The Origin of JustClingingOn💗
🤍Grab your earphones 🎧 and glasses 🍷 check it out🤍
If you like your newsletters without politics or preconceptions or seeking a break from the norm you may have just found your new hangout
HELP! - I guess I meant, HELLO! Oh, oh, oh, (no!)… 💗 xoxox
This is ME looking so peaceful and content in my own demonic unphotogenic sweet little way!
This is the WIP eBook version that I think I have abandoned to concentrate on entirely on Substack
I'm Chasey Delaney, rolling into my 40's (not a euphemism for my weight or anything - if that's a thing I'd rather say 'bouncing' into them) I am unhappily enjoying being unmarried but aesthetically stuck and totally miserable at all times. Except for the slight respite from the pain of being alive, I survive alright by making sure that I am oblivious to the world outside my window. I know it's there but pretend like it isn't and wish it wasn't.
I also wish that I wasn't here or there or anywhere , especially not outside my window. Don't worry, I don't want to die not yet... not again... later maybe. One day when I'm a lot older and have a huge blue diamond to throw into the sea after making a crew of influential gold-diggers, sit through and listen to whatever turns out to be my one and only true love story!
MAYBE, one of you delicious people reading this might wish to join me later for a drink? or a dance? or even a quick shag round the back of the pub!! Ha! As anything these days, can be deemed ROMANCE to me. I half wish that I was serious. Truth be known - I'm not really a dare to do anything of the sort.
I'm afraid of annoying my own shadow, I'm scared to disrupt anything that I actually have going for me in case it turns out much worse. I like change but not chance. Which is usually the case especially when dealing with my hair. I have to wake up in the morning, examine my surroundings and simply accept that this is as good as it gets.
It is good sometimes. Most of the time. Until I realised that I'm totally infatuated with this guy who has got me totally addicted to it. Romance; and....it's not my husband. My husband isn't even my fucking husband (he's not anyone else's either! I'm not that kind of a slut!). I don't know what else to call him. My lover, my carer, the bane of my financial freedom. It's a long and boring predicament.
Fourteen years of living together with this boyfriend and now I am too old to be allowed to refer to him as that. I might try to say partner but he supersedes all that I am worth (he is way above me - we are not equal) with just one fart of his; the voice and opinions of dog's shit are much more important than me or mine.
At least that's how he sees it. I am enjoying the time I have with this man. I am enjoying the process of being quite 'content' and 'settled down' and 'stagnant' and... that's about it. I love him - but I would love him more from a distance.
What to expect from this eBook or me:
I wish I had a theme idea. Fuck! I wish I had just an idea of what these pages will contain. I have nothing of a memory to offer you stories or anecdotes and little of a brain left, after copious amounts of drugs - enough for seven girls' lives , nevermind just one - mine. I am a bit of an unabashed sniff head. I like to call myself a writer and sometimes masquerade as a Bedroom DJ. Most of all I don't know who or what the fuck I am.
I have nothing that belongs to me. My time is not mine. My life is lived for others, at a push or to be pushed into, my world is solely concentrated to just the inner world.
My door on the internal Sadhouse is opening just enough to fill a small electronic book. The one you are reading. Just before you fuck it off as a bad idea.
Remember how lucky you are to be able to form ideas and act on them. Some of us just love to love and respect your decision. Still, wouldn't it be interesting to carry on and have a further look?
Shall I talk about myself first or last - to be fair, I'd rather not. I know how annoying that can be and I'm not talking about me now. As I said "I'd rather not" that's what I'm referring to the statement, the phrase, the response to every question or direction apparently.
I'd rather not is a running theme through from a recent book recommendation. Bartleby The Scrivener. Everyone says he is weird and quirky without any explanation or back story to shed some light as to why he is like that. So he is always thought of as strange. Got me thinking about myself a bit.
If I tell my backstory will that make my own life and behaviours easier to understand!? I mean, if only I could remember what happened to me, to make me this way, then maybe I could be explained to everyone who has decided that I too am an oddball.
I am a strange one, a bit weird, loopy , mad , bad , sad, crap, shit, stupid - you name it but my most favourable name to be called is simply just a "fucking cunt".
I haven't yet read that book. I don't think I'll bother. I don't care much for people like myself. Unexplained and strange.
How much do I know about my past?
find out below 👇 the paywall is the complete version of the 13 page ebook, no bells or whistles, no holes barred. Warts and all account of my personal history and experience. Very sensitive information that I should probably never have written! I'm an honest ‘writer’ and also a messy f*ck head with immature takes on life experience, hence my decision to add the *secret section* 👇