternoon. Bloody hell. I slept for hours on end when I got back. Like an old pensioner. I'm too tired nowadays. Hey you know those photochromic glasses I got, they only darken properly in the sun. Not like the old Reactolite Rapides that went dark the minute you stepped into daylight, whatever the weather...
I think I should get a job as a poet. I wanna be the Barbra Streisand of literature. Not perfect, but unequalled. Yes I hear you yelling WRITE WRITE WRITE but I can't even clean my house. How can I write. And bailiffs wanna take away my computer, the bastards. Then I will HAVE to commit suicide. Even though I shouldn't be PAYING the council tax. I'm thinking of going to my member of parliament. Then he/she can straighten this out. I bet my local MP is a tory. Tories should be shot between the eyes (I say even though if I were tied down and forced to vote I'd vote tory ahead of Labour any day! In America I would probably be a death-penalty loving Democrat. It's easier in America as everyone appears to be pro-rich and pro-low taxes. I want to be rich and pay low taxes, y'see, so that's my one political view. Low taxes for the rich and for me. Especially once my fortune surpasses one hundred million...)
the end of the world is coming, which means a lot of us may never die because we will live through the end of the old world into the birth of the new one...
Marilyn was laughing when I tried pronouncing Chinese down the pub garden. She said "is that what you do in your room" I said "yeah at top volume" that made her laugh even more. And do an impression of a cat being strangled. Which reminds me: did you know there's a group called the Miao-Yao languages? Which made me want to go and see the Miaos in Laos. Unfortunately Laos was the original source of Double UO Globe heroin, best in the world. So I can't EVER go there...
It's 2:02am I have to go... cheerybye...
Illustrated: bluetit; baby bluetits; bluebird; Chinese ethnic Yaos
PS Miao-Yao languages are also known as the Hmong-Mien group
4 comments:
I wish you wouldn't talk about suicide. It makes me feel sad.
One of my daughter's friend used to want to kill herself.
I asked her why? She said it would be easier to be dead.
I told her, once you dead then what? You can't get out of there. Where ever you end up, you'll be stuck there--Forever.
Do you really want that?
Keep writing, Gled.
Or become a poet.
Wear your dark shades and read your poetry in the park. Then you'll be famous as the mad poet of London.
Janice~
I keep thinking of how useless I am and how worthless life is, then I try and make a joke out of it by talking of getting my roots done. I wish I didn't feel that way; maybe there are some magic pills out there?
Every day I wander about feeling like a bird with its wings clipped. I should be flying yet I'm wandering around lost on the earth. It's awful.
You just gotta get through each day, and hope that the next one might be better. All you can do is survive sometimes.
Barbara gives me goosebumps, and I love the audience in that 1975 clip, especially the couple of black fellas with the awesome afros!
Kiwigirl.
I love the old lady pensioners with witchy 60s glasses!
I wrote another post apologizing for all the suicide bollocks. It's up now
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