THIS IS YOUR LIFE!💗[14-12-23]
THE BIG RED BOOK (Scrapbook Tiiiime!)🤍x
If you like your newsletters without politics or preconceptions or seeking a break from the norm you may have just found your new hangout.x
14 December 2023 -
I woke up early (because I hadn’t been to sleep - I pulled another all nighter for no reason whatsoever! other than my brain and pussy were tingling) I know already too much! I’m getting it out of the way here because only true veteran Chasers and crazy people alike will have the stomach to withstand my shite but I am inviting everyone into my BIG RED BOOK of THIS IS YOUR LIFE (Scrapbook Time!) I’m weeding out the wimps so yawn if you’re in!
ENTRANCE SONG»»»»incoming! x
Dear Chasers💗
Sitting on the cold step outside my front door this morning. Bracing myself against the wind coming in from the left hand side and avoiding sharp splashes of light rain like little needle daggers on my exposed hands. All this to fill my lungs with smoke and regain some equilibrium. I hate the smell and taste it leaves in my mouth. My non-smoking partner won’t let me touch him at all after I have just had a cigarette. Not that I really want to start touching! But he thinks he came come strolling at me naked anytime and expect me to his dick when he presents it to me like this…!
He just thinks I am completely contaminated after I’ve smoked and I do get it. I know how he feels too. Been there myself. I am enjoying the internal removal of bad vibes from my mind which has not long since woken from dreams of wanting something that I cannot fathom or reach. Almost forgetting the depression that creeped up on me in the depths of the night. The worries of where I might next get food to eat, the stress of what-ifs when it comes to him thinking about drinking again.
All these thoughts and feelings slip away in the subconscious again and I start daydreaming. This time with plans of things to say and write and do today. I am hopeful and aware of possibilities that may go my way. I look around me and inhale the misty air before returning back to my reveries and smoking.I watch the unusual gathering of pigeons all having a communal munch on a couple of leftover crusts of pizza.
They seem to be cooperating with each other in the hunger games. Dancing back and forth over each slice like a troupe of ribbon baring majorettes. How jovial they are in their light-footed jumping back and forth in seemingly synchronised routine. So different in attitude than the birds I usually see down by the centre of Piccadilly Gardens.
Those pigeons are built from rougher stuff and even I wouldn’t put up a fight for a slice of crust against any of those toughened nuts. They wouldn’t dance together either no matter how eager to eat, most of them having deformed feet and broken wings; with missing eyes and chips on their shoulders. Even the odd starving seagull tends to creep up and proceeds with caution. I remember times when I related my own experience when creeping with caution or spitting with annoyance during difficult conversations at home. I penned an abstract poem along those lines and a lovely comment came in about how I had managed to capture the essence of the mundane (or something similar). Looking back on the post now, I haven’t a clue what I was even attempting to convey back on the 27 May 2023, those were the days when poetry dominated my bag. See for yourself how f**Ked up my voice is in the screenshot below.
This is the section where I will be walking you through every possible productive thing
I have been going through a few chores, hobbies, errands to help pass the time. Trying to be as productive as a person like me wants to be. Not very.
“ Just Because You’re Constantly Busy Doesn’t Mean You’re Being Productive “ A quote by someone Unknown (to me)
As always, I say knowing this is the first time you’ll be hearing me say it, I will chat to you a bit about my kind of lifestyle so as not to surprise you if for whatever reason, you may realise that my idea of productivity and yours are probably worlds apart and completely different.
I’ve set myself up for a fall already. First with that word thorough because I find it difficult to pronounce and secondly, starting with the biggest, most thorough task of updating you on my productivity of late. That in itself doesn’t sound sustainable! Let me explain what I actually mean by ‘productivity’ in my world.
A bit of something to remember is that I am a self-made house hermit. I prefer to stay home most if not all of the time.
Well, this was supposed to be a thorough productivity update however, it’s turned into something… else. I seem to be chasing myself around in circles mentally speaking. So I am just going to let you watch my ebb and flow to follow my mind and its workings.
As they actually unfold… let’s go!
Places I have been.
I went to the library and was surprised to see a huge Santa Claus returning to the square outside the building and almost as tall. I didn’t have my phone with me to take my own photos, which was a shame so I’ve took the liberty of stealing a copy of some from the local newspaper’s website Manchester Evening News
Books I have been reading.
I am just under halfway through reading a book that I own and have had for a few years now. It’s Haruki Murakami’s Dance, Dance, Dance. I love it and have taken many notes from it and written them down in my journal. It’s hard to believe it was published in the 70’s or 80's. It reads like a dream and is right up my street. I’ve talked about my indifference towards his most popular book, Norwegian Wood in the past so won’t bang on about it again here. I’ll just leave a little Beatles video here as a nod to the author and because I quite like the song too…
I picked up a good selection of books from the library and the first one I have spent some time reading is the biography of Lotte Moos who was a prolific storyteller, writer, activist, suspected spy, ex-prisoner, eighty year old active Poet and in her own words, a “lifelong refugee”. Written by her friend and publisher, David Perman. It looked accessible as well as intellectual. Almost Inviting me to try and break out of my easy-mode mold and try it.
Since reading the first two chapters, I have put the book back in my bag to be returned. I guess it was a bit too soon or too late whichever way you look at life, for me to change my reading ways. (I just didn’t like it..) I got bored a the amount of names and places being talked about, I counted 8 names on one page alone! There was little narrative and mostly what reminds me of stats.
I have however been very productive and joined another library. I was going to take a photo of this library but spotted a very ‘shiny’ view!
Christmas Updates
Obsessional Musings
It’s back. It’s there again. My love for wanting something that is not right for me at all. I keep asking myself what am I doing to myself and where is this thing in me going? How can I love danger and complexity and a life beyond my capabilities of even wanting. I hate everything about that situation but the universe is driving me forward and back to this same distraction. I ask myself what is it that I want from that? I don’t want that at all. I love that. I want to touch and hold and love and….
I have everything that I want and need and love but I can’t switch it off and I even accuse the universe of doing this to us. I don’t take well to dares or tests or games but I follow my feelings and trust nobody not even myself. I trust myself to not let go of what I am able to carry up that fucking hill. He must think it’s a trick or a game. Love is a Losing Game!
Then one day I might not see those eyes again. I hate that voice that won’t speak to me. That kindness is reserved for anybody. Randoms and nobodies. I am special. I am the one. The one who would fuck that life up. I am rambling on and on and on. It’s fair to say that I am in control which actually fucks me up the most. I can’t blame limerence or delusion or anything at all. I know with every piece of me I’d get no peace I wouldn’t be me. I hate the way he hurts me without trying. My absence is a luxury and he’s buying. I don’t even like what I am begging and hoping, wishing, praying to like me. I love with no explanation and only hate the parts of it that I can see - my everything is based on love and that is why they say love is blind. Not because, we close our eyes to fault, because we open them wide and see every single silver hair that floats, every crease in the face and crinkle in brow, every eye roll ever fat flabby arsecheek and we know…. This incredible burning in my soul goes weak to not know where to offload all these incredible emotions. I need to love this man. Ok, it’s a man that I am banging on about. I have a fascination with someone that I can only add up on both feet and both hands and not touch a fraction of the amount of wrongs for me, more than none which are right for me. Turn off(s) a plenty but they don't deter and for some reason I only love more. I want them to love me but to what end would that be me. I am going nowhere. I am happy and the me who I wouldn’t be on being with them incomplete. He doesn’t know or like me at all but plays two faced like a brick fucking wall. I could handle it all if only I knew that he wasn’t brave facing and might like me too. I am not a magician but have created an illusion and feel in my bones (which cannot be trusted) that I got to love this.
It’s like sitting outside a closed door. Locked in a cage being told it’s for my behaviour and more so that if I stop what I’ve done I might be allowed out or let in or something but my brain doesn’t register. I love harder and harder than ever before. I’m not stupid - I’m sore. I know there is nothing that I can do or have done that would make him come and want and love me some. I knew that he wasn’t afraid to lose me completely, just wanted me to disappear quietly after telling me I could do as I pleased, the equivalent to a lunatic out on day release! I want him to want me and I’m trying to work out why that is? I don’t wish him the hurt that love causes and the funny thing is; he is in exactly the same position, on the other side of the fence, he is wanting someone or something that does to him what he does to me. Hurt people hurt people - that’s the phrase they say. Sense tells me I am only hurting myself but I disagree because if I could choose who I fall in love with it wouldn’t be him. Everything is leading me this way. He isn’t even thinking anything, just living his regular day. Fucking his life away which is far more constructive to mine. He has a repertoire whereas I have none. I am all for settling down and digging a grave to lay in creating and mating - all before I die. He is living life like a rockstar on a false ego trip high only there is nothing fake or faux or fault to this man’s soul flying high. I wish he wasn’t real. I wish he could just try and love me one day as I want him to and maybe end this phase and case of wanting or whatever the fuck it is that I have because I truely believe in - the chase is better than the catch. xxxxxxx
Heart-Fucking, gem of a track for our EXIT SONG:
Thank you for being here with me and flicking through my BIG RED BOOK of THIS IS YOUR LIFE size and duration…x! BIG soft Warm HUGS Lots of Love from ME..xxx💗
