Diary of bi-polar, manic depressive.

22 nd July

2007-07-22T09:03:00.000+01:00

22/07/2007
07:10
Old man looked a little better yesterday, he has a bit of colour back in his face, almost normal.
He was in a helluva lot of pain and having problems with the site where they had took the vein out.
As usual he was making a meal out of it.

He’s off the nebuliser now, just on the oxygen up his nose to get his levels back to normal.
The physiotherapist came round told him to do his breathing exercises each hour and she would be getting him on his feet today.
He said they would be discharging him, possibly Tuesday, but you cannot take everything he says as being true because he is still “doped up.”
Hope he does get out soon because all this visiting is getting to be a drag.
I can hardly walk again this morning with lower back pain.

I called into club when I got home yesterday, had a couple of bottles and then bought half a gallon of cheapo cider, had a couple of drinks and had an early night.

Better day, today weather wise, early morning sunshine and a misty sky.
Am getting a little pissed off with windows defender, insists on informing me every time the radio station plays a new track!

I’ve changed my listening to big band; hopefully will inspire me to get keyboards out some time this week.
Neighbour braying on wall! Hell the bloody kettle is making more noise than the sounds!
I’m sat on the crapper and he’s braying on the wall.
Made my cuppa and changed sounds to chill out.

Have had to alter mail account to access windows live mail or whatever its called,
I have no access to old e. mail account and therefore have lost all material I had in folders and contacts.
Annoyed.

21 st July.

2007-07-21T11:24:00.000+01:00

21/07/2007
09:30
Went to hospital yesterday!
Old man looked like a f*****g corpse.
White as a ghost, desperately trying to get the oxygen down him, hardly able to speak, his body twitching with pain.
He was laid there for an hour or so , clutching his chest trying not to move, poor bugger looked rough!
Nurses came and pestered him then decided he should get out of bed.
We left the ward for a couple of minutes while they manhandled him into a chair.
There he sat, as pale as a sheet of paper, rather neat scar running down his chest, eyes streaming, trying to speak with oxygen mask over mouth and nose.

I must admit I turned right off, just stuck my nose into an edition of Private Eye, and sat in an uncomfortable chair for two hours leaving my mother to administer drinks of water to him when he requested it.

I suppose I should marvel at the fact that he was A) alive and B) able to be sat in a chair 24 hours after a major op.

I don’t think either of us was ready for him looking so rough.
The focus for me was the seemingly angry look in his eyes.

The ward was full and I had very little room to place my chair, as a consequence I spent two hours cramped in an uncomfortable chair, then a slow drive home through traffic mainly composed of workers wending their way home.

Resulting in me being in agony this morning from lower back pain.I’m o.k. while sat reclined in chair but walking or bending brings pain with every movement.
Have taken a couple of Diclofenac Sodium but don’t hold out too much hope for any relief.

The weather today is as expected shit!
Heavy rain laden clouds dominate the sky, and it’s bloody cold.

Has seeing the old man had any effect on me?
May have done if he had been a smoker, it does however show me something I’d rather not go through, if at all possible.

Last night after returning from the hospital I smoked the last of my baccy and have so far resisted the temptation to go to shop and buy some.

Looking on the bright side, he has had his op and we now have to simply wait for him to be sent home.
Another week should see him home.
Which reminds me I have his garden to look after starting with picking the bean harvest tomorrow.
Hope this pain eases!

Still unable to access my mail, have signed up for new mail service, windows live hotmail; good job I don’t rely on e. mails

20 th July.

2007-07-20T10:38:00.000+01:00

Friday, 20 July 2007

Received a phone call from the hospital last night telling me the old man was out of theatre and in I.C.U.
Was nice of them to call and put me at ease.
Received another call shortly after from a mate of mine, obviously drunk, first contact in nearly two years so I jumped in car and went to see him.

He was well wrecked and feeling?
I thought he may want to talk but no he was in the mood to party.
We listened to Doctor john, watched a DVD of Clapton, and invited guests;
he was up dancing, air guitaring, and generally exhibiting high spirits, no doubt fuelled by the spirits he was drinking.
Talking was out of the question, made a pleasant change listening to sounds on a decent system, good amp and Bose speakers.
I have never liked playing catch up with drunks so I couldn’t get anywhere near the mood he was in.

I eventually had to make excuses and returned home with a splitting headache, brought on by watching Whitesnake concert, sure sign I’ve got old!

Safely home I went straight to bed and crashed till four in the morning, quick drink of health salts, smoke, and back to bed till the respectable time of nine a.m.

I’m a little worried about Ash, by the looks of his refuse bag he has been hitting the drink quite heavily, cans of lager filled two carrier bags.
He was drunk enough to smash a couple of glasses and when I left he had all but passed out.
I hadn’t been much help except for buying him a further dozen cans; I’ll call it an early birthday present.
Apparently his daughter and her mother( that’s the terminology he used) are coming over to visit him for his birthday, perhaps he is worried, hell I ain’t going to waste time guessing.

What frightened me most about his behaviour was the fact that I saw myself in his actions.
He was hyperactive.

His flat looks excellent, floor to ceiling CD’s. DVDs and vinyl.
One of his plants has grown into a tree and occupies a corner of the room, looks very impressive if a little overbearing.

The council has put iron fencing along the front of the houses providing a safe lawned area for the children to play in safety, apart from that little has changed since I lived there some ten years or more ago.
The area still depresses me whenever I revisit.
I was glad to be home.

Weather today has returned to the normal grey, dull, uninspiring norm.
I have a couple of hours housework to do to get the flat tidy but hell got all the time in the world to do it so no problem.

E. Mail is still unavailable for some reason which I’m unable to figure out.
Also am unable to open sites from favourites I’d earmarked for blog inclusion.

Full test has just completed and no apparent problems, so don’t know what’s wrong with system now.

Is Britain ready for the anticipated flood of ducks?
Read more at.
http://news.sky.com/skynews/article/0,,30100-1272814,00.html?f=rss
We’ve all seen the more risky extreme pursuits of adventure seekers, jumping of buildings etc but this must be the ultimate adrenalin rush.
Diving from space!
http://blog.scifi.com/tech/archives/2007/06/26/diving_from_spa.html

40 Gbs, that is some connection speed!
Read more.
http://www.tech.co.uk/computing/internet-and-broadband/news/75-year-old-woman-has-fastest-broadband?articleid=1857379299

A man and his wife were getting ready for bed.
The wife is standing in front of a full-length mirror taking a hard look at herself.
"You know, dear," she says, "I look in the mirror, and I see an old woman.
My face is all wrinkled, my boobs are barely above my waist, and my butt is hanging out a mile. I've got fat legs, and my arms are all flabby."
She turns to him and says,
"Tell me something positive to make me feel better about myself."
He studies hard for a moment thinking about it and then says in a soft, thoughtful voice,
"Well, there's nothing wrong with your eyesight."

Services for him will be held Saturday morning at 10:30. Female friends of the family are invited.
Don’t try the above at home folks!

A women was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected a quart of 2% milk,
a carton of eggs, a quart of orange juice, a head of romaine lettuce,
a 2 lb. can of coffee and a 1 lb. package of bacon.
As she was unloading her items on the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind her watched as she placed the items in front of the cashier.
He said, "You must be single."
The women, a bit startled but intrigued by the derelict's intuition, looked at her six items on the belt.
Seeing nothing particularly unusual about her selections she said,
"Well, you know what, you're absolutely correct. But how on earth did you know that?"
The drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."
Couldn’t resist that one!

Here’s a question which is the hotter, heaven or hell?
Here’s one answer.
http://www.greatplay.net/uselessia/articles/heavenhhell.html

Talking of heaven and hell, here’s an interesting piece on the cultivation of Hemp and its apparent usefulness as an alternative to using trees.
http://www.newfarm.org/international/canada_don/manitoba/index.shtml

A question nearer to home,
How come when you get down to the last half inch of powdered milk it no longer works?
Just produces a sludge in the bottom of the cup, no colouring effect whatsoever.
Have had to go to local shop for fresh milk.
The coloured family who recently took over the shop have finished their
re-modelling of the shop and have produced a more efficient lay out than the previous coloured owner.
I cannot keep using the word coloured.
The shop is known as the paki shop and will always be.

Makes a pleasant change to be greeted with hello and having someone say good-bye once they have relieved you of your money, very polite.

I now have a pint of liquid which resembles tea even though it has very little taste.
I took the opportunity to carry the two large bags of clothing out of the car into the flat.
I now have several shirts, jumpers, shorts and a dozen handkerchiefs,
All collected because of my old man cleaning his wardrobe out.

I bet he’s feeling dog rough this morning!
I picture him laid in bed clutching a pillow to his chest as he tries to cough up the phlegm from the op.
Not a pretty picture.

I had set my mind on stopping smoking on the day of his op and there is very little baccy left in the pouch.
My neighbour has kindly posted three editions of Private Eye through the door which will give me something to read during today’s visit.
I’d spent the last two weeks catching up on back issues of Computer Active which had laid unread for several months.
Well timed indeed.

Today I have to give myself a shake, get stuck into the housework, and get myself back on track.
I have had my little session on the booze, having demolished two litres of whisky in the last two weeks.
I tried a couple of beers but the prospect of having to sit outside to have a smoke and a drink has led me to give it up.

My old man will be in dock for at least another week so I have plenty of time to get back to” normal”, if my life is ever normal.

19 th July.

2007-07-19T09:26:00.000+01:00

19/07/2007
07:37
Plan B was working yesterday; I was in bed for 3.30.
Woken up by telephone. 8.30.
Mother saying op had been cancelled yet again and could we go and see him at 10.
My head was in bits, I didn’t know if it was 8.30 in the morning or night.
She informed me it was nighttime and apologised for waking me up.
I stopped up for a couple of hours and returned to bed to awaken this fine morning.

Not a bad kip, took my mind off everything.
Hazy blue sky and weak sun.
I’ve had a look at the front garden and conditions are right to dig up remainder of grass, may get it done before hospital visit, will see.

Talking of grass, I see the government is once again set to fanny about with Cannabis.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/6904547.stm
How come every piece of news regarding cannabis strays off the mark to mention hard drugs, yet doesn’t mention the findings that cannabis is less harmful than alcohol.
They talk of stronger strains, good quality skunk, i.e. Sensi has been around for decades. The majority of street cannabis is still of poor quality because it has been mixed so much, often with harmful ingredients.

Cannabis use is so wide spread and the dealer network so well established that any change in classification will not make one iota of difference.
The cost of many street deals has risen over the past few years, but Gordon will be aware from his experiment in raising prices for cigarettes, increasing prices doesn’t result in fewer people smoking, in fact I seem to recall seeing figures that the smoking of normal cigarettes still appears to be rising.

The Americans have thrown billions of dollars at trying to stamp out Cannabis use, to no avail.
I’m surmising that people who smoke cigs and Cannabis will be choosing to stick to their poison and shun the pubs and clubs in favour of smoking at home, with or without cheap supplies of alcohol from the supermarket.

Cannabis use is similar to the prohibition years; he will never make any inroads into its use.

The pubs and clubs are no longer safe places to enjoy a drink, the young ones who prefer to spend huge amounts of money on drink to get legless have taken over from the social drinker of the past.
The idea of spending £60 or more on alcohol on a single session is totally alien to me, also unaffordable to most people.
We therefore choose to spend perhaps a tenner on a deal and have a quiet time behind closed doors.
True we contribute nothing in the way of taxes to the treasury, but we do not become a burden on the local A+E departments of our hospitals.

Since the relaxation of the drinking laws, any authorities have seen an increase in alcohol related admissions.
The government says it is concerned for the welfare of the younger generation,
If this is true then tackle the growing problem of youngsters abusing alcohol.
Too many parents allow their children to drink, yet punish cannabis use.
In other cases many youngsters see their parents habitually getting drunk and follow in their footsteps.

The main problem with youngsters today is drinking and anti social behaviour, the two go together.
Raise the age for drinking to 21, after all we follow the lead of the Americans in everything else.
We talk about the growing problem of obesity in our children yet supply high streets full of junk food outlets.
Children are often found to be drunk in possession of bottles of booze.
Have the bottles stamped thus providing evidence of the supply and prosecute heavily the off licences who are undoubtedly selling, knowingly to these children.

It is a crime to be drunk, not just drunk and disorderly but simply drunk.
Lets see more prosecutions.

Possession of Cannabis should be penalised in public; most sensible smokers use cannabis behind closed doors lets keep it that way.

When oh when will the government focus on the health issue, cannabis can be used in many conditions, spend the money on researching the medicinal properties and lets have a medicine more effective than aspirin on the list of prescription drugs.

As for hard drugs, keep them a separate issue.
For years they tried to say cannabis was a gateway drug, no it isn’t.
They say it has links with mental health, no it hasn’t. The person would probably go on to exhibit mental problems with or without using the drug.

Cannabis has its own built in safety device, if one smokes the stronger strains it simply means less is ingested before the smoker becomes stoned, if too much is smoked then the smoker will go to sleep.
Unlike alcohol which can result in death if too much is consumed.

Alcohol consumption is a problem and it is getting worse, the effects of drinking can be seen every day and night in our hospitals.

I also hate the way the media reports of youngsters claiming Cannabis use has set them on the road to ruin, they’ve only had a few sessions on it and claim it has done all sorts of fucking things to them.
Heavy cannabis use would cost approximately £100 per week; these kids are struggling to afford a bottle of vodka on the weekend so they have little chance of being able to get their mitts on sufficient cannabis to pose a problem

Cannabis use and misinformation go hand in hand as far as the government is concerned.

I see an ever growing section of society which is choosing to forsake the social drinking in favour of homemade entertainment.
We have the technology to allow us to remain at home, watch films, listen to music, surf the Internet.
There’s no need to go to the pub, put up with shabby service and surroundings, run the risk of personal injury from being attacked by drunken louts.
The majority of sensible smokers will remain indoors, preferring the safety and comfort of their own homes.
This trend will grow, possibly more rapidly than the government would ever imagine.

The major problem with cannabis is the use of tobacco to release the ingredients.
If more research was funded to manufacture a tablet harnessing the pain killing benefits of the drug, I’m sure some of the backstreet chemists would come up with tablet form of the mood enhancing properties, rendering smoking as a poor option.
The use of vaporisers may lead a lot of smokers away from the dependence on tobacco.
Because lets not forget that in terms of dependency there are few chemicals more potent the Nicotine itself.

We have alcohol; a major cause of concern, poses problems in all walks of life, puts strain on the hospital services, and causes much grief in society.
We have Nicotine, a very addictive substance which causes serious health problems, and once again puts strain on the N.H.S. services.
Yet both of the above are legal and socially acceptable.

The cannabis smoker has remained in the background, alienated, bad pressed for decades.
There are millions of users yet few deaths which can be directly linked to its use.
The drug undoubtedly has medicinal value in certain cases yet its powers hasn’t been accepted and used by the medical fraternity because of its status as being illegal.
Making the drug legal or illegal, changing its ranking, reclassifying it will not make any difference to its use.
Cannabis will always be in supply and users will always continue to choose it over alcohol or indeed the many other drug options.

True the price of street cannabis has risen over the last few years but no way as much as the price hikes of alcohol, therefore it will remain a viable alternative, and as such will continue to grow in popularity regardless of what the fannies in office decide to do.

Drinking is the problem which faces the country not cannabis smoking.
Nicotine addiction is costing the taxpayer millions, putting tremendous strain on our health services, not cannabis smoking.

The licensing trade will soon begin to notice the effects of the no smoking ban,
They know full well the trade will fall, expected to reduce by millions of pints each year.
Not all the pubs can be turned into eating-places.

I for one would rather see a youngster sat on a park bench with glassy eyes then laid in a pool of vomit choking to death.
I would rather see the more mature smokers return to the old time get togethers in someone’s’ home listening to music or being creative with a computer or taking advantage of the vast range of in house entertainment available, simply chilling.
The culture and technology of today will no doubt drive people to remain indoors where they feel safe and Cannabis is the perfect accompaniment for any activities, therefore its use is set to increase.

The drug trade is a huge business, many small countries rely upon its continuation, and therefore the supply will never be stopped.
Criminals will always see it as the easy option to making money thus ensuring whatever controls are set in motion will be bypassed.
The similarity between attempted curtailment and the battle against alcohol use by prohibition is becoming more pertinent.
It is a battle which cannot be won by any power.

Random drug testing is not the answer because of the very nature of the drug, it remains in the blood stream for a lot longer than certain class A drugs and alcohol and therefore is unusable by anyone who fears for their jobs.
At the same time testing could be seen as making certain sections opt for the higher-class drugs knowing they can escape detection.

We have been told that smuggled tobacco can be three or four times as harmful to a smoker because of the ingredients, the same goes for cannabis, the more the government tries to squeeze the trade the more dealers will adulterate the deals with harmful packing materials.

If the government wants anyone to take any notice of any plans they have they will have to treat cannabis on its own merits and stop mentioning it as a way of introducing control on harder drugs.

I will choose home-grown anytime over solid because I have more knowledge of what is in the deal, i.e. there is less likelihood of harmful packing materials being used to bulk it up.
We are all aware that there are stronger strains available but that simply menas we use less, no brainer.

We are all aware that there are stronger strains available but that simply means we use less, no brainer.
While today's pot is stronger than that of a few decades ago (from about three percent up to around 10 percent in rare high-grade pot),
The increase is hardly dramatic.
According to a report from the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML), "studies indicate that marijuana smokers distinguish between high and low potency marijuana and moderate their use accordingly,
Just as an alcohol consumer would drink fewer ounces of (high potency) bourbon than they would of (low potency) beer."
It also should be pointed out that not one single fatal marijuana overdose has been recorded in human history.
And the stronger the pot, the less you have to smoke to get the desired effect.

Marijuana use clearly reduces short-term memory recall, decreases cognitive reaction time, and makes people, well, stoned.
Meaning, don't get baked before class or else you won't learn much.
But no evidence of pot use inducing brain damage was presented,
Because no conclusive scientific evidence actually exists.

http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=267461

Been in to see the old man, he’s all psyched up, doped up, and gowned ready for an op about three.
I hope he gets it today!
He’s bricking it but trying not to show.
Hopefully tomorrow he will have had his op, done his time in I.C. and be back on the ward.
I’ll have done nearly 1,000 miles driving to visit him by the time he gets out.

From 20 July, firearms officers will be able to use tasers if they face severe violence or threats and need to use force to protect the public, themselves, or the suspect.
Tasers will also be available to police in specialist units, including tactical support teams and drugs squads.

In October last year, Brian Loan, 47, of County Durham, died after being shot by a Taser, but a post mortem examination found that he died of natural causes.
Yeah!
What’s it like to be tasered?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6661617.stm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/oxfordshire/6906437.stm
Not a nice way to end a long life. 94-year-old woman burnt.

We may live in one of the depressed areas but some trades are prospering.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/tees/6906224.stm
Police discover heroin with a street value of £1m and £100,000 in cash after raiding a house on Teesside.

18 th July.

2007-07-18T09:48:00.001+01:00

18/07/2007
08:17
Had a good sleep; needed it because I was aching like hell.
When I went to bed I was unsure if I’d be able to get over, hence me taking the tablet, but I fell asleep almost immediately, love it when plan comes together.

Hadn’t done a lot of work in garden, but using the push hoe was enough to give pain.
Father was talking about giving up his garden, I know he doesn’t mean it, he’s just depressed.
I’ll do my best to get it ready for when he gets out.

We are going in to see pa this morning, I hope he will be in a more relaxed mood.
I don’t think the staff realised how agitated he had become with all the uncertainty of the situation.

He is obviously afraid and I will have to control myself today, not mention wills, or anything to do with death!
He is going to be around for a good few years more.
He said that if he was in hospital much longer they would stop his pension,
I told him if he didn’t come out of theatre he wouldn’t be needing it!
Probably not the best timed quip.

The weather is dry, clouds are motionless in the blue sky, as yet the sun hasn’t come out, but at least we are having a break from the rain.
With a bit of luck I’ll get the support rigged up for the clematis.

I will either get stuck into flat and do a good job of returning it to a tidy, organised state or,
Have a couple of whiskies and relax.
At the
moment, the second option seems favourite.

May seem a daft choice but if the old man is going to be out of it for most of the afternoon I think I’ll join him!

The white clouds have become grey and the blue sky is slowly disappearing, looks like going to be a dull overcast day.
Going to be a long day for both ma and me.

I suppose as any operation becomes common, one tends to play down the seriousness of it.
The hospital has a good success rate, the old man is fit enough in that he has never smoked and only drinks in moderation, unlike myself!
He has the odds stacked in his favour and I shouldn’t be worried,
But one cannot forget it is an op on one of his vital organs and therefore cannot be risk free.

I had pledged to quit smoking on the day of his op,
So am looking at possibility of this packet of baccy being the last.
After all if I was to be taken into hospital for another heart op, my chances of survival would be well low.

The sky looks heavy with rain clouds.

In my mind, I know I am worried for him, but there doesn’t seem to any distinct feeling, emotion etc.
I just feel heavy like the sky, when I get the news that he has come through it o.k. I will be able to relax, but until then I will rely on good old-fashioned intoxication and sleep to pass the time.
If I was religious I may be tempted to offer up a prayer,
I think I’ll just put my faith in the surgeons and hope for the best.
Time to go.

I was just getting ready to go,
Phone rang.
Jeans around knees, jumper half on, I struggled across the room to answer.
Ma informs me pa has just rang, they are preparing him so he doesn’t want us to bother coming in after all.
So there’s two bacon sarnies waiting for me, will have them tomorrow I tell ma.

She doesn’t sound too bad, apparently father is pleased everything is beginning to happen.
She tells me she will phone when any news, I tell her not to worry if I’m unavailable.

Plan B swings into action and I’m sat with whisky, lemonade and ice.
http://pinguy.infogami.com/blog/vwm6
Paste the above if all seems well with your world.

The above may be distressing to some so here’s something to counteract.
http://www.oddee.com/item_87332.aspx

Nothing as strange as fact.
http://www.neatorama.com/2007/05/21/the-strangest-disaster-of-the-20th-century/

17 th July.

2007-07-17T09:13:00.000+01:00

17/07/2007
07:55.
Not a bad night’s sleep went to bed early, 10 ish.
Blue skies this morning but a chilly breeze, sun is struggling.

I’ve got a pain in my left leg just below the knee, may try and walk it off by going into the village; need some plant food.

Tinnitus is screaming in my right ear this morning, way above volume of radio station! Bloody annoying.

Am in a strange mood today, feel? Uneasy,lethargic,unresolved as to what to do.
Tried to log onto course work but trouble with password so fuck it, am not in mood for hassle.

I suppose in the back of my mind I’m annoyed; I’d been promised some gear this week, last weekend in fact.
I thought a couple of joints would help me relax and help me cope with the daily visiting etc. but no gear has shown and I have avoided getting in a bottle.

Am getting a bit pissed of with word document, it used to scroll upon demand and now I have to insert break to adjust it.
No idea how to get full scrolling option back.

So this week,
I’ve managed to get the computer working at optimum speed, installed a reliable security system, one which I am familiar with.

Car has been fixed resulting in a more efficient, smooth engine performance, eliminating the possibility of problems with the next M.O.T.

Tidied the flat up to an acceptable level,

Had a bit of luck on the lottery.

Taken a little exercise.

Weeded garden and planted last of this year’s flowers.

Managed yet another week of hospital visits without falling out with parents or feeling resentment.
Sun begins to break through and looks quite pleasant outside, even though the chill of the breeze can be felt through the open windows.
I left the fan on and all the windows open when I went to bed last night in an attempt to eradicate the smell of tobacco.

I’ve taken another Zyban this morning, leaving two to take.
I had planned to stop smoking the day of father’s op; due to the postponement I have an extra day’s smoking.
I had expected to be enjoying some joints this week but if nothing arrives tonight I suspect I will have to refuse it.
Although I am tempted to get some and just have a break smoking joints only, could do with a break after all this travelling to and from the hospital.

“Go slowly as you explore the shadows of your life.”
You cannot make a man by standing a sheep on its hind legs.
But by standing a flock of sheep in that position you can make a crowd of men. - Max Beerbohm

Remember its o.k. to be a sheep, if you are a cool sheep!

81 percent of the lemons grown in the U.S. are used for the manufacturing of lemonade.
The remaining 19% Vote.

I was going to have a walk into the village but after looking at the ten-day forecast I decided it would be a good day to do some gardening.
I went to my parents and had a hour and a half in the garden with the hoe, just tidied it up a bit and got rid of weeds, mainly willow herb, before they had chance to set seed.
The early potatoes are ready for lifting, beans are almost ready for picking, possibly this weekend.
Peas are disappointing, plenty of pods but slow to fill out.
I finished about one, had my dinner and a warm bath, then lay on the sofa for three quarters of n hour; I was knackered.

Father’s been clearing out his wardrobe and my old bed is covered in piles of clothes, I filled two large bags and put them in the car and we set off for the hospital.

Father was in an agitated mood; he still hasn’t been given a definite date and was on tenderhooks.
During the visit his surgeon put in an appearance and said,
” The rumble in the jungle is that he may have his op some time this week,”
Didn’t do much to put father at ease!

Even though he is putting a brave face on I could tell he was becoming angry.
I had a few words with the nurses along the lines of,
“Can’t you get him into theatre, he is driving us crazy”.

I dropped ma off at home and returned home, called in supermarket, cashed my winning lottery tickets and treated myself to a litre of teachers and a couple of bottles of lemonade.
Called into club had a couple of Newcastles, received a phone call.
Father is to have his op tomorrow for definite.

I went home had a couple of enjoyable whiskies, watched tv till 9.30 , took a Zyprexa and went to bed.

16 th july

2007-07-16T07:51:00.000+01:00

16/07/2007
05:47.Yesterday when at the hospital I parked with the front of the car up on a kerb.
When we left the grounds I remarked to my mother,
That “the exhaust sounds a bit rough,”
Sure enough, a half mile further along the road and it broke into full voice; was like driving a tractor all the way home, exhaust blowing, power down, helluva racket!
I managed to get it home. It was pouring with rain so I had no chance to check the damage, just parked up, and hoped for the best.
There is an exhaust centre in the village, only a mile or so from where I live so I planned to take it in early in the morning.

Knowing how erratic my sleep patterns are I set the alarm for eight and placed the clock under the pillow on the bed.
Took some getting to sleep but about midnight I must have dozed off.
Was having a brilliant sexual dream this morning which all too soon turned into a nightmare as my wedding tackle came under attack from two Dobermans belonging to the woman’s husband.
(Probably a moral in there somewhere, warning at very least!).
Of course I was fully awake, had a rollie to calm my nerves, and went to toilet to relieve myself.
I knew it was early morning but when I went back to bed was unable to relax enough to bring sleep back on.
5 a.m!
I laid in bed listening to my throat crackling, wheezing as I breathed in and out.
That one rollie had brought back the wheezing, I decided then that I would try and stick to the plan of giving up tomorrow,(day of father’s op).
I have 4 Zyban left, two for today and two for tomorrow, after that I will have to rely upon willpower.

The other day my father accompanied us as far as the lift after visiting,
We stopped along the way next to an electronic weighing machine,
“Jump on,” he said, and I duly obeyed.
16 fucking stone four! I was gobsmacked.
I’ve gone from 13 stone 7 to 16 stone 4 since leaving hospital.
That is a lot of weight to put on.
I know the Zyprexa is known to cause significant weight gain but nearly three stone!
The alarm bells were ringing.
I don’t eat cakes, sweets, and very little chocolate.
Meals are good quality beef, steak, chicken, and veg.
True I may get through three packets of biscuits in a month but apart from that I do not eat rubbish.

So not only do I have to quit smoking after piling on a lot of weight I have to re think my life style.

I seldom have breakfast, or dinner come to think of it, generally having first food of day at teatime followed by a snack before bedtime.

That sentence says it all; I eat at the wrong time of day.
I also have days when I do not eat at all, which will make matters worse.
I eat nowhere near the 2,000 calories per day, my thinking being, that if I don’t take the calories in then the body must use the reserves.
Obviously that plan isn’t working.

I did read somewhere that if the food intake is erratic the body panics and transforms any food immediately into fat to tide it over until the next intake.
I think that may have happened to me.

Once again the faults of my lifestyle come down to lack of management and routine.

Plus of course there is the complete absence of any exercise regime!
It’s therefore of my own doing.

I now know what has to be done, just have to set the wheels in motion.

Lately over the past six weeks or so I have noticed the computer getting slower and slower.
At about the time I was getting bombarded with demands to renew the subscription to Norton, ( I was under the impression I’d bought a full package)
I had a Trojan infection and was directed to several sites offering assistance,
If of course I paid for the service.
I refused all help.
When I tried to use Norton go back, I couldn’t, and of course there were no System restore points available either.

Angry and annoyed I deleted all traces of Norton and reverted to using the good old AVG.
True it may be a little keen with daily scans but the results showed only one infected file. Misdirect.app.
This was quarantined.
The computer was still slow, taking minutes to switch off each day, bloody annoying when you are waiting to go out but want to turn the power off first!

I looked several times at the start up menu but couldn’t honestly choose programs to disable, in my opinion it was at optimum already.
I received an offer to join Microsoft spy program and accepted, at the same time after rejecting programs called PC Doctor and pro plus I found Defender installed.
It sat there in the tray for a week or more.
Last night I checked for updates both for the system and for defender and was unable to access the update site.
I was going to get rid of the defender but after following a link explaining error message, I followed some instructions.

I was told to locate a file and rename it, I found what I considered to be the file, but there was no way I could rename it.
I was going to give up but continued to read the instructions regarding the second part.
I went into Explorer found a file and renamed it .old
Not expecting success I returned to the update site and surprising enough was able to access.
Following a quick scan five downloads were offered, one included a malicious program removal tool, the others were security updates.
They downloaded and seemed to install but when I checked four had in fact failed to install.

Normally I would have given up but I was in the mood to persevere so I initiated another scan and agreed the download and on the second attempt all updates were installed correctly.
I forget the technical jargon but it was replacing the current database with a new one which was to grow independently.
It’s all explained in the error message explanation.
Restart was required, obviously.
I checked on history and the affected files had been removed, all seemed o.k.

Result is; machine has returned to speed I would expect, everything is much faster, start up and close, reboot takes seconds and programs are opening in mseconds rather than seconds.
My only problem now is getting into Blogger, I enter details but the screen flashes on and off while attempting to load dashboard.
The only way I have been able to get in is to constantly click on claim old account while screen flashes.
Enter details on stable screen and request e. mail to verify new password and enter via link provided in mail.
Have been doing this on a daily basis for some time now.

Even remembered to set a new restore point, and was pleased to notice there are several options available.

The early morning mist has cleared a little and a weak sun is trying to make its presence felt.

Hopefully I’ll get the car fixed this morning, if not I’ll have to get the old man’s car out of the garage.
He will want his belongings taken home today if the op is still on for tomorrow.
May even get a day off from visiting tomorrow, he will be in intensive care for a couple of days.
This will probably be the only time in his life when he is truly,
Chilled.
Hope all goes well.

So out of the depths of depression I’ve emerged with plans and hopes for the immediate future.

Just as the data source of the computer was labelled old and discarded to make way for a new embryonic source which will grow while improving overall efficiency.
I am ready to treat my past in the same way and lay down the foundations for a more fruitful, healthy future.

I had given myself a year to get over my ordeal and have taken that time to understand what my mind and body have been through.
I have given my memory time to recover and as it did I was able to pinpoint key events.
Having destroyed my old diaries I had to try hard to remember some of the events.
There are still many grey areas but I am no longer concerned about them, I’m able to let them go thus eradicating many doubts and fears which were previously causing me concern.

I do not consider myself to have a mental illness which will govern the rest of my life.
I do however realise I experienced an episode which has shaped my future.
Has altered my personality, way of thinking about myself and others, has probably made me more introvert.
I have learnt a lot about my mind and discovered previously unknown facets of its use.
It was in the beginning the cause of my distress but has also been the tool which has helped me “recover.”

Took car into exhaust centre and mechanic put it on the ramp and hoisted it up.

“Front sections gone,” he informed me, and then added that the back section was well past its best. I agreed it looked quite rough.

“You’ve only the cat left” he said, I told him that I knew for a fact that the cat wouldn’t go through another M.O.T. and needed replacing.

“ I need a decent one, not one of your budget specials,” I informed him.
The boss spent a few minutes on the computer and assured me if I left it for the lads to strip down and prepare the car would be ready for collection by noon.

I left and headed home; halfway there I stopped for a cup of tea and a rest outside the café.
A bus pulled up so I quickly drained my tea and boarded the bus.
I told the driver where I was going and asked how near the bus could take me.
“I just go round the estate,” he said, and asked for 90 pence.
I eventually got off after touring round the estate at a stop not more than 500 yards away from where I had gone on.

I walked up the hill towards my flat and was walking down the garden path before I realised.
The house key was on the key ring with the car ignition key.
There was no way on earth I was going to walk back to get it!

I deadheaded a few marigolds while considering what to do.

I decided to visit a neighbour, he was asleep but woke up as I entered and laid out exhausted on his uncomfortable two-seater sofa.
I told him how foolish I had been and said I would pass an hour until the pubs opened.
Eventually he woke himself up arose from the sofa , got dressed and made me a cup of tea, for which I was grateful.His electric meter alarm was sounding but undaunted he continued watching television until the power gave up.

I got myself ready and walked back down the hill into the village where I decided to treat myself to a breakfast in the café.
Really enjoyed it, well worth the £3.00.
I still had time to kill so I called in to the newsagents to redeem a winning ticket, which I swapped for a further two then on to the pub for a swift pint.

!2 o’clock approached so I set forth to collect my car, just as I entered the forecourt they were dropping the ramp, couldn’t have timed it better.
The final bill was £270.00.
Little bit of a shock but worth it if it gives peace of mind for a while.

Driving home was like driving a new car, very quiet and smooth.
I remembered to take the clematis out of the car boot, it looks nice in front of the drain pipe near the front garden, I’ll fetch a couple of long canes home tonight and secure it.
I’ve kept it in the shade for a couple of months to delay flowering so now it should burst forth into bloom and provide a bit of height to the garden.

When I got home I decided to tidy my wallet up and discard the losing lottery scratch card, was just about to throw it away when I noticed if a leprechaun symbol was showing then all four prizes would be payable.

Quickly I scratched off the prizes; sadly they only totalled £5.00.
I scratched one of the cards I’d just got, I’d told the young lass to pick out any two because she had a lucky face.
One card was a loser but the other was £20.00 so there’s a little bit back off the bill.

The weather is quite pleasant, sun shining and a light breeze just taking the edge off the temperature.
I’m sat with fan on, nice cooling breeze circulating around the room.

True I have had to walk more than I would have chosen to but any exercise has to be good for me, regardless of the repercussions and having a breakfast is a start to eating at a more acceptable time of day.
With a bit of luck that meal will last me all day.

Haven’t had a phone call yet from ma so I’m assuming pa is still on track to receive his op tomorrow.
No doubt he will be in a bit of a state today, I know he is frightened but he is trying hard not to show any signs of weakness, as is the norm in our family.

Place needs hovering and will look half tidy, may do that chore before departing for visit.

Have learnt something today,
Black pudding and Tetley’s Imperial tend to be aggressive towards one another!

Have to feel sorry for old man!
He’s spent all day getting himself psyched up for the op tomorrow, nurses came round while we were there and explained everything, gave him his gown and shaved him.
Then just before we were about to leave he was told he was being postponed again, that’s gotta hurt.
He tried to put a brave face on but I could tell he was disappointed;
He just wants to get everything over with and get home.
Apparently they have admitted patients from another hospital and they are getting ops straight away which is pissing some of the patients off.

One of the nurses who was present in St Lukes has just been given a nine month, suspended jail sentence for using a patients’ credit card.
For some reason she has opened her mouth and said the night staff are using amphetamines to stay awake.
http://www.gazettelive.co.uk/news/news/tm_headline=nurses-in-drug-claim-shock%26method=full%26objectid=19455268%26siteid=109975-name_page.html
I never saw any signs of the staff “speeding.”
True the nurse mentioned in the report was a “cranky” bitch, we fell out a couple of times, she had airs and graces and was always reading high brow shopping magazines, not a member of staff to turn to if one required help.
Some of the staff did take advantage of quiet times on night shift to grab some shuteye.

15 th july

2007-07-14T12:25:00.001+01:00

15/07/2007
06:33 Beautiful morning, sunny, lightly hazed sky.
Had an early night last night and almost immediately went into a war themed dream.
Scenes from war torn communities provided the backdrop for numerous scenarios, the ending of each one causing me to wake up momentarily then continue along the same theme.
I was dreaming right up to the moment I woke up this morning, the last dream being me wandering around an old ruined property, exploring, until I tried to open the shutters on a window high up on a narrow ledge.
A party of schoolboys stopped and looked up, saw me and began to chant that they would not allow me to gaze upon the window which was in fact the mirror of the soul of the building.
I was stuck with no way of getting down, I then woke up.

I had called into a pub on the way home and mother and I had a drink.
The bottle of beer had smelt yeasty but I didn’t complain and drank it.
I dropped her off at home and called into my local club to have another bottle and watch the bowls match in as much as I was sat outside and therefore able to smoke.
The beer was perfect, no smell of yeast, tasted lovely.
Got home and I was poorly, vomited up the contents of my stomach had a bit to eat and went to bed feeling mush better for the upchuck.

I am wondering if I may be affected by yeast?
I am certainly not going to waste anymore time drinking the dog if that is going to be the result.
This is not a one off incident, anyone who drinks Newcastle brown will tell you, if you get a bad bottle there is hell to pay and these last few years has seen a rise in the number of so called bad batches.

There is a possibility of some gear arriving this weekend, I intend to purchase some and forget about drinking altogether.
The only topic of conversation last night was the smoking ban, price of property in the area and bloody kids. The only two females in the company were married and the only alternative entertainment was to watch bowls.
Hardly an action packed Saturday night.

I don’t recall when my body began rejecting beer, must have been a few years ago. I used to drink almost everyday, never had any ill effects and then I was forced to drink less and less until I reached a limit of three pints, any more and I would have to vomit.
I obviously cannot see any sense in paying good money and then throwing up so will not miss drinking.

I realise smoking cannabis will mean buying baccy unless I smoke it under glass.
I do know that if I smoke it with baccy I will be able to resist having a normal one in between joints and that fact alone will eventually help me to cut down.
Am a little worried in case the Zyban interferes with the stone, but will not know until I have a tester which should be tonight.

I was bringing the old lady home last night and chose to use a single lane road which skirts the moors.
We have travelled that road thousands of times in the past.
“I lived there” she said,
Where/ I asked.
She went on to tell me her father had a farm yon side of Stockton. During the war years they built an aerodrome near it and disguised it as farm buildings.
Apparently if it had been bombed there was a chance of the river tees’ banks being damaged and therefore the farmland would have been flooded to they had moved to an isolated farm on the moor top.
Her father had been under a lot of pressure trying to run the farm on his own during the bad winter of 47 so they had moved to another farm a short distance away.
One which I have faint memories of myself, playing there as a child.

14 th July.

2007-07-14T12:25:00.000+01:00

Saturday, 14 July 2007
Woke up at 9 to a sunny, breezy morning, quite pleasant, as I drove to the shop for milk and baccy.
There was a faint voice in the back of my head telling me I could in fact do without the smoke; it disappeared as I entered the shop.
I did however feel I could have done so perhaps the Zyban tablets are having an effect.
No matter; I’ve bought it now so will be smoking for the weekend.

Another drugs bust in the area, cocaine worth £70,000 found, looks like charley is making friends among the residents of this area, not too surprising considering its low price and regular availability. Was only a couple of weeks ago a London dealer was caught having regularly travelled to Teesside to sell Class A.

I smoked my second rollie and did not enjoy it at all, another sign the Zyban is kicking in.
I think I may be in with a chance this time to quit.

Weather has changed; sky had greyed over and looks like we will be getting even more rain.
Bit of a shame because it has caused several outdoor events to be cancelled and there is another one planned for tomorrow, an open-air concert in Middlesbrough.

Went to see the old man in hospital yesterday and he was chirpy.
His surgeon had returned from his holidays and lost no time in checking in and telling the old man that if all went well he would be due for surgery on Tuesday.
So, father has to once again get himself prepared, mentally for the op.

Hope all does go well because I am getting just a little bit sick of travelling to and fro each day.
In a way it has done some good, I get a four hour break from smoking each day at a time when I would be smoking the most, i.e. mid afternoon.
I do however tend to make up for it by smoking quite a lot when I return home.
Today is Saturday, shit night’s viewing on TV so may have a couple of beers when I return and have an early night; with a bit of luck the wind will dry the garden out a little and I will be able to finish off the weeding tomorrow morning.
I regret buying the baccy but am not going to beat myself up about it because I have a feeling in my stomach that is not the usual nicotine craving it feels more like I am in control.
There is no need to smoke to satisfy cravings; I’m smoking because I choose to, no other reason, so therefore I am able to smoke less hopefully.
The cravings have abated; is a shorter version to describe what I feel.

The flat is in a mess; a week’s worth of washing up awaits attention as does the spots of jam which I dropped on the carpet the other night.
There is at least a carrier bag of rubbish on the floor next to the chair.
I had managed for three days to avoid walking on them but a neighbour called last night, took his boots off at the front door, and paddled barefoot to the front room.
He was incoherent, have no idea what he was on so I told him to return when he was straight.
He has paddled in the jam and spread it around the carpet!
I have a pile of dirty clothes to wash and I still need to unpack from the holiday.

Normally I’d just sit here and smoke till time for visiting but today I have the energy to get stuck in, so a couple of hour’s work and the place should be ship shape again.

Living in such a small flat one would assume that it would be easy to keep tidy and clean with minimum daily effort but that isn’t the case, the majority of single guys live in what can only be described as squalor most of he time.
They do however expect comment when they have made the effort but these occasions are few and far between.
I tend to leave things alone until I reach the limit of my personal intolerance.
Weekends have traditionally been the time for my tidy ups and today is no exception.
Obviously motivation is the crux; self disgust is my motivation.
I am ashamed at the untidy state and yes there is no excuse for leaving dishes unwashed for over a week.
Had a look at 10 day forecast and it’s more of the same, rain to be expected most days.
I was hoping for a couple of fine days to do some work in father’s garden.
Would prefer to get everything done before he gets out and is able to stand over me.
Don’t mind doing a bit of gardening but not when someone is issuing orders and watching over!
I will have a look at garden tomorrow, probably just wants an hour or so with the push hoe to remove weeds and generally tidy up.

Have been invited up for dinner today, having mince in a giant Yorkshire; looking forward to it.
For the last two weeks or so I haven’t been eating till after 6 p.m. which is not ideal. I do get a little hungry around midday but have made no effort to eat at this time.
I have got it in my mind to quit smoking by Tuesday, a date which coincides with his op, so will not be easily forgotten.
Once quit I will have to concentrate upon losing some weight and regaining some level of fitness.
I know I’ve been trying to achieve this for the last year but this time I feel confident.
I’d saved a few Zyban tablets to give me a start.
Probably more psychological than factual, but if I believe them to be assisting then they will and then will power will have to be my support.
I need to adopt a different frame of mind.

My father’s heart attack has brought back the feelings of shame I bear for not quitting smoking after my own heart attack.
Looking at him now, aged 75, fitter than me, he doesn’t look his age.
Here I am 50 speeding towards an early grave, digging it with every cigarette I smoke and every day I remain inactive.
True I have a disability, an uncertain future, but that is no excuse for not trying to get the best out of the present.
I am worried about my mother she seems so frail and has a nasty cough which she blames on the medication.

I had never thought I’d live this long so obviously have never considered a life in my 60’s or more.
I now have to adopt a frame of mind which accepts there may be a slim chance of me surviving for a number of years, hopefully living past my parents.

This last year has been time wasted, I adopted my usual winter hibernation, but the reward of emerging again for the summer has been so far worthless.
True I’m 95% through my ECDL and I have managed to turn an unruly area of lawn into a nice flower garden.
I have attempted to stop smoking and failed miserably at times but never stopped trying.
I have refused to get sucked in to the routine of daily drinking, preferring to treat myself to a bottle of decent malt when and if the mood takes me.
As a result of the above I have managed to save a little bit of money up to provide a financial cushion.

My most notable “achievement” must be my refusal to accept that I need tablets to control my mind.
I have been off the Zyprexa tablets for some months now, only taking them occasionally when needed to help me have a good night’s sleep.
I will not lie, there has been times when I have felt a relapse coming on, in as much as I recognised signs in my behaviour and more often thought patterns which set off alarm bells.

18 months ago, I was labelled as being a bi-polar manic-depressive.
I never accepted the label and it felt uneasy riding on my shoulders.
I had experienced a mental and physical breakdown but accepted that as part of what I regarded as simply being a mid life crisis, a time of radical change.
I began writing as a form of self-help.
I never set out to write about anything in particular simply jotted down my daily thoughts as they came and went in random order.
At times I accepted the label of my illness, wrote about my experiences, and in doing so became less afraid.
The diagnosis that my psychosis had been cannabis fuelled was perhaps correct in part, I had used the drug on a daily basis, smoking up to 17 joints per “day,”
A day being time woke up till time passed out.
I no longer have the need to use cannabis to aid long sessions of study, because I no longer am as deeply embroiled in my pursuit of knowledge, my lifestyle has changed dramatically.
I have learnt to control a mind which at one time was operating at such a speed as to render control impossible.
I have learnt to take time out, be selfish and relax, enjoy simple pleasures and be more aware of my surroundings.

I still bear the hallmarks of my crack up, expressionless face and tendency to be quiet, but saying that, the old me is still inside, waiting for release when better circumstances prevail.

In the space of a year I have become a different person, more reflective, less aggressive and agitated, deeper in thought and spirit.
I have used self-hypnosis and meditation to get me through bad times and used occasional joints to celebrate any minor victories along the way.

For years, prior to my crack up I travelled along many roads, often unlit and unsignposted, with no knowledge of how far I’d travelled, in which direction or with any destination in mind.
Thus I never knew when the journey had actually started and therefore had no way of knowing when it would end.

This last twelve months has been totally different, I had no destination in mind,
I had to rely upon my confidence to rebuild my self-esteem and hope I would be strong enough to recognise the changes along the way and build upon them.
When I was poorly I lost all self-respect, esteem, felt totally worthless and insignificant.
I was at war with the world, rejected everything that was medically said about myself and became totally selfish.
My problem was my mind,
I knew that, the problem was painfully apparent, I was in danger of losing control of my mind and if I hadn’t of had the strength to do battle I would have ended up institutionalised.
I had no thoughts of the future, all aspirations were forgotten, I wanted nothing because nothing would have been possible if I didn’t regain control over the troubled brain.
I have used this term before but I knew I had to defrag and clean up the muddled, racing thought processes, slow everything down to a manageable speed and get rid of all the clutter in my life thus giving me time and chance to sort out emotions, fears, dispel doubts and build upon positive thoughts instead of worrying about negative ones.

Depression is a dark, powerful emotion but with knowledge one can be aware of the signs and learn how to counter act the forces involved.
Fear is equally powerful, fear of losing one’s mind is extremely powerful, but that power can be reversed and used to fight, if the person is strong enough, and thankfully I was.
Anxiety; fearful of venturing out or meeting people, being unable to interact, loss of memory, inability to do simple everyday tasks, leads to apathy.
True I travelled deep inside myself at times, completely shutting out the outside “normal” world, but I had to.
I had to shut myself off from the distractions of the outside world to enable me to concentrate upon my self, the root of the problem.
By concentrating upon my self each day, noticing moods, physical and mental changes I was able to learn what triggers off individual emotions.
No doubt I could have spent months in a mental hospital trying to come to terms with my so called illness but being a solitary animal I was better able to help myself when left alone to my own devices.

Just as I notice the differing degrees of “blackness” in the woods at midnight I had to become aware of the differing depths of depression, I experienced the different levels and returned safely from each visit.

I did use cannabis to help me, I will admit to that.
When I needed a lift to help me overcome a bout of depression it was there for me, if I felt I needed a reward for the apparent progress made, I used it, preferring a joint to drinking.
When anxious about my future, thinking I may not be strong enough to cope, I used it,
When reflecting upon the positive aspects of my life, I used it to open up a different section of my mind, one which could find positive aspects, enough to bring on a feel good factor.

I will continue to use cannabis in preference to alcohol.

I feel I have turned a corner and am ready to close a chapter of my life which has been, frightening, intense, at times enjoyable, and at times extremely terrifying.
I have survived and because of the experience have become a totally different person.

I had given myself 12 months and that time period is all but up, I am ready to go forward.

13 th July

2007-07-13T11:44:00.001+01:00

Friday, 13 July 2007
Good 11 hours sleep thanks to a couple of whiskies and a Zyprexa.
Forecast for today is rain and by the look of the sky it isn’t far away.

Ever wondered about the superstition behind the Friday 13?
http://www.geocities.com/CollegePark/4885/fri13.html
http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_is_the_origin_of_the_Friday_the_13th_superstition

Today would be an ideal day to get stoned and listen to sounds but I have the hospital run to do and there is no gear in town.
The sky remains dark heavily laden clouds linger overhead.
I have no wish to tempt fate by taking the trays of plants out of the car but will have to give them some water.

I suppose it is an ideal day to plant them out, will give it half and hour and see how I feel.
I am not too well today in as much as I feel deflated, there are a few jobs which I should be doing, but I’m not up to doing them.

12 th July

2007-07-12T11:24:00.000+01:00

12 Jul. 07

Up at 9, feeling unusually well today.
Was in quite a lot of pain yesterday especially neck but good restful sleep seems to have done the trick.
Grey start to the day but by 11 the sun begins to break through the cloud cover, am thinking about doing some more weeding prior to getting the plants out, they have been in the car for two days now and will soon be flowering if I leave them much longer.

Am getting to end of baccy and am thinking perhaps one more pack and then Zyban should begin to kick in.

Apparently my father’s surgeon had planned to do my father’s op before going on his holidays but an emergency had taken the slot.
So the old man has to wait for his return from his hols and then a further five days for a change of medication to take effect and then he will be able to have his op.
So he will not be home before the end of the month.
I will have to get my garden done and hopefully if the weather improves do some work on the old man’s garden.
He is talking about giving his garden up but that is just because he is pissed off with waiting around for his op.
He is not the best of people when patience is concerned and being cooped up in the hospital isn’t best pleasing him.
I couldn’t imagine what he would be like at home!

I remember when I was taken in the doctor wanted me to stay in for six weeks to get my strength up prior to the op.
I had to plead with him to let me go home, I had to convince him that my life at home was so different to life on the ward, no newspapers, television, or constant stream of visitors etc.
I did convince him that me staying in bed in hospital would make my health worse and he eventually agreed.

He sits on his bed everyday watching patients come in and then go down for their ops, each one that goes before him no doubt annoying him more and more.

For the past six months I’ve left my issues of computer active unwrapped so now when I visit I get a chance to read two copies each day.
I was saving them for something to read in the garden whilst enjoying the summer sun but looks like those chances will be few and far between this year judging by the summer weather so far.

11 th July

2007-07-11T11:49:00.000+01:00

Wednesday, 11 July 2007
Took a Zyprexa last night after sinking four whiskies, so had good sleep, woke up at 10.30.
Miserable sort of day, weather wise.

Have two trays of plants in the car, should really get them planted today.

Went through the routine of emptying the ashtray down the toilet before I went to bed last night.
However I’ve just been to shop for baccy.
Taken a Zyban this morning, takes two or three days to get into system so if I take it easy with this pouch who knows may be last.
Was surprised at how warm it was outside so have steeled myself to doing osme work in the garden, shouldn’t really because my back will punish me for it but hopefully a hot bath will overcome it.

Could have had some gear last night but refused it, preferring as I did to have a couple of shorts and take a “sleeper.”

Have had my nicotine fix, time now to get the plants in and do some weeding.

Am having some problems opening Blogger; takes my details but then starts to flash on and off whilst trying to load.Had a look on help site and posted request for assistance, looks like several others are experiencing problems.
Eventually got the reclaim old account link to work and accessed via that.

10 th July

2007-07-10T13:11:00.000+01:00

10/07/2007
08:52
Up at 7 45, still felt tired so went back to bed but after half an hour realised it was futile so got up again to greet the morning.
As predicted the weather is quite nice, hazy sky and sunshine, it’s going to cloud over later so today may be the only chance to do some gardening.

Bloody magpies are chattering away just outside on the rooftop.

Just done a full scan and came up with Trojan horse, which was safely deleted.

Quick look through news, national and local, nothing of any interest to me.

Am in a strange mood today, feel unsettled in as much as mind is?
Thinking again what should be done yet body reluctant to assist in any way.
Tonight going to have an early kip, take a Zyprexa and hopefully wake up tomorrow with a bit more enthusiasm.
Perhaps this last week of visiting the old man in hospital has tired me out or maybe the time is right to make some changes to my own sedentary lifestyle.

I seem to have been in a mild depression for a couple of weeks now but am unsure as to what actually triggered it off.
I called in to the club last night when I returned from the hospital; there were a few guys in.
One had been drinking in the town all-day and told everyone that all the pubs he visited were dead.

Another couple came in and reported they had left a pub because they had been the only drinkers in there.

Another guy had been barred out of a pub on Sunday night;
his girlfriend had gone outside for a smoke and got into conversation with a guy who was also enjoying a smoke, the guys’ girlfriend came out, saw the two talking and a fight broke out.
News of the fight was relayed to my mate who went outside and he began fighting with the guy! He made the mistake of dragging the guy back into the pub and several other people joined in, resulting in him and his girlfriend being barred.

So much for the smoking ban.
I sat and had my bottle but must admit I didn’t enjoy it without the accompanying usual cigarette; I did have a smoke at the front door but didn’t enjoy that either.
Beer and fag like cod and chips, bread and butter, separate them and you end up lacking.

Until I stop smoking I will not get the usual enjoyment from drinking so obviously I returned home.
Now the smokers of the club are catered for because they are using the tables and seats outside which belong to the bowls section.
A strange breed of people, if ever there was one.
I cannot see them putting up with the smokers using their facilities for too long, only takes a gust of wind and tab ends will end up on the sacred green.
There is talk of erecting a shelter outside for the smokers but I cannot see that catching on in wintertime.
So far three people have given up, which I suppose is a result; the bar staff however are still nipping outside whenever possible to have their smokes.
I cannot see regulars putting up with the constant opening and closing of doors while smokers stream in and out for smokes and drinks.
Something will snap.

Looking at the long-range weather forecasts the weather does seem to be showing signs of improving from the beginning of next week.
True I am sat here now with windows open enjoying the fresh air, even though it is chilly enough to warrant wearing a sweater.

Lost myself for an hour or so playing poker!
Must get away from that fuckin game, bad enough watching it on TV!

9 th July.

2007-07-09T11:39:00.000+01:00

Probably thinking, "I'm bored sick."

09/07/2007

09:20. Been up an hour, waiting for the sun to appear, first signs now.
Still haven’t figured out why P.C. is so slow.

“The nice part about being a pessimist,
Is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised.”

Removed all of Norton products including go back, took one helluva a long time to remove history.
Am going to rely once more upon AVG.
Everything is faster, more like it used to be.
Just have to set a restore point and I think I have solved the problem.
Am always suspicious when Norton warns of subscription running out and then I get a virus warning.
The so-called virus, misdirect.app kept taking me to retail sites for protection.
System restored après Norton.

Has taken quite a while to get system back up and fit but will be worth it, was getting really annoyed at the slowness of the whole thing and not knowing what was causing it.
Have made several changes; not to search for newer pages being one of them.
Should really get college work out of way and update to latest version of I.E. but will have to wait.

Temperamental type of day; lovely and warm when sun is shining but cold when it isn’t.
Have tidied room up and hoovered, still a lot more to do but nothing that cannot wait.
Am determined to do some weeding, perhaps an hour should see a difference.

Bloody typical the weather has changed, sky has clouded over and I think more rain is on the way!

http://danharlow.com/?p=576
The white Jesus has always bothered me.
Yeah, I’m an atheist but I do think Christians need to face facts and stop watering down their faith with friendly, nice guy pictures of Jesus holding lambs and smiling with his 12 buddies as happy children run behind him tossing palm leaves.
How is anyone going to take a guy who looks like he travels with Phish supposed to be the same guy that’s going to judge all souls come time for the apocalypse?

I thought religion was supposed to be serious business and not a feel good romp through the meadow.
In my opinion white Christians like to avoid the nasty side of their religion.
They like to make it easy on themselves to continue believing.
They want to feel righteous and to do so they strip away all the stuff that clearly states they are poor sinners who could quite easily go to hell for all eternity. White Christians want to feel good all the time without any of the guilt.
They want to judge everyone else but they are terrified to be judged themselves.

If their prophet was a Jew from Israel, why isn’t he depicted as such?

Forgotten is any message he may have had because it has been replaced by artists who wanted to make him less threatening in hopes to bring in more converts to the churches commissioning their work.
Jesus, the friend of man,
Jesus the nice guy,
The good-looking white man who will forgive you no matter what you do is what we have left all in the name of Public Relations.

‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ Matthew 23
Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you.
“Fuck off.”

Apparently the biggest topic of Jesus’ conversations was Hell,
His second was money,
And we all know that money is like manure,
If you don’t spread it around it’s just shit.

Cut down on unwanted junk mail by putting a 'no junk mail' sticker on your door.
To request a free 'no junk mail' sticker please contact us at wasteserivces@wandsworth.gov.uk or on (020) 8871 8558.
To reduce the amount of unwanted direct (addressed) mail, register with the Mailing Preference Service online or by calling (020) 7291 3310.
You can also opt out of receiving unaddressed mail from Royal Mail by calling 08457 740740 or email your address to optout@royalmail.com.
Another useful website is http://www.controlyourpost.co.uk/.
Remember that any junk mail you do still receive can be recycled.

8 th July

2007-07-08T12:06:00.000+01:00

Sunday, 08 July 2007
Up at ten, having had 7 hours sleep.
Weather wise?
A little better than of late, sunshine, cloudy skies and a brisk refreshing breeze.
Was able to leave windows wide open this morning when I went to bed and flat smells a lot sweeter for having had a good blow through.

Had a look at ten day forecast and looks like only two possible days without rain!
Very poor month.

One man died and another was seriously injured when they jumped into the sea off a pier in Essex, in a stunt known as "tomb stoning.”

Emergency services were alerted at about 1830 BST on Saturday when five middle-aged men reportedly jumped off the pier in Clacton.
Two were said to have been unconscious and were flown to hospital. One died and the other is now in intensive care.
I watched a program last night on the TV about this “sport”, and must admit I wasn’t impressed.
If five men jump and only one escapes unhurt, that’s not very good odds!

Went to hospital to see the old man, he seems settled, docs are coming round tomorrow to give him some idea of when op is going to be.
Me, I’ve had a good meal, came home with enough grub to last me the week and had relaxing hot bath.
I called into club when I got home, first time I’ve been in for six weeks.
Apparently the place has gone dead.
Luckily the bowls ground outside has been the saviour with most people opting to sit outside, be they smoker or not.
The smokers are outside and if anyone wants a bit of crack they have to go outside for it.

I ran a complete check of computer and there is nothing to worry about, yet the speed has reduced dramatically.
Takes ages to start up and turn off, will just have to put up with it.
Looks like the village has missed the downpours today so may be able, if the rain holds off tonight to get some gardening done, i.e. weeding tomorrow.

Father’s garden needs to be weeded and some plants are nearly ready to be put out so looks like I will be busy for most of the remainder of the month.

6.30p.m. Best part of the day here.Could murder a joint!
Going to have to make do with acid promoting whisky and lemonade.

7 th July

2007-07-08T11:11:00.001+01:00

07 July 2007
Finished off whisky yesterday and took a Zyprexa before retiring, had a good sleep.
Anyone seeking any more information bout Cannabis, here’s another site.
http://www.cannabisconsumers.org/reports/gettinghigh.php

Weather is again crap; damp, cold, and miserable, ten day forecast is more of the same!
Grass is coming back up in flower garden and I have a lot of plants which need to go in plus another load of seedlings which need transplanting but unable to do either in this weather.

Although it is an offence to possess ibogaine in the US, Switzerland and Belgium, obtaining the drug for personal use in Britain - where it is classified as an 'unlicensed, experimental medicine' - is not illegal. Exponents argue that it also helps those addicted to cocaine, crack cocaine, alcohol, and tobacco to break their habits.
Sandberg points out that no detoxification methods are totally safe - methadone, the heroin substitute most often prescribed, kills 200 addicts a year in the UK.
'It offers unique benefits, such as the inducing of a dream-like state where the user frequently gains vital insights into the psychological roots of their addictive behaviour, and a period afterwards of up to two months where they no longer crave drugs.' Sandberg wants drugs companies to back comprehensive research into ibogaine, a vital step for the Government approval needed to license it for availability on the NHS.
In Britain, the Green Party is so impressed with the potential of ibogaine that it has promised in its election manifesto to fund medical trials of the drug.

http://www.iamshaman.com/eshop/10Browse.asp?Category=Kratom

http://www.ibogaine.co.uk/options.htm

http://www.herb-a-list.co.uk/

The above are just a couple of sites I came across while researching ibogaine.
Would love to hear from anyone, who has tried any other suppliers and found decent products.

Osteoarthritis (for the best site on arthritis, osteo or rheumatoid, go to www.arthritissupport.com)
Please keep in mind that if you are a heavy NSAID user for Arthritis Pain,
In the long run you are doing yourself a disservice as these drugs actually make the problem worse by helping to disintegrate what's left of your cartilage.

Went in to see the old man he was a bit disappointed to wake up when the pre med had worn off to find himself back in the ward not having had the op.
Apparently an emergency came in and took his slot, unfortunately the guy died, spoiling the 100% record thus achieved.
He will have to steel himself again when the surgeons arrange another date.

Treated myself to another bottle of whisky of which I partook after preparing myself a curry.
Stayed up till the early hours of the morning watching Poker.

6 th July

2007-07-06T11:29:00.000+01:00

06 July 2007
Yet another, dull, damp grey day.

He's a Birmingham lad and he's done rather well for himself."
Who are they talking about?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/west_midlands/6276056.stm

“A sledgehammer to crack a walnut if ever I heard one.”
Comment left on web site describing how a father was jailed for taking the rap for his son’s speeding offence.
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/uk/crime/article2017307.ece

The Daily Telegraph says that Britain is importing only the tiniest fraction of its oil from the Middle East, sourcing its crude instead from the Americas, Africa and Norway.

Unpaid taxes could be seized directly from people’s bank accounts without a court order under proposals drawn up by Revenue & Customs to deal with late payments.

Warren Buffett, the third-richest man in the world, has criticised the US tax system for allowing him to pay a lower rate than his secretary and his cleaner.
And in Britain.http://timesbusiness.typepad.com/money_weblog/2007/06/private-equity-.html

In a quandary about best Pizza bargains?
Simply square (multiply by itself) the diameter (width) of the pizza.
While this doesn’t give you the area, as the rest of the equation for area is a constant, then you can simply use these amounts as an easy way to compare relative areas.

An example will help
Imagine the choice is the following:
A. Two 8″ pizzas cost £11B. One 12″ pizza costs £10

At first glance the 12″ pizza doesn’t seem that much bigger,
Yet actually it’s much bigger.
Let’s do the comparison.

A. Square 8″ and you get (8x8=) 64.
Yet there are two eight-inch pizzas so we must double this to get 128.
B. Then simply square 12″ and you get (12x12=) 144.

What this means is you get more pizza buying one 12 inch than buying two eight inches. To be accurate there’s (144/128=1.125) 12.5% more pizza buying the 12″, and as it’s cheaper it’s a much better deal as its cheaper anyway.

Alternatively make your own.
Or there is the ready steady cook way...Quick and Easy Pizza DoughThe recipe is 4oz plain flour, splash of water, splash of olive oil.Mix to form a dough, roll out thin (5mm) and dry fry in a pan for 2/3 mins each side.Place on baking sheet and add pizza topping, cook in 220-degree oven for 5 mins.
The time it takes to apply for a new card and balance transfer to it (shift debt from the old card to the new one, hopefully at a cheaper rate) is roughly six weeks,
Apathy is valuable.
Many companies make a fortune out of our forgetfulness.
The tart alert is a way to fight back. Quite simply it's a free text or e-mail reminder six weeks before you need to act, so you can beat the bank.
To apply.
http://www.moneysavingexpert.com/cards/credit-card-tart

What makes 1984 so popular?
Like most great works of literature its relevance is timeless and will always be so. Big Brother is an inherit part of any government.

At some point in your life you will feel disillusioned and will relate to Winston Smith, at least a bit.
At every point in your life you will be surrounded by countries where it is a crime to think and speak certain things.
Racistly, we assume that these laws exist in third world totalitarian countries, guarded by dark men with large guns.
In reality they exist in such “democratic” countries as Austria, Germany, Spain, Switzerland, Israel, and Canada.
In the US one finds an extensive surveillance program, and with George Bush's recent announcement that the War on Terror (©) will last decades, Americans now live in the land of never-ending war.
The similarities could go on, but the point is clear.

The society we inhabit shares a lot in common with the one Orwell envisioned. This is not unique to our time, as control is an important aspect of any government.
The question is when does said control of society outweigh the benefits that society receives?

http://questionthemark.org/2007/01/31/anatomy-of-propaganda-how-the-government-lies-about-marijuana.aspx

What makes 1984 so popular?
Like most great works of literature its relevance is timeless and will always be so. Big Brother is an inherit part of any government.

At some point in your life you will feel disillusioned and will relate to Winston Smith, at least a bit.
At every point in your life you will be surrounded by countries where it is a crime to think and speak certain things.
Racistly, we assume that these laws exist in third world totalitarian countries, guarded by dark men with large guns.
In reality they exist in such “democratic” countries as Austria, Germany, Spain, Switzerland, Israel, and Canada.
In the US one finds an extensive surveillance program, and with George Bush's recent announcement that the War on Terror (©) will last decades, Americans now live in the land of never-ending war.
The similarities could go on, but the point is clear.

The society we inhabit shares a lot in common with the one Orwell envisioned. This is not unique to our time, as control is an important aspect of any government.
The question is when does said control of society outweigh the benefits that society receives?

http://questionthemark.org/2007/01/31/anatomy-of-propaganda-how-the-government-lies-about-marijuana.aspx
http://www.healthology.com/schizophrenia/schizophrenia-treatment/article1007.htm

I have been trying to keep occupied today knowing that if all goes well my father should be having his operation some time.
I waited till 3 p.m. and rang mother.
He is having his op right now.
That news seemed to floor me, I was relieved when she said that there would be no point in going in to see him,
A) The staff wouldn’t want us there,
B) He wouldn’t know we were there.

I think I’ll have a couple of drinks and perhaps a couple of hours in bed.

I have been trying to keep occupied today knowing that if all goes well my father should be having his operation some time.
I waited till 3 p.m. and rang mother.
He is having his op right now.
That news seemed to floor me, I was relieved when she said that there would be no point in going in to see him,
A) The staff wouldn’t want us there,
B) He wouldn’t know we were there.

I think I’ll have a couple of drinks and perhaps a couple of hours in bed.
Got a call the op has been postponed.

Nothing taught me more about the love of my parents than my own depression.
http://www.healthcentral.com/depression/
Specific Exercises for Low Back Strength
Perform the following exercises at least three times a week:
Partial Sit-ups. Partial sit-ups or crunches strengthen the abdominal muscles.
Keep the knees bent and the lower back flat on the floor while raising the shoulders up three to six inches.
Exhale on the way up and inhale on the way down.
Perform this exercise slowly eight to ten times with the arms across the chest.

Pelvic Tilt. The pelvic tilt alleviates tight or fatigued lower back muscles.
Lie on the back with the knees bent and feet flat on the floor.
Tighten the buttocks and abdomen so that they tip up slightly.
Press the lower back to the floor, hold for one second, and then relax.
Be sure to breathe evenly.
Over time increase this exercise until it is held for five seconds. Then, extend the legs a little more so that the feet are further away from the body and try it again.

Stretching Lower-Back Muscles. The following are three exercises for stretching the lower back:
Lie on the back with knees bent and legs together. Keeping arms at the sides, slowly roll the knees over to one side until totally relaxed. Hold this position for about 20 seconds (while breathing evenly) and then repeat on the other side.

Lying on the back, hold one knee and pull it gently toward the chest. Hold for 20 seconds. Repeat with the other knee.

While supported on hands and knees, lift and straighten right hand and left leg at the same time. Hold for three seconds while tightening the abdominal muscles. The back should be straight. Alternate with the other arm and leg and repeat on each side 8 to 20 times.

By Deepak Chopra
You have been living inside a prison that has no visible walls - the confines of your self derive entirely from the habits and conditioning of your mind.
If you are committed to growing younger, you must escape this prison of conditioning. You are not to blame for living within unnecessary limitations.
If a rope is tied around the leg of a baby elephant and attached to a stake in the ground, it learns that it can only move within very narrow limits.
Years later, as a powerful adult, it remains within narrow confines when its leg is staked, even though it has the strength to uproot an entire tree.
It has been conditioned to accept the limitations imposed upon it.

Until recently, few have questioned the assumption that aging is irreversible, and therefore, for generation after generation, people have reinforced the habitual thinking that growing older meant a progressive decline in mental and physical capacity.

Before you decide which biological age you choose to experience, you are all possible biological ages.
It's up to you to decide what age you want to be.

According to Ayurveda, the ancient healing tradition of India, aging is an illusion because your true self is neither your body nor your mind.
Your essential nature, who you really are, is the domain of ever-present witnessing awareness that is beyond your physical and mental layers

The reason we perform any action is in the hope that it will bring us satisfaction, fulfilment, and happiness. Embracing the spiritual domain, which is the source and goal of all desires in life, creates the possibility for satisfaction, happiness, and fulfilment independent of the inevitably changing situations, circumstances, and people that surround us.

Those fortunate ones who dwell in this domain have achieved what is often called enlightenment.
When you become clear that the reason you want to live to a hundred or more years is so you can express your full creative potential, you change your chemistry and physiology.

When you identify your unique talents and commit to using them in the service of others, you strengthen your immune system.
When you decide that exercising regularly or preparing a balanced meal is an enjoyable experience, you improve your circulatory health and lower your blood pressure.
Your perceptions, interpretations, and expectations influence every aspect of your mental and physical health.
Shifting your perspective and making new choices provide you with powerful tools to change your life.

Pain in the present is experienced as hurt.
Pain in the past is remembered as anger.
Pain in the future is perceived as anxiety.
Unexpressed anger, redirected against yourself and held within, is called guilt. The depletion of energy that occurs when anger is redirected inward creates depression ...

http://www.thisisawar.com/OldAge.htm
Your past does not equal your future.
What matters is not yesterday but what you do right now. So many people are trying to drive into the future using a rear-view mirror to guide themselves! If you do that, you'll crash.
Instead you must focus on what you can do today to make things better.

Keep thinking, "Even though my life looks terrible right now, there are many things to be thankful for,
Like the two friends I have,
Or the fact that I have all my senses, or that I can breathe fresh air.
" I constantly reminded myself to focus on what I wanted, to focus on solutions instead of problems.
And I remembered that no problem affects my entire life, even though it may look like it right now.

http://www.thisisawar.com/AddictionNarc.htm

"At the age of 28 I was told I had maybe six months to live. I just turned 43. In that time I have given birth to a daughter who is now 12.
My oncologist gave me one hope. This is what he said:

"If you think you are going to die, chances are you will. If you think you are going to live, you have just increased your chances significantly.
Eighty percent of your cure is your attitude."

I do wonder if a sort of "social hypnosis" does prevail when it comes to retirement age. For some people, especially men, retirement is literally a death sentence.
Remember, just like every cell in our body, a human being needs to constantly receive the message: "You are needed." Retirement sends a very strong message: "You are no longer needed." If the common age of retirement became 75, then the definition of "old" would probably move up to 80 or 85.

Over time I did come to realize and believe it was possible for me to feel joy to be alive - and that was a wonderful new facet, another dimension to my life, and it gave me a shiny fresh new way of looking at people and things. And some people never know that at all. Or possibly, they don’t recognize it when it comes to them, and so dismiss it for a fluke? It can’t possibly last ... and so, of course, it doesn’t.
A self-fulfilling prophecy: I sabotaged myself this way dozens - maybe hundreds - of times when I was younger. It was a joyless existence. Yes, many people do get to appreciate life more as they grow older, though, from my experience, sometimes it takes a lot of work! But that’s okay.
One just has to be willing.

If I want to believe that life is lonely and that nobody loves me, then that is what I will find in my world.

Most of us have foolish ideas about who we are + many, many rigid rules about how life ought to be lived
This is not to condemn us; for each of us is doing the very best we can at this very moment.
If we knew better, if we had more understanding
"Men don't cry!" "Women can't handle money!" What limiting ideas to live with.

We are all victims of victims, and they could not possibly have taught us anything they did not know.
If your mother did not know how to love herself, or your father did not know how to love himself, then it would be impossible for them to teach you to love yourself.
They were doing the best they could with what they had been taught as children.

If you want to understand your parents more, get them to talk about their own childhood; and if you listen with compassion, you will learn where their fears and rigid patterns come from.
Those people who "did all that stuff to you" were just as frightened and scared as you are.

All the events you have experienced in your lifetime up to this moment have been created by your thoughts and beliefs you have held in the past.
They were created by the thoughts and words you used yesterday, last week, last month, last year, 10, 20, 30, 40, or more years ago, depending on how old you are.
However, that is your past.
It is over and done with.

What is important in this moment is what you are choosing to think and believe and say right now.
For these thoughts and words will create your future.
Your point of power is in the present moment and forming the experience of tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, and so on.
You might notice what thought you are thinking at this moment.
Is it negative or positive?
Do you want this thought to be creating your future?
Just notice and be aware.

The past has no power over us. It doesn't matter how long we have had a negative pattern.
The point of power is in the present moment.
What a wonderful thing to realize!
Change the thought, and the feeling must go."
Purposeful activities occupy mind-space, and the more the task engages or takes up your attention, the more mind-space it occupies.
Get involved enough in something or do something absorbing enough, and there’s no more mind-space left to think about anything else.

It's all too easy for you to turn down the volume on your feelings when they become too painful, yet this tactic may not work that well today.
Sure, you can distract yourself by jumping into one chore after another, but you will eventually tire and will still have to face your emotions.
Instead of keeping yourself so busy, set aside some down time to sink into your discomfort.
This can catalyze the healing that you have been seeking.
My stars for today!

5 th July.

2007-07-05T14:49:00.000+01:00

Thursday, 05 July 2007
Woken up at nine, by phone call.
Apparently the old man is having his op today and all his belongings need to be taken home, could we get there for 10.30.
Ma also wants to stop off and do some shopping, i.e. new pyjamas.

We rushed like hell and arrived on time to find out his op isn’t due till this afternoon and there was no panic at all.
Ma was in a helluva mess, all over the place; she got annoyed at him so we left him in peace after only 20 minutes or so.

Perhaps he should have apologised for getting the old lady in such a flap, but he didn’t.

I received a warning of a virus infection on the computer yesterday and was hassled into downloading security programs such as anti virus and anti spyware.
I don’t know what has happened to Norton.
I bought the security package at the same time as the computer; it now informs me my subscription is running out, then a virus warning.
I’m currently running a scan with an old favourite of mine AVG.
During the scan Norton kicked in and began scanning, so had to stop that, turn off system restore in case of infection in there.
Now just sitting back and waiting for the results.

Because of what was said last night in the hospital we assumed we wouldn’t be visiting today, so I took a Zyprexa last night and had a good sleep which would undoubtedly have gone on if not for the phone call this morning.

I did not feel like doing any town driving or racing against the clock.
I could also have done without the P.C. problems, but at least it will serve to take my mind off things.

There’s only a 5% risk during the op so he has good odds.

Looks like today will be taken up with computer maintenance, just like the good old days.
Now the operation has been postponed till tomorrow!

Wish they would make their minds up.

Apparently danger file is known as MisleadApp.
AVG is still active, Norton has told me the virus has now been quarantined.
Now downloaded AVG anti spyware, and doing full check.
Followed up with clean out of cookies and files, defrag and check disc.
Not a lot more I can do.

Hopefully problem solved.

*******************************************************************************8
Word of warning for any would be movie downloaders.
http://www.zeropaid.com/news/story.php?id=8877

Here’s another tale for people who use work computers for file sharing.
http://www.zeropaid.com/news/8875/UK+Engineeering+Firm+raided+in+Illegal+File-Sharing+Probe/
Bad news for dementia sufferers and where does the money go?http://uk.reuters.com/article/domesticNews/idUKL0384082120070704Bad

4 th July

2007-07-04T10:27:00.001+01:00

04/07/2007
06:44
Had an excellent sleep and woke up to this cold morning.
Saw the old man in hospital.
He’s had the stent put in to get him out of immediate danger but apparently the other side of his heart is also damaged so he will be having the full Monty when the doctors agree upon the timing, may be straight away or may make him wait a week or so.
Hospital looked spic and span.
Hope mother got some sleep last night; she is shattered and shook up.
Think my father is more annoyed than anything else, considering his healthy life style he is puzzled as to why it has happened to him.
But he is willing to let the doctors do whatever they think best.
I spark.
I looked around the ward he was in, room containing four beds.
State of the heart,(forgive me), monitoring equipment suspended from easy to access wall mounted arms.
Fine.
Other side of bed, similar arm with console for phone, TV, pay per view, radio, games, and Internet.
Bill payable by credit card,
I noticed none of the patients were using the console and worse than that these machines do not seem to be turned off, their screens are playing the continuous loop of self advertising material.
One was advertising to an empty bed.
Surely in these days of energy conservation these machines should be turned off.
The grounds of the hospital look tidy and the planting schemes are at their best.
There’s a lift nearly as big as my front room which takes one directly to the ward from the front entrance.
True disabled parking is a ways found the corner; the one-way system makes it impossible to get near the front door to pick up a disabled passenger, unless of course you go full circle around the system again.
Visitors would be well advised to leave before the staff and majority of patients leave together, or face long traffic light controlled queues just to get out of the parking area.
The relationship between the hospital and its surrounding area is brought home to the patients.
The curtains which surround the beds have been printed with a design depicting all the landmarks etc of the area.
Looks like a schools project for the infants.
If it was; well done you.
If it was produced by some top price designers.
N.H.S. shame on you.
A couple of crows are having a verbal argument from adjacent rooftops and a seagull circles overhead, calling as he does so.
I take it as read; one of the residents has thrown a half loaf of bread out for the birds.
Chuffing birds love this close.
Next to a field,
Centrally heated, poorly lagged roofs in winter, to keep their feet warm.
Plentiful supplies of bread throughout the day.
Multitude of aerial perches to choose from.
(Quick joke)
Two birds, sat on a perch,
One asks the other,
“Can you smell fish?”
Ringed doves, wood pigeons, coo to each other annoyingly, crows sit on your chimney and do their best to annoy you as their raucous cry travels down into the room.
Starlings by the hundred cover the grassed feeding area with their shifting slickness of black.
Magpies are the worst, they hop and follow each other along the rooftops, gesturing to each other and making the most god-awful sounds.
I think the seagulls come to the close to sharpen up their “bombing” skills.
My car, which in truth is almost a permanent fixture parked outside, seldom moving it provides each bird with a static target of a reference point to gauge improvement in aiming skills.
Apart from the two nests in my loft I see very few small birds around.
I’m “lucky” in the odd times the birds from the nest take time out and perch on the tv cable outside the window.
I get a chance to see close up the annoying little bastards.
And once again I will probably be surprised some day when I return home to find a young sparrow in the room, having gained entrance from the loft.
(I open the hatch when weather’s warm), one of the advantages about having a few slates missing, the roof, not me.
The neglected hedge in the garden near my bedroom seems to attract the early morning choristers.
Blackbird and whatever else do their best to wake me from my slumber.
Of course being so near to farmland we have the occasional sound of the pheasant on a summer’s teatime.
Or calls of alarm throughout the day.
The intensity of the bird problem can vary from something akin to a Hitchcock film at feeding times to an apparent complete freedom from them.
As a graveyard at times.
Really is a cold morning, will have to recharge my mug and put the fire on.
There seems to somewhat of a crisis in the contact lens business, manufacturers are letting people down left right and centre.
Some retailers have stopped taking orders because they have no idea of expected delivery times.
I’ve just realised I do not understand the figures scribbled on the prescription in front of me and am loath to fill in any on line questions regarding measurements.
Will have to hook up with one of the high street opticians and then reorder on line.
That will be my express vision.
Started of with them oh so many years ago when the first solid lenses were making their appearance in my life.
God they were irritable, the times I’d took them out and put in an ashtray, only to later on forget and stub a cigarette out on them, or the times, even though I was handling ever so carefully they would break and splinter into several pieces.
I took them out like a normal person would change glasses.
If I was laid on sofa listening with eyes shut to sounds.
I’d take them out and put them on the coffee table next to me, thus leaving them vulnerable.
You certainly knew when they had become damaged.
You cannot get a damaged contact lens out of your eye fast enough!
They hurt like hell.
Of course you knew when the solid ones were fucked, they broke.
With the newer water based soft ones you have to look quite closely to find the cause of all that discomfort, often a piece from the rim has broken off, and feels like a huge boulder in your eye.
There’s nothing more satisfying, of course there is, but you understand,
Much satisfaction gained when you screw up a faulty lens which has attempted to hurt you, between finger and thumb.
And yes I have been truly amazed at the resilience of the material of these lens.
On the odd occasion I have been known to miss the storage receptacle and have gone the next day to find a shrivelled up lens draped over the cap of the container.
I know, if handled roughly the remains will simply vanish, so ever so carefully it is lovingly placed in a fresh bath of solution.
Within hours, it is fully restored, pliable, and ready for service.
And did they get some service.
My optician could tell what jobs I’d been doing in the house by analyzing the debris left on my eyeballs.
When were you last plastering? He’d ask.
When I took a week out to sand the front room floor, you could see how much dust and shit was going in my eyes by the amount of dust floating in the lens container liquid.
I went on to dailies during that time, and was more than ready to dispose of them each night and insert a refreshing new one each day.
Only hassle I have ever got is on the very rare occasion a lens refuses to come out, the eyesight is poor so I assume I’ve lost a lens.
Easily done, when rubbing eye.
Trouble is lens isn’t lost, its crumpled up on the eye ball, gradually it makes its presence known by irritating and then you have to spend ages manipulating the eye whilst applying pressure from the finger in an effort to move the dam thing to somewhere you can get a purchase with finger nails.

HONG KONG (Reuters) - A Hong Kong woman who blinded her boyfriend in one eye in a fight six years ago has been jailed for
Jabbing a chopstick into his other eye, a newspaper reported on Wednesday.
Last November, Po Shiu-fong, 58, accused long-time boyfriend Kwok Wai-ming, 49, of having an affair, the South China Morning Post reported.
During the row, Po stabbed a plastic chopstick into his left eye, which she had already blinded six years ago when she poked it with her finger.
"Po became hysterical when she saw the wound and mopped it with a towel.
The pair then went to bed," the paper said.
"The next morning they had another argument in which she grabbed a chopstick
and stabbed Kwok's right eye," it said.

Two days later, he sought medical treatment and filed a police report against Po,
whom he had dated since 1993.
The paper said he didn't report the attack six years ago,
telling the court his silence was "a love sacrifice".
Kwok lost 10 to 20 percent vision in his right eye, the paper said.
Po was jailed for six months on Tuesday.

"If I forgive her, God would not forgive me," the paper quoted Kwok as saying.
"No matter what, nothing could compensate for the loss of my eye."

Why live with a chopstick wielding psycho for so long?
Stories like this tickle me, and I make no excuse for copying the whole article knowing most people are too lazy to follow a link.
Scientists said that a lake in southern Chile that mysteriously disappeared last month developed a crack which allowed the water to drain away.
Just drained away, a lake the size of 12 football pitches, found a crack in the ice wall which was holding it and simply leaked away to follow a route into the next fjord.
Of course global warming is blamed.
http://uk.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUKN0327902920070703
Mr Cameron said Mr Brown's proposal for new ministers for English regions did not answer the so-called West Lothian question about the role of Scottish MPs in English affairs.
"The only effective way to solve this problem is to give MPs in English constituencies the decisive say on issues that affect only England," he said.
But Mr Brown said "English votes for English laws" would create two classes of MPs in the Commons - "some entitled to vote on all issues, some invited to vote on only some" and he would not do anything to "put at risk the Union".

He said his aim was to "agree a new British constitutional settlement that entrusts more power to Parliament and the British people", ensuring that "Government is a better servant of the people".
Words of our leader,
Why does a shiver go down my back when I read it?
Perhaps the use of power and servant in such close proximity.
In reply to Gordon’s call for weekend voting, possibly therefore on a Sunday, a day commonly favoured for voting.
I found the following.

For 'voting at weekends', read 'voting on Sunday'. I suspect that Gordon Brown is trying to introduce a euro - directive intended to persecute Christians here; many other European countries seem to have their elections on Sundays. 'Voting at weekends' is a euphemism for 'attack on Christianity'. A Christian is not permitted to take part in events that cause others to do work, if that work could perfectly easily be left to some other time. Since we have had successful elections on Thursdays for many years, this proves that having them on Sunday is unnecessary, therefore it would be impossible for a Christian to participate in such an election. Even if special arrangements were made for those who didn't actually want to cast their votes on Sunday, nevertheless, Christians would still be unable to vote. The whole issue is whether or not one is participating in an event that causes people to work on Sunday, if the work could just as easily be done at some other time. When shops open on Sundays, I simply avoid using them on Sunday. Voting is different. It is a clear and plain declaration that one is living in a godless society, at enmity with God. It only goes to show that, no matter what his father may have believed, Gordon Brown has proved himself to be godless and God forsaken, by making this suggestion. Of course, he may have concluded that the Christian community is less likely to vote Labour. By pushing them into a position where they cannot participate in the election without blasphemy against God, he ensures that Christians cannot vote and therefore strengthens the position of the Labour party.

What can you say to that?
I’d have probably gone through the rest of my life better for not stumbling upon that reply.
But it did make me stop and take notice so it was successful.

Word of warning for any would be movie downloaders.
http://www.zeropaid.com/news/story.php?id=8877

Here’s another tale for people who use work computers for file sharing.
http://www.zeropaid.com/news/8875/UK+Engineeering+Firm+raided+in+Illegal+File-Sharing+Probe/
Bad news for dementia sufferers and where does the money go?
http://uk.reuters.com/article/domesticNews/idUKL0384082120070704Bad

3 rd July

2007-07-03T13:22:00.000+01:00

Tuesday, 03 July 2007
Have had a good session in bed; back feels a little better for it.
Was a bit of a shock, yesterday, the old man having a heart attack!

Another grey day, got up this morning with the dawning, had a joint and went back to bed till 8.30.
Bought an eight last night, and its not that good.
Have just had one, but very little effect, in way of stone.

His admittance to hospital has brought home to me the seriousness of my own position.
I too have a stent and should not be smoking, will have to try harder and give it up.
I know for a fact if anything happened I’m not fit enough for the op.

Will have to get my head into gear.
I spark.

Cannot understand what has gone wrong with Blogger lately but have been having trouble since 27 th.
Sometimes when I try to log in it just flashes wildly while trying to load, or my details get refused.
Only way I am able to get in is to reclaim old account, reset password and enter through accounts.

There is a slight stone coming on and I take the opportunity to try and release the tension from my neck.
You are never really aware of how much tension there is until you make a concentrated effort to relieve same.

I lay my head against the makeshift head support and slowly move it from side to side but the stiffness refuses to go.
I recline further back and the weight of my body helps to force head into pillow, shoulders relax a little.

Forget the stone, this is what is wanted, pain relief and relaxation.

Scientists have apparently been having problems separating the active compounds of the complicated little leaf known as Cannabis.
I.e. they are struggling to isolate the pain relief properties from the stone.
Looks like and tastes like I’ve just stumbled onto a suitable strain to be a candidate.

I think back to the early years of Cannabis use.
The sessions among friends, long discussions and frequent fits of giggles.
Long hours listening to music and generally having a good crack.

I now seek out its pain relieving properties and am well pleased to enter the chill out zone, at one with oneself. Safe, secure, relaxed, well chilled with sounds.

No doubt, drinkers will be the same.
Memories of being drunk replaced by days of repetitive drinking and conversations about sport.
I didn’t know that regular drinking could be that harmful for the liver.
I didn’t know about the chemicals which alcohol produces and how we need a greater intake over time to produce satisfying amounts of theses chemicals to get any form of buzz.

I look at the old man, lead a quiet, uncomplicated unstressful life, never smoked, and is the one person I know who sticks religiously to the government guidelines for drinking, true he’s also a motorist.
He takes regular exercise in the form of gardening and walking.
In not too overweight.
Yet, has a heart attack.
Wonder what reasons they will come up with?
Probably just wear and tear.

Does some work, the old ticker, pumping tons, yes tons, of blood,
Each day!
Doesn’t half hurt when things go wrong.
I felt as if I was being attacked by people with scaffolding poles, beating my body before forming a steel cage around me and slowly increasing the intensity of the crushing movement.

I’m talking about pain which made me crawl around the room, saying prayers and bouncing my head off the furniture and walls.
Sweating, shivering, convulsing with shocks of pain.
Hanging on, almost at the point of passing out.
Desperately hanging on, trying to fight the pain.
Three hours I fought the pain, several times I thought I was winning but the pain would return with renewed vengeance.

I don’t know if matters were made worse by me having had several joints that day.
My first thought had been I was having a bad reaction to the gear.

Yes it does happen.
Sometimes you have a smoke and it does not agree with you,
Stomach cramps, hot and cold flushes, wanting to puke, dizziness, and nausea combine to punish any movement.
Possible blacking out could then follow.
Intermittent phases of lucidness spent considering the options and deciding to remain still till it wears off.
Because wear off it does, eventually.
So having coped successfully with many white outs,
I thought I was strong enough to fight the pain the day of the heart attack.

Nowhere near strong or capable enough.

I am once reminded of my habit of leaving the keys in the inside lock.
How would anyone gain access in emergency?
Will have to see to that.
I decided to change my habits and leave the keys on the landing.

I have had several nightmares involving the emergency services hacking away at the front door to gain access.

I have the urge to research Franz kappa,
I therefore leave.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franz_Kafka

Only bothered to read about on his stories, the metamorphosis,
He wakes up to find himself transformed into an insect.
Wonder what drugs he was on!

There thunder and bird song sounds playing, I look out of the window, mix of grey and white clouds with a weak sun trying to break through.
Tie in well together.

Neck is moving from side to side with only minimal resistance, a few snaps here and there but nothing like the usual coiled steel rope condition.

I also decided yesterday to place a heart spray , within easy reach of the floor in every room.
So that’s the spray and keys to sort.

May have a look on web to see if there is some gizmo, which would allow my father to alert my mother that all was not well if he was in garden and she was in house.

"Research carried out by the British Lung Foundation found that smoking cannabis alone can cause severe lung damage.
"It is vital that people are fully aware of the dangers so they can make an educated choice and know the risks fully."
Of course it will cause damage similar to that caused by tobacco, it’s an irritant containing thousands of chemicals in smoke form.

Just isolate those chemicals which are beneficial and lets have the best drug since Aspirin available over the counter!
No doubt the research will allow the back street chemists to produce something form the left over constituents to keep the stoners going.

Tobacco control must remain a priority for health funding.
Smoking is a chronic, relapsing, addictive behaviour, and the single largest preventable cause of death and disease.
In England alone over 85,000 smokers die every year because of their habit, and for every one that dies around another twenty are suffering from smoking-related diseases, many of who will go on to die prematurely, losing many years of productive life.

So we want people to live longer and occupy the beds left vacant by the reformed smokers.
No more operations cancelled because hospitals in winter are full of pneumonia cases.

0.4% is the drop in figures of people smoking,
Not good enough says the action groups.
The above is taken from a letter from ASH to the prime minister.

I suppose if enough research come up with sufficient proof of the dangers of Cannabis smoking it may return to a higher level when compared with other social pastimes such as drinking alcohol.

Total funding for a comprehensive tobacco control strategy to reduce smoking prevalence, not including the cost of smuggling initiatives, would be under £250 million a year.
In contrast the Government currently spends £736 million on treatment and prevention on illegal drugs (not including all the crime and enforcement costs of illegal drugs),
Yet it is estimated there are only around 350,000 problem drug users.

Investment in drug treatment alone is increasing from £253 million in 2004/05 to £478 million by 2007/08.
This boost in funding will see the budget of every Drug Action Team increase by around 55% by 2008, to quote,
“Demonstrating the Government's commitment to increasing drug treatment services for all drug users.”
Yet illegal drug use is estimated to cost the health service only around £0.5 million each year.
Compared to the annual cost of smoking-related disease of £1.7 billion.
So is it the stoners or the woodbine warriors which are taking up valuable space in the hospitals?

I in 7 people in the u.k. are affected by lung disease.
Is smoking the cause of lung cancer?In almost all cases, yes. Stopping smoking reduces the risk of lung cancer each year. Passive smoking is a much smaller, but still significant, risk of developing lung cancer.
Please see the Smoking and your Lungs pages on this site for more information.
You may also be interested to read the information about the effects on your lungs of smoking cannabis.

Many young people will make
decisions about whether they
wish to use cannabis or not –
regardless of its legal status.
We
have a duty to ensure that they do
so with full knowledge of the risks
associated with smoking cannabis.

3-4 Cannabis cigarettes a day are associated with
the same evidence of acute and chronic bronchitis
and the same degree of damage to the
bronchial mucosa as 20 or more tobacco cigarettes
a day!
So on a good session you could be smoking the equivalent of 40+ cigarettes.
We do seem to be able to breath a little easier when stoned.

The THC in cannabis has been shown to have a
short term bronchodilator effect. This has lead to
suggestions that THC may have therapeutic benefits
in asthma. However, the noxious gases,
chronic airway irritation or malignancy after long
term use associated with smoking would seem likely
to negate these benefits.

Not only does the tar in a cannabis cigarette contain
many of the same known carcinogens as tobacco
smoke but the concentrations of these are up to
50% higher in the smoke of a cannabis cigarette.
It also deposits four times as much tar on the respiratory
tract as an unfiltered cigarette of equal weight.

The cannabis smoked today is much more
potent that that smoked in the 1960s. The average
cannabis cigarette smoked in the 1960s contained
About 10mg of tetrahydrocanabinol (THC),
the ingredient which accounts for the psychoactive
properties of cannabis, compared to 150mg
of THC today.
So its not the same weed your parents used to toke on.
True the question of overdosing may not come up but I know for a fact that serious mental damage can occur with overuse.
From a clinical perspective the main effects of
smoking cannabis on the lungs are increased risk
of pulmonary infections and respiratory cancers.
Benzpyrene, a known constituent of the tar of
cannabis cigarettes has been shown to promote
alterations in one of the most common tumour
suppressor genes, p53, hence facilitating the
development of respiratory cancer.
Gene p53 is
thought to play a role in 75% of all lung cancers.

More people die of lung cancer in the UK than
from any other cancer – more than 34,000 people
die every year in the UK.
You cannot argue against the basic facts that smoking cannabis and tobacco produces a huge army of unwanted chemicals which are often held 4 or 5 times as long in the lungs, thus giving them all that extra time to cause damage.
The absence of any filter is bound to increase the amount of tar molecules and place a strain on the immune system.
The very composition of the lungs is damaged by some of the smoke components.
You have to realise these reports are solely on cannabis and tobacco.
We are all aware, or should be that there is a lot of debris used as packing materials and some of these are equally potentially harmful.
All in all it’s not a good idea to smoke tobacco.
And smoking cannabis should be seen as something to do occasionally, not an everyday activity, if at all.
Having had cannabis as part of my life for thirty years now I wish there was another way if ingesting it.
I know eating it is an alternative but it doesn’t deliver the same level of THC and has been found to be dangerous as smoking in terms of health problems.
The heavens have opened up, the sky has darkened, and we have to go visiting this afternoon.
I hope the old man is not too mentally damaged by the attack.
I know, following my own serious attack I spent quite a while thinking of life past, present and possibilities for the future.
It was a life changing experience in as much as I made a lot of changes to my life style and my way of thinking was altered.
I suppose anyone who has cheated death has a similar period of reflection.

2 nd July

2007-07-03T09:27:00.000+01:00

Monday, 02 July 2007
8 a.m.
Cloudy and dull start to the day, may brighten up but I doubt it.

I decided to do some revision and spend a couple of hours doing same.
Obviously the course work is boring so deciding today, weather wise is a damp squid, I decided to have a few whiskies and possibly return to bed for a couple of hours.
I had recently seen website regarding old school mates and to be truthful was a little upset.
I’d just finished the last of several whiskies and got a phone call from my mother.
The old man has had a slight heart attack and is in hospital.
I’m fucked, I obviously cannot drive to see him, nor take my mother home.
Fucking typical, I once again am the useless bastard, no good to anyone.

My father?
He sticks religiously to the safe drinking limit, never drinks at home, doesn’t smoke and he keeps active.
I’m sat here having smoked many rollies this morning and devoured nearly half a litre bottle of teachers.

Life’s a bitch and she doesn’t swallow!

There’s me having my last day on the booze and the old man chooses today to have a dicky fit.
Now ,my plan of having a couple of whiskies and returning to bed for the afternoon have been scuppered; how the hell am I supposed to sleep knowing what I know now?
Apparently he’s had his op and is now fitted with a stent.

June 30 th.

2007-07-01T11:30:00.000+01:00

Saturday, 30 June 2007
Got up this morning, just in time to see the sun disappearing for the day as the grey cloud covered the sky, once again.
Really turning out to be a poor month, weather wise.

About one-third of 20-year-old workers today will become disabled before they hit retirement age.
And the primary cause of disability is chronic disease — cardiovascular, musculoskeletal problems and cancer are leading diagnoses — rather than work-related mishaps or non workplace accidents,

While job-related expenses decrease if someone cannot work, other expenses can soar, especially if homes must be altered to accommodate a disability

There are two major types of disability insurance.
Short-term coverage, often offered by employers,
Covers the first part of a disability and may provide income for a week up to a year or two, depending on the policy.
Long-term insurance starts after short-term coverage ends and helps replace income for a predetermined period, usually two or five years or when the disabled person retires.
It can be offered through work — though usually not free —as well as through private policies.

Even those with a policy through work should consider buying private coverage, as an employer’s policy may be bare-bones, could take a while to begin and will not continue when the employee changes jobs.
It may also exclude pre-existing health problems.

Specialists agree that if you can afford only one type of disability insurance,
buy long-term coverage since being without an income for several months would be a burden but being without an income ever again could be devastating.
Because independent disability insurance tends to be expensive — and becomes more so as people age — specialists urge workers to buy it as soon as they start working so they can lock in lower rates.

Besides, young workers often have not yet developed health problems that will hinder coverage later.
The policy should replace at least 60 percent of take-home salary and ideally up to 80 percent,
if that level of coverage is affordable.
Disability insurance will not cover the whole salary for fear that there would be no incentive to work if the entire pay check could be collected for staying home
Plans vary.
Some pay if someone is unable to work in her own professions; others pay if a person cannot do any job,

2007-07-01T08:57:00.000+01:00

Sunday, 01 July 2007
As Britain goes smoke free another month opens its doors.
Weather, same as, dull, grey, and disappointing.

Smokers across England, have sparked up at work and in the pub for the last time as the ban on smoking in enclosed public places begin.

Doctors estimate second-hand smoke kills more than 600 people a year.

The government also hopes it will help smokers to quit,
and discourage children from taking up the habit.

Market researchers Nielsen estimate beer sales in England and Wales could drop by 200 million pints each year because of the ban.

However, a survey by the Campaign for Real Ale suggested
England's 6.2 million regular drinkers are likely to go out to pubs and bars more often after the ban.

Its study also found that 840,000 people who currently do not go to the pub said they would do so after smoking was made illegal.

Mark Hastings, communications director of the British Beer and Pub Association, said that although the ban may lead to a small decline in beer sales, pubs would also see an increase in the sale of food.

6.2 Million regular drinkers! That’s a lot.
Britain is on a dangerous drinking binge which is claiming lives and causing increasing damage to adults and children.

Hospital admissions related to excessive drinking have more than doubled in the past 10 years and those involving under-16s have risen by a third.

The NHS Information Centre said there were 187,000 hospital admissions for alcohol-related conditions in 2005-06 compared with 89,000 in 1995-96.
Of these, 5,280 were children under 16 who needed hospital treatment after becoming dangerously drunk, compared with 3,870 a decade ago.

In 2005, 6,570 people died directly because of excessive drinking.

"Any problem in society today we either want to tax it or ban it out of existence.
BMA, Barmy Motherly Attitude,"

The recommended limits of alcohol consumption are 2-3 units per day for women and 3-4 units for men.
In standard UK pub measures a unit is half a pint of ordinary beer or lager, a third of a pint of strong brew, a small glass of table wine, one glass of sherry or a single whisky.

The limits were changed to a daily dose when doctors realised many people's interpretation of the weekly limits was that if they saved all their units up for Friday night they'd still be OK.
In fact, binge drinking is thought to have serious long-term health impacts although this form of drinking has been less well studied.

The long-term toll of heavy drinking is serious and the NHS estimates it spends £164m a year treating alcohol-related conditions.
One of the most serious consequences is for the liver.
In response to long-term alcohol exposure it starts producing more alcohol dehydrogenase, the enzyme which it uses to break ethanol down.

This means, you need more alcohol for the same effect.
This worsens the addiction.
The liver then becomes over-active, cells die and the tissue hardens.
The result is cirrhosis of the liver.
Other risks of long-term drinking include heart disease, stroke, dementia and brain damage, myopathy - a weakening of the muscles - and shrivelled sex organs.
Cancers related to alcohol include those of the liver, colon, rectum and breast cancer in women.
ANTABUSE®(Disulfiram, USP)250-mg tablets
These tablets have been used to treat chronic cases.
In brief they lower the tolerance level and induce vomiting if alcohol is ingested.

I used to be a big drinker, later becoming a daily drinker.
I laid off the booze in as much as I stopped drinking every day and now find that even small amounts of alcohol make me want to puke.
Not worried because I think the condition has saved me from contracting alcohol related problems saved me money and effectively removed me from a circle of society I wasn’t really enjoying.

So we have a smoking ban to save us from ourselves yet alcohol is still accepted as a social drug knowing full well it will kill many more people than smoking ever does!

Another ban;
In Uganda After a fair amount of stalling, the government has just announced that from 1 July the manufacture, import and use of plastic bags thinner than 30 microns will be banned.
All other polythene will be subject to a whopping 120% tax.

I’ve tried to get some answers on Blogger help, apparently a lot of us are unable to see any new posts upon our sites, and some people are getting a tad annoyed.

Had a look at the ten-day weather forecast, only one day free from showers!
What has happened to the summer this year?
I for one was looking forward to the uplifting sight of at least some sunshine.

Picture is a view of a room at the Kandovan cliff hotel in the village of Kandovan,
(400 miles) northwest of Tehran,

Whole village is carved out of the mountain.

An aggressive squirrel attacked and injured three people in a German town before a 72-year-old pensioner dispatched the rampaging animal with his crutchNot an everyday occurrence.

A Nigerian school has received a gift of 300 laptops -- one per pupil -- but has no electricity to power them up,
Electricity is indeed a big problem in Nigeria, the world's sixth largest exporter of crude oil.
Electricity is provided mainly in the cities and even there the service is at best erratic.
Most homes and private businesses rely on generators.
The plan is to provide laptops to all pupils at 100 dollars by 2008, as a way of ensuring the penetration of information and communication technology in developing countries.

June 30, 2007.
U.S .-led coalition air strikes on a village in Helmand province, south of Kabul, Afghanistan on Saturday,
The air strikes in southern Afghanistan left at least 30 people, including women and children, killed or wounded,

Frozen peas could go up in price because the UK harvest has been hit by the downpours, growers warned. Up to 25% of this summer's harvest could be lost because of the heavy rains,
Wonder what other foodstuffs will get a price hike?

29 th june

2007-06-29T18:34:00.000+01:00

Friday, 29 June 2007

Another lousy day weather wise, clouds are forming now, looks like will be downpours for this afternoon.

Blogger is down, has been for a couple of days.
Lots of annoyed people.

I finally got my arse into gear and tidied three out the four rooms up.
Today I pay; back pain returns with a vengeance.

Spent most of day reading several editions of private Eye, had myself a nice meal followed by a bath.
Feel almost human.

Or as human as one can feel after having one’s eyes opened to the ridiculous amounts of money being wasted by our Government.
Billions wasted.
Relationships exist among people in power which would not be tolerated in
“ Real life” on the streets.
Out and out Fraudsters, siphoning off monies which could have been used better elsewhere.
Mis-use of office for personal and company gains.
Blatant use of tax loopholes, many created recently by Gordon himself, to defraud the coffers of billions in revenue.
Blatant theft.

It’s another world, a world in which convicted fraudsters can be reemployed in positions which in real life would have been totally unaccessable.

Figures manipulated, expected costs changed to suit, often with the main purpose of keeping the electorate from ever asking questions.
They all piss in the same pot and eat out of the same trough, sharing spoils and paying unwarranted bonuses for proven failure.

I now remember why I have no faith or interest in the Government of this country.
Notice how I use the term this and not my.
There is no way on earth the government of today has any interest in the welfare of the majority.
O.K. perhaps I have been naïve in thinking it ever had the purpose of serving the population, but I suspect a lot of people do genuinely believe that these people are equipped to run the country and look after the financial affairs.
I for one do not.

There will be some among you, who will scoff at the likes of me, turning towards a publication like the eye for research.
Where is there to turn?
Who else is going to plainly describe the antics of some of the self centred people, corporations, and government departments.
Who else will describe how Tony has been mis fed information and taken drastic action after being told misinformation?
Where else will the scheming behind the government’s actions be explained?

I tire.

2007-06-28T13:57:00.000+01:00

28 June 2007
Have had a brilliant sleep, up at 11.30.
First job of morning, shop, baccy, milk, then dustbin out.

Today, we have sunshine; the sky is still grey and overcast but at least the sun is shining and I presume there will be a lot of people glad of that fact.
There has been a lot of damage done by the recent rains and there is still a lot more to come down.
Farmers and householders alike will be praying the rain clouds will pass over and give them some respite.

After a gap of 17 hours without baccy, the stomach is churning and lapping up the intake.
Bloody tinnitus is loud again, but on a lighter note, at least the Internet radio is back on.

I really shouldn’t have got the baccy, do not feel better for having a couple of smokes.
Today is to be a day of action and all those jobs that have been waiting in the wings will be dealt with.
Hopefully.

Checked my lottery tickets, two numbers so no luck there.
E. Mail sorted. Confirmation of contact lens order, hope the planned postal strike will not delay the arrival too much.

Must have been in a bit of a rush yesterday, I forgot to publish the prepared post, no problems, on site now.

Nice to have sounds back, amazing how you miss something you have taken for granted for so long.

I know that the Southerners think we all go round wearing a flat cap with a whippet at our sides, eating black pudding.
Just to prove it we are unveiling a new statue to one of our local heroes in print.

A statue of flat cap northern anti-hero Andy Capp is unveiled in his Hartlepool hometown today.
The cartoon strip character will come to three-dimensional life in the form of a 5ft high bronze statue to be unveiled on the Headland.
The effigy of the loveable rascal - who has entertained generations since he first appeared in the Daily Mirror in 1957 - will be unveiled on the seafront near the Harbour of the Refuge pub by Jean Smythe, widow of Andy Capp's creator,
local man Reg Smythe.

I was brought up with Andy Capp and his wife Flo.
As I said earlier the only newspaper allowed in our house was the Daily mirror and Andy featured daily.
The portrayal of the typical couple, he laid on the sofa or in the pub, she struggling to keep the house tidy, and the bills paid.
The constant struggle with poverty and male chauvinism kept Flo very busy indeed.
Almost daily the lines of the cartoon could be heard in the conversations of the folk of the village.

I note my parents have just this year stopped getting the newspaper delivered, after being a regular for over 50 years.
My father now uses teletext and his frequent attention to the various news channels to keep abreast of any worthwhile stories and sports reports.

The week so far has travelled by at a reasonable speed, soon the weekend will close the curtain, and another week will come towards me to challenge.

I must be sleeping better lately, for I cannot think of another reason why I should be getting this degree of pain relief.
The muscle groups of the lower back relax only during good quality sleep and that is what I must be getting.
I have not attempted to improve the sleep save for waiting till I’m very tired or going to bed when I feel the need.
For example I had an hour’s sleep yesterday tea time from 6-7 and I believe if you take advantage of an hour or so when your body is telling you it needs a nap, must be beneficial.
I did realise a few nights ago that my usual sleeping position involved fists being clenched and some muscle groups being permanently tense.
I changed positions and finally adopted more relaxed postures which may have helped.

Whatever the reason, I’m grateful for the respite.

When you have learnt to live with pain24/7 you obviously fail to think about its presence until it becomes noticeable by its removal or partial alleviation.

What a bloody idiot I am.
I thought the time was 11.30 when I got up,
Apparently the battery has run out and it is in fact only ten to ten!
Should have realised last night when the alarm was barely audible.
Not bad though the battery has lasted since Christmas, god knows how long the clock was in the shop.
Hope father has a replacement; he will undoubtedly have a sheet of those cheap batteries off the market.

I feel more, relaxed knowing I have indeed time on my hands.
Another cuppa, with REAL milk is called for.

I boosted the electric this morning and now have £15 to last me.
Meter does seem to be running down quite quickly lately despite all my best efforts to save as much as possible.
Fridge, freezer, kettle, computer, and monitor are daily users, with occasional use of microwave; grill being only other major consumers.
Limited use of hoover and washer will do little to increase my “carbon footprint.”

As he got away with taking us to the cleaners as Chancellor, I worry that he will be even worse as P.M.He should do the decent thing and call an early Election, to prove or not whether he has a mandate.
If he wins we only have ourselves to blame.
Let the people speak!
A J Cook, Sherborne

Perhaps the people have got too apathetic when it comes to politics and simply want to be left alone to live their lives and let the other proportion of the country which we seem powerless to control get on with whatever they do to warrant the huge payments.
I suppose he will be to busy re decorating and spending time celebrating to hit us with any tax hikes for a while.

Neil R,from Stevenage, UK says

Don't bother wasting taxpayers money by getting Nº10 redecorated.
David Cameron will be doing that when he moves in after the next general election.

The person on the streets or trying to eke out a living for themselves and look after their families on the council estates have more to worry about than any potential threats from “our new leader”.

jennyleoni, from Milton Keynes tells him to,
Be fair and open with the electorateNo more cronyismPut our country and it's people first by not allowing them,
To become second-class citizens in their own countryDeport those that should not be hereTighten our border controlsFly our national flags, to show our pride in our country..............For starters.............

Perhaps too late.

I am still a little confused as to how he even got the position without unveiling any plans or having the support of the electorate.
But saying that, what is the alternative?

I had my political head on a couple of days ago and that is sufficient for me.
Their lives and the rules governing same are so remote from the average Joe as to be almost unbelievable.

He will no doubt follow his pal Tony, serve his time, and make his millions from contacts gained.

All I would ask is for him to think very seriously about adopting any more American ideas.
Our education, national health, and security will not be improved by any Americanisation thank you.
Forget I.D. cards and put the money into where it is needed.
He will have only a short time to get the people behind him sort out the bloody mess Britain is in both at home and abroad.

If he is going to allow the flow of people into our country to continue unchecked,
Then give some incentive to the increasing amount of people who would like to get out and live abroad.
Give the retired and elderly something to look forward to in their latter lives.
Stop penalising anyone who has been frugal and saved a couple of bob.
Plug the loopholes used by the rich and punish those who have used same.
Punish improper behaviour among his ranks by removing their right to office, any office.

We are all aware that the population is changing, people are living longer, many are working longer remaining active; he will have to start to listen to this growing “voice.”
· Personal security;
Families and individuals need a safer environment. People need to feel safer on the streets and in their homes.
· Social stability;
Communities and regions need assistance to grow and mature.
· Better care;
We need more health workers and less managers. Less paper work, statistics, and league tables and more “ground workers.”
· Law enforcement;
Allow the police to concentrate upon the problems of the people in and around their homes not merely to safeguard the premises of businesses.
There are enough CCTV cameras in the streets and in pubs etc. make the owners more accountable for the actions of their customers.
· Education;
Stop pressurising the children until there are sufficient opportunities available, or until there are concrete plans for the future of Britain laid down.
· Transport;
Allow the rail network to increase by private funding, if the supermarkets are going to be allowed to continue to mushroom make them use private rail for transportation of goods to delivery/supply centres.
Use congestion charges but make sure any tolls are collectable.
· Agriculture;
Stop strangling the farmers with red tape.
· Expenditure;
Stop wasting millions on useless fucking enquiries which drag on forever and fail to provide solutions.
· Justice;
Stop the use of valuable court time by rich individuals trying to sue each other for trivialities.
· Stop wasting Lottery funds on projects which benefit only minorities of selected communities. It is easy to calculate how much each area has contributed to the lottery, have these sums redistributed to same area.
It is not simply an endless pit of money, into which anyone can dip into.
· Make the financial details of anyone employed in local or central government available for public scrutiny.

I fear it may too late to listen to the people because most have simply given up any thoughts of being heard.
We go about our daily lives and see many things which anger us but simply accept them as being part of life and resign ourselves to the fact
”There’s nothing we can do about it.”

The apathy party has indeed become more prevalent these last couple of decades.

A vision of prosperity, security, environmental protection, and human rights,
This British vision is also a European vision, so lets get our financial security sorted out, embrace the monetary system, and get ourselves into the role of being an active partner.
We are no longer simply an island, we have to become part of a global community, and once we accept that, then perhaps the rantings of politicians in London about the rights and wrongs of fox hunting will be replaced with more meaningful discussions.

“The EU was meant to bring us a golden future, but instead it has brought us stagnation, unemployment and social discontent” has become a familiar refrain.
What is worse, lest we abandon our relentless pessimism, our eternally optimistic American friends excel at reminding us that they are richer, enjoy faster growth with lower unemployment and are generally better off in every way.

Lots of sensible folk buy into this story; but is it borne out by the facts?
The right answer is not a simple yes or no,

The main reason the US is richer is because, first, a higher proportion of Americans are in employment and, secondly, they work about 20 per cent more hours per year than Europeans.
When we look at GDP in 2005 per person per hour worked, there is virtually no difference between Germany, France, and the US.

Economists often speak of this as revealing different American and European social preferences for work and leisure.
In truth, both the employment rate and how long the average person works are explained mainly by political history.
Until the late 1970s total hours worked was falling in Europe and in the USA; since then, total hours worked have continued to fall in the EU-15 but have risen again in the US.
Equally, if we look at employment data by age group,
Americans join the work force earlier and leave it far later than Europeans.
The key to understanding why this has happened is the change in US income distribution over the past 30 years.

Since 1979, the bottom 40 per cent of income earners in the US has been treading water while the bottom 20 per cent has become poorer.
US workers have needed to put in more years and longer hours simply to maintain their real income position.

Comparing the economic performance of the European Union and the USA does not lead one to conclude that America has the more dynamic economy, or that it has performed better in the past or will do so in future.
The most crucial feature of the comparison’ is neither the growth nor the unemployment record of the US and the EU.
It is, rather, that US growth, unlike that in the EU, is funded by a dangerously high mountain of foreign debt.
US external indebtedness in turn is driven by the US house price bubble, enabling US consumers to spend more than they earn.
Ironically, the EU continues to lend the money to the US which keeps their households spending and their economy growing.

We all know the dangers of debt and living beyond our means, or at least the older members of society do because they were brought up that way by frugal parents.

I also see no reason for the long recesses which government enjoys; these people are there to serve and in return for the huge amounts of money they receive should be seen to put in the hours.

You wouldn’t expect any college student to be allowed to continue with their studies if they were regularly missing classes so why do some M.P.s seem to get away with only attending a small proportion of their expected duties?
And, still get paid.
(I am not singling out Mr brown but his previous attendance record was poor).

Government.
(From the Greek Κυβερνήτης kubernites - steersman, governor, pilot, or rudder)
Is an organization that has the power to make and enforce laws for a certain territory.
There are several definitions on what exactly constitutes a government. In its broadest sense, "govern" means the power to administrate, whether over an area of land, a set group of people, or an association.

Ministers are appointed on the advice of the Prime Minister, usually from among the Members of Parliament belonging to the political party commanding the majority of seats in the House.
Together with the Prime Minister, they form the Cabinet.
Each Minister will usually head a ministry and he will be accountable to Parliament for the policies and programmes of that ministry. ...

Not accountable to the public, but to parliament.
Perhaps that’s where we are going wrong?

I wonder how a representative would feel if a member of the public was watching their every move, shadowing them, and providing feedback to the electors, not spin, just plain feedback.

We could start at community level with councillors and local M.P.s.

With electronic technology there is surely more avenues for the ordinary person in the street to air views about their immediate community,
Offer suggestions and point out areas of growing concern.

I remember some politician saying, “prevention is better, and cheaper than cure.”
For that to be true then problems surely have to be highlighted and nipped in the bud not left to fester unattended until they become big enough to warrant attention.
After all it is the person stood at the bus stop, who notices the disabled person failing to negotiate the pavement.
Residents being harassed into thinking green, notice the streetlights which never seem to turn off, they know which dark, dangerous walkways would benefit from being lit.
Which off licensees are supplying the groups of underage drinkers.
Which parking spaces are being abused, often by non residents.
How far do you go?
We all know of someone working on the side, selling smuggled or knocked off goods, or selling drugs.
We are aware of the minority who create havoc.

But the majority feeling they have no real power to influence, simply carry on and live their lives the best they can.
Making the best hand out of the cards dealt to them.
Possibly hoping for better times, which rarely materialise.

There used to be a phrase,
Civic pride; pride in your surrounding area.
Not used very often nowadays.

As more and more communities are swallowed up by the encroachment of larger neighbourhoods peoples’ sense of civic pride disappears as the problems of the neighbourhood grow with such amalgamations.

The recent threat of closure of many Post Offices has hit the news.
Smaller offices are simply not viable,
Does that mean the larger offices in towns and cities are making profit?
Then these profits should be ploughed in to support the smaller agents, surely.

Many smaller communities have seen their amenities eroded, transport links subjected to cuts; small businesses disappear, jobs become scarce, the area becomes another target for property speculators, green belt land becoming nothing more than parking areas and eventually the heart of the community is torn out.

Lets go back centuries, the businessmen started an industry and showed faith in its future by providing housing and amenities for the workforce.

The Irish have taken advantage of grants and seen their land divided up into plots, individuals building their homes on a predetermined size of plot.
I only hope our countryside will not suffer a similar fate.

I of course mention countryside, yet the politicians live in the metropolis.

“The capitol, the largest, or the most important city of a country. “
I think many of them forget there is life struggling outside the city limits.

CBI's press conference results were extremely interesting.
In short, demand and output continue to contract, especially for export; there is little sign of improvement in coming months; job cuts are accelerating sharply; and investment cuts are spreading to innovation and training.
'Manufacturers are really under the cosh, with many cutting prices sharply in order to keep customers.
So far, exporters have been worst hit, but the knock-on effect of job cuts will slow consumer spending and weaken the less downbeat domestic market.'

'Well, they can no longer blame the unions!'

The Government should decide whether it wanted a manufacturing sector or not, because 'in the short term industry is bleeding to death'.

Does our future lie in services?
According to some it does.

News from the British Chambers of Commerce that the damage was spreading to this sector as export sales plummeted in the last quarter and domestic service activity slid, as did investment.

The above is brought to you by,
“Have I got old news for you,”
it is five years old, yet seems to be relevant today.

Someone once said, you learn by the mistakes of others, so take notice of the mistakes of others because you will not have enough time to make them all yourself.
Perhaps that is Gordon’s plan.
He’s been around long enough, been involved with the financial side of the country and therefore should have sufficient knowledge to make plans for the future.
I hope so.

Even though he is the “superman” living in the metropolis his policies and decisions will have knock on effects upon every household in the land as they did when he was chancellor.Lets hope he makes the right ones not just for London but for the rest of the country.

27 th June.

2007-06-27T15:19:00.000+01:00

27 June 2007
had a bit of a shock when the date displayed Friday, 27th, then I realised it had progressed to July, don’t know how.
Simply fixed from clock.

Internet radio is once again off line, annoying.
Am having to listen to some discs I compiled a few years ago, not really what I would have liked but sounds are sounds.

If you do not find an intelligent companion, a wise and well-behaved person going the same way as yourself, then go on your way alone, like a king abandoning a conquered kingdom, or like a great elephant in the deep forest. – Buddha

I have joined a dating agency for the 50+ will see what is on offer.

I spent a couple of hours trying to find some disabled friendly accommodation and only came up with one suitable place, a nice cottage several miles away from where I’d wanted to be but it did have its own private fishing pond, which would have suited me but my companion being a lady of the shops would probably be bored sick; perhaps phoning her wasn’t that bright an idea!

Today is another grey dull day with little prospect of improving.
Fucking tinnitus is really giving some jip!

I was poorly last night, reduced to vomiting down the toilet.
Was it the three pints of beer or perhaps the steak pie or the mix of the two?
Who knows?
I feel better this a.m.

Pain is still at a lower than usual level.

Father phoned last night; we were going to do some fencing in his garden but apparently the conditions are just a bit too sticky so we have postponed till next week.
I am glad.

When, on the odd occasions the pain does relent one has to decide carefully what activity to do, you have to create a balance and try not to antagonise in case the pain returns with vengeance.

I will have an hour on course work; do practise tests.
Just hope I can concentrate with the tinnitus, it really is a bitch this morning!

Is repetitive action virtuous action?
If behaviour and conduct are merely repetitive processes then all human relationships actually cease.
If I behave mechanically every day, - repeating a certain code of conduct which I have learnt, which I find profitable, or which is pleasant,
Repeating that over and over again, - my relationship with you ceases, completely - I have become a machine. - J. Krishnamurti

The sun makes yet another attempt to break through the cloud cover as the clock rests on noon.
I receive a phone call from the holiday company telling me the owner is willing to upgrade my accommodation if I agree.
I sadly had to make an excuse and put them off.

Hell, what is the point of going on holiday when most of the country is experiencing similar weather?
I looked at the 10 day forecast for Skegness and for this area and, yes, its rain most days.

I looked at the practise tests for the course and see no great problems; just haven’t the patience to revise so will leave live test till next week.

Am in a strange mood today, perhaps because of loss of usual accompanying sounds, perhaps the weather has a part to play.
I am feeling lethargic and irritable,(Tinnitus!).

So we have had almost a month of rain and there is more forecast for the first half of next month.

I’m in the mood to just get drunk and return to bed!
I’m listening to Spike telling of how he began in “show business” whilst serving his country.

I’m going to see if the dealer has anything in.
No joy.
I took his post up to him; he seems unable to get his back off the fucking sofa.
He opened a letter and showed me he is nearly £300 in rent arrears!

US stun gun maker Taser is unveiling a sleeker version of its controversial weapon aimed at safety and fashion conscious members of the public.
Available in pink, blue, silver, and black, the gun fits into a handbag like a mobile phone. It will be launched at a Las Vegas electronics fair on Monday.

Taser guns temporarily incapacitate a target with up to 50,000 volts.
Critics have linked their use to dozens of deaths,
but Taser says they save lives by reducing the use of firearms.
The gun has however been at the centre of fresh controversy this weekend over the death of a man in Florida after police used a Taser to subdue him.
Its use by police in the UK has also sparked debate.
Late last year a man in the north of the country died three days after being shot with a Taser.
As someone with a “dodgy” ticker, should I be alarmed?

Eight out of 10 police think all officers on frontline duties should be issued with electronic Taser stun guns,
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6240659.stm

The gun was used for the first time by North Wales Police in Wrexham last June.
They used it on a dog after receiving calls from concerned residents living in Tanyfron, near Wrexham.
The weapon was used for the first time on a man in Rhyl in August.
He was hit with the gun three times.

The air Taser gun looks like a pistol but uses compressed air to fire two darts that trail electric cable back to the handset.
When the darts strike, a five-second 50,000-volt charge is released down the cable, causing the suspect's muscles to contract uncontrollably.
The Taser causes temporary paralysis and research suggests there is little permanent risk to health.
A laser helps target the suspect and the Taser works at ranges up to 21ft.

Just ordered myself a few pairs of contact lenses have been without for a few weeks now and are missing them!
Cost? Online, a third of price optician charges.

What are the next moves from the record industry?
http://www.rollingstone.com/news/story/15152483/the_fall_of_the_record_business_what_next?source=music_news_rssfeed

What we call 'Progress' is the exchange of one nuisance for another nuisance. - Havelock Ellis

So, three of the clock approaches and I’m bored sick.

Had my limit for today, in terms of alcoholic beverage.
Recommended limit that is!

Am down to last dregs of tobacco, so today is coming to a rapid close.

Acid is burning my stomach and I haven’t really drunk enough to allow me to sleep over the sound of the gardeners outside shredding some of the undergrowth from the end of the lane.
I would normally go and ask if I could have the chippings but knowing the strictness of work policies nowadays, I decide not to.

I suspect I may have caught a chill, I have been sneezing and feeling snotty for a few days now.
Only person I can blame is a guy who was in the pub yesterday, he has been using a nicotine inhaler for years now and seems to have a permanent cold.
Since 1990, silver demand has exceeded annual production. Above ground stockpiles of silver bullion are declining so extremely that they are approaching zero. There isn't a better time to buy than now!Gold and other precious metals are equally valuable, with American eagle gold coins available in units of 10 one-ounce coins (personal delivery only). The gold price is very good also. Many analysts have cited that they believe silver (silver coins in particular) present outstanding investment opportunities.

Stand up with a twist, watch josh Blue,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YbMg1dLYqg8&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Fwineandshine%2Eblogspot%2Ecom%2F

2007-06-26T11:19:00.000+01:00

26/06/07
Up at 10.30, having had a bloody good sleep.
Don’t know how I managed it, there was Tinnitus ringing in one ear and the sound of the wind roaring outside in the other,
This morning is dry and windy for now but I think the rain won’t be far away.

Today is a rare day, rare indeed, well worthy of being noted.
Occasionally, for no discernable reason, someone decides to give me a special day.
A day to relish, to remember better times, and enjoy for as long as it lasts.
True the tinnitus has been ringing full volume for the last three days but even that cannot spoil the significance of such a day.
There is no prior warning of such a day coming, it simply arrives wit the dawn.

I notice last night, I was breathing better, I had several different sleeping positions to choose from and seems I made the right choice.
I wake up this morning feeling almost “normal.”

I haven’t talked to others who are in the same boat as me, suffering with pain 24/7, but I hope there are some, at least, who are able to experience something similar in their lives.

Today is deemed a special day because,
I am relatively pain free!
Almost normal.

This is probably first time in perhaps 10 months.
These days are very rare, and great care is needed to get the most from each.

I cannot describe how it feels to get out of bed, make a cuppa, as usual, and sit down without some aspect of pain being registered.

O.K. the old knee will still go in and out of joint but the point is there is no pain whatsoever in my neck and my lower back has called a truce.

I can turn my head from side to side as fast as I choose; I can hear the movement but the usual steel wire tension sensation has gone and movement if free.
I’m taking care to keep my head against the makeshift headrest, doing all I can to preserve the favourable feeling.

It really is a great feeling, almost euphoric.
To be relatively free from pain.

I take note of every movement and every muscle is monitored to make sure I do nothing to antagonise any muscle sets and spoil the feeling.

Now I have to decide what to do, to get the most out of such a day.

I do have some business to attend to in the village, so would be well advised to get that out of the way before the rain returns.
Will doubly make sense if, weather permitting my Father needs my assistance in his garden tomorrow.

Sunshine comes through the window and spotlights the emerging peppers on the plant.
I will have to make the most of today and try to get done, all the things I’ve been putting off.
For it is on these rare days that my life is generally pulled together and any frayed edges cut away.

I honestly could shout with the inner feeling of relief, such is the power of such a day; first time this year.

I could sit and try to figure out why I feel as good as I do, but I learnt a long time ago, just accept it and make the most of it.
What a change!
Within the last few minutes a huge swathe of blue sky has appeared and the oppressive grey clouds have been replaced with less hostile white ones.

I feel well and I have lots of things to be done so I will get through as much as possible.
Because one can never know how long this feeling will last.

Bit of a bugger like that, never know when it is going to happen or how long it will last!
In the old days I would have gardening or maintenance jobs lined up waiting for the arrival of such a day.
Now I simply have several jobs which need doing in the flat.
Successful completion of which will make me feel better so I’m potentially on a win, win day.

I think of a pint of my favourite beer, a steak pie from my favourite butchers and perhaps a smoke before returning to do the domestic chores.
The above would involve me getting a shave and making some effort to make myself presentable.
Or I could stay in and try to keep away from the temptation of the baccy.

I’m reminded I am actually arrears with my rent and haven’t been able to find my rent payment card.
I will have a quick look before venturing out.

Quick tidy up, found card, scraped razor over face and out.
Business done, called into second hand shop and came across a bargain in men’s wear, brand new pair of trackie bottoms, cotton essentials or whatever.
Went to post office but noticed a couple of houseplants for sale.
Called back into seckie shop and bought two houseplants which would have cost about £10 in a florists, bloody plates they were stood on were worth the money.

Am annoyed, the radio station has gone of the air, in as much as they are simply transmitting woe for falling beside the wayside, they cannot afford the royalty charges.
Apparently today is a day of silence.

I took the shopping back to the car, buying a steak pie on the way.
Got settled in pub and had a bit of crack with a couple of people I know.
Perhaps enjoyed the Tetley’s Imperial too much so went to supermarket for a bottle of vodka.

Obviously I cracked and bought baccy, but heel, I am supposed to be enjoying the day.
The good feeling didn’t last as long as expected, returning from the post office the back pain came back on.
That’s life!

Taking the opportunity to dodge yet another shower of rain I returned home.

Do not understand why but I rang my ex-partner and asked if she fancied a week’s break in Skegness,( I fancy a couple of days fishing).
She said yes and told me she had sufficient funds but she was unable to tackle even one stair or step.
Walking no problem, just steps.
The clubs I use all have ramps so all I have to do now is find some accommodation for us.

Why did I choose her?
I have no idea; perhaps because we know each other, we both like dope and a little tipple.
Perhaps someone just to share the experience.

Typical, now is the best time of the day, but me, realising it is Tuesday and therefore a crap day TV wise, am planning to have a couple of drinks and an early night.

I look at the treetops, the breeze has completely fallen away, and it looks quite nice now outside.
Undeterred, I continue with my drink and plan to have a short day.

I will however have to turn the fire back off!

Why should I choose to ask an ex-partner of 20+ years, troubled with mobility problems and wearing a piss bag to accompany me?
Jury is still out, but probably because that person knows me better than anyone else in the world.
I will do my best to secure us some accomadation.

2007-06-25T18:46:00.000+01:00

25 Jun. 07

Sat up, till the early hours of the morning watching Poker.
At one time in my working life, cards was a huge part of my life,
I was taking home more money from playing cards than I was actually working and therefore ended up with a large pile of unopened wage packets on the bedroom mantle piece.
I’d play during the shift at work, often accepting a double shift to allow me to target more opposition.
I’d play at night times in the pubs in the surrounding villages and had my own Saturday afternoon/night game at home.
I played brag and pontoon as well as several other filler games in between.

I enjoy watching the game, seeing risky strategies come good and flamboyant play getting penalised.

Having gone to bed with the dawn.
Nearest I’ve managed to come to having female company in the bed in the last 12 months.
I was unable to sleep.
I often find if I stay up late I seem to get a “second wind”, and I felt more alive when I went to bed than I’d been when I’d got up some16 hours previously.

My mind was actively pursuing all aspects of a hypothetical, conference which apparently needed to be planned prior to a successful sales pitch.
I seemed to have been in this particular dream the length of the stay in bed and was dreaming right up till the moment I opened my eyes.

I woke up at 11.30 feeling shattered.
As one does following such a night of brain activity.

I could have been forgiven in believing that today was a Winter’s morning.
It is raining, a dark oppressive sky is centre stage, and there is a brisk, cold Northerly wind blowing.
Not a day to be thinking of venturing out.

I look at my post; junk mail offering cheap car insurance and yet another credit card.

The room is cold; I can hear the wind in the chimney and feel the colder for that.

It really is a miserable day and being deprived of a restful night’s sleep I feel deflated and have little energy.

The tops of the trees are well bent over with the force of the wind, so much for the British summer, although, saying that I assume that most of the neighbouring countries will be similarly affected.

What, if anything, to do today.
There is of course, the obvious task of unpacking plus the household chores and even a couple of practise tests for my course work.
Plenty of options to keep me occupied.
If I was in the mood.

I return to the word, deflated.
I cannot understand why I should feel thus, unless it is a direct result of my sensing that the writing project had come to an acceptable ending.

For whatever reasons, my batteries are flat.
I cannot blame the medication because I chose not to take one when I retired this morning,
If I had, I would no doubt still be asleep.

I am having to type with the lamp on; not ideal conditions.

I take a quick walk through some of the local news and apparently we have had at least two tornado sightings in the area during the recent bad weather.
Apart from that, all seems peaceful,
Save for the fact that a local landscape gardener was found to have nearly half a million quid’s worth of cocaine in his possession.
Hope he is prepared for his stay in prison.

The long-term weather forecast predicts an improvement and highlights today as being the worst day of the week.
Not a nice day to be starting the working week!

I pity the farmers who will undoubtedly be getting anxious over the well being of their crops.
I remember hearing a news report while on holiday,
The farmers were saying the exceptional rainfall had damaged yields, they feared they would be unable to keep up with supermarket demands,
Which invariably will mean higher prices.

I made myself a cup of tea and realised I’d reached the reserve of tea bags which normally remain hidden beneath better quality ones.
You know the ones, 50 pence for 200 or so, and taste like cat’s piss.
I have made myself a coffee and it tastes like diluted road tar.

How I wish I could find a suitable beverage.

I have opened the window to get rid of the smell of the smoke,
The incoming breeze chills even further as the mist rolls over the fields and approaches the buildings of the close.

So, in short, I’m cold, hungry, tired, depressed, pissed off, lethargic, But not angry.

I picked up my art materials yesterday, not a lot survived my impromptu clear out.
All the brushes are there, as is a couple of watercolour sets and oil pastels, some tubes of acrylics have survived but no oil paints.
I had wanted to do an abstract in oil but will have to use the brighter acrylics instead.
I’m unsure if the wall will be able to carry a large bright abstract, time will tell.
I’m not talking wildly abstract, just pure, defining black lines with pockets of bright colours attached.
I’ve seen something like what I want to do but will have to spend a few hours with a computer painting program before committing paint to canvas.

Another project,
Hope the trick cyclist isn’t reading this or I will be deemed to be in yet another episode and who knows may lose my liberty once again.

To be honest I could do with being sectioned again, just till the nice weather returns.
I joke of course.
But to be fair, own room, comfortable bed, warm surroundings, and three meals a day and entertainment everywhere you turn,
If you are aware of it.

I back peddle, not wanting to dwell on the subject.

In a separate development, police have praised a pilot scheme aimed at curbing underage drinking and youth disorder across Ayrshire.
The initiative involved marking bottles with special codes in 100 shops to show where the drink had come from.

Now there’s an idea to curb underage drinking and root out the shopkeepers who base their income on alcohol sales to youngsters.

Actress Cameron Diaz has apologised for carrying a bag in Peru which featured a political slogan likely to be considered offensive by local people.
Stupid bitch.

A photographer who took topless photos of Cameron Diaz and tried to sell them back for $3.5m (£1.9m) has been ordered to pay the actress undisclosed damages.
Perhaps she could back up her apology by donating the proceeds to some of the villages she used in her publicity jaunt in Peru.

Ms Danah Boyd, has finished a survey of users of Facebook
( I admit to never having fucking heard of it)
and the popular My Space.

Facebook is apparently used by “youngsters who are in honours classes, looking forward to the prom, and live in a world dictated by after school activities."
They tend to be white and come from families who are keen for children to get the most out of school and go on to college, having parents who for the most part attended college themselves.

My Space users ?
My Space has most of the kids who are socially ostracised at school because they are geeks, freaks, or queers," she said.

Verily a lesson on how to make friends in the right circles.

Having no knowledge of one of the camps and only dipped my toe into My Space,
I cannot comment,
Labelling people as geeks, freaks, or queers does seem to me a little unscientific, specific or fucking useful.

She wrote: "This division is just another way in which technology is mirroring societal values."
Teens are using social network sites to build community and connect with their peers," she said. "And through it, they are showcasing all of the good, bad, and ugly of today's teen life." (That is how it appears in print).Such is the findings of PhD student.

Stubbed out: A smoking ban in enclosed public places in England comes into effect. A recent national poll showed that eight out of 10 people questioned said they agreed with banning smoking in public places.
Hardly surprising since Smoking, is after all a minority pastime.

Tony Blair will tender his resignation to the Queen, standing down after 10 years in the job.
To be honest I have very little to say about that, he has aged prematurely having done a difficult job.
Gordon Brown will take over as Labour leader and PM.
Labour leader? Yes, no problems,
PM?
Mr Brown was born in Glasgow on 20 February 1951, the son of a Church of Scotland Minister in the small Fife town of Kirkcaldy.
At 12, he was canvassing for Labour and by his 20s he was a leading political activist in Scotland.
He achieved a first class degree in history from Edinburgh University, where he went on to complete a PhD.
Another PhD student, probably surrounded by geeks, freaks, and queers.

Mr Brown's early career was spent lecturing, working in television, and making a name for himself in the Scottish Labour Party.

During the 1997 election campaign, he is said to have worked an average of 18 hours a day, six days a week after running on a treadmill for an hour each morning.
I used to have a hamster, as a pet when younger.

He has strong support in the party, with every reshuffle of ministers analysed for its potential effect on the Brownite power base.
The outcome of his spending review is crucial to Labour's success or failure over the next three years.
And it will have massive implications for Mr Brown's future too.

I am not a political person, but saying that a leader with an eye on the purse strings may not be too bad for a country which is steadily failing more and more sections of its diverse population.

Trouble with people whose past has been shaped by calculations, predictions, statistics, and multi disciplinary investigations.
Leads me to think of Orwell.

Are we going to be bombarded with almost daily figures in an attempt to prove the success of past policies and the apparent acceptance of more recent proposals?

Will there be a glut of figures compiled by geeks, freaks, and queers,
New departments formed,
A ministry of figures perhaps whose sole purpose is to make the populous believe that the accepted model is in fact working?

We all know statistics can oh so easily be manipulated and then regurgitated as propaganda for the masses.

Crime figures, employment, even population figures to name, but a few.
The craze for Performance figures has grown over the last decade and will I fear,
Continue to do so.

I know I did say earlier that anyone who has no interest in the game should get out of the stadium.
And yes, I would love to live in a sunnier climate.
Why?

I would love to see the politicians get back to grass roots and realise that the majority of the population are desperate for assistance.

Unicef says the study is the first of its kind for child well-being
The UK has been accused of failing its children, as it comes bottom of a league table for child well-being across 21 industrialised countries.

The government says its policies have helped to improve child welfare.
Now you see the problem.
Who the hell do you believe?

The UK government said its initiatives in areas such as poverty; pregnancy rates, teenage smoking, drinking, and risky sexual behaviour had helped improve children's welfare.
I think not,
I believe not.

Professor Sir Al Aynsley-Green, said:
"We are turning out a generation of young people who are unhappy, unhealthy, engaging in risky behaviour,
Who have poor relationships with their family and their peers,
Who have low expectations and don't feel safe."

They should fit right in with the rest of us then!

Here’s a quote from a Dutch 16 year old.
"Everybody has the chance and the opportunity to do whatever he or she wants to do. There are many jobs - everyone can work and there are opportunities to build a good career in later life."
"You can smoke at 16, you can buy pot in the store next to the school.
You can do what you like and because it's not illegal, it's not that interesting for us to provoke our parents with it."

"There is a strong tendency for mothers to raise children or take a long time off work after children are born."
One of the strong points of the Dutch family, he says, is that it is very open and communicative.
Relations are generally good between parents and children and they can talk about almost anything.

Until our little country decides upon what role it is to play in the world then we will continue to churn out ill educated people into an undecided workplace.
Of course I’m not talking about the PhD students who get grants for labelling people.
Years ago the factory and industry fodder was provided by the majority of the state schools.
Job patterns changed, industries died and there was significant gap of time during which no one had the balls to steer the country towards a new horizon.

True, Maggie knew full well what we no longer needed,
she had the vision to see the demise of a lot of our established work places and helped their death as sure as any euthanasia partnership.
We had the chance to be one of the main players in the new world of computer assisted technology but we dallied too long and were overtaken so easily by other countries mainly due to the fact we had no trained workforce.

When I say trained, I mean a person skilled enough to actually do a job.
Not someone who is simply able to read and add up simple maths.

I remember only a short while ago, a cry for more tradesmen,
I think plumbers were mentioned.
Fucking plumbing!
Anyone can learn how to cut pipe and fit it together using the modern materials available today.
Hell, I’ve installed my own shower in every house I’ve had.
And only now have to suffer without one,
Because it has to be installed by certified tradesman!

I am not picking on plumbers in general or electricians for that matter.
But I am old enough to remember when a trade was learnt in something akin to an apprentice scheme.
Nowadays certificates are handed out like toilet paper, and worth about the same, for simply turning up on god knows how many courses.

I recall the horror at being told by a young female member of the family that she wanted to be,
A probation officer.
Fucking probation officer!
Daily facing all the dross of the life with the dangers involved with same.
What are the careers officers telling the youngsters of today?

I pour myself a drink and chastise myself for putting on my political head.
Something I very rarely do.
Politics and policy making, to be honest politics in general is like the music which I listen to.
I hear it; it goes through and over and is forgotten.

So the youngsters eventually join the rest of us and patiently wait for more homes to be built, because they as sure as shit stinks have very little chance of getting on the property ladder.
They will be destined to live out their lives on one of the many estates on the outskirts of towns, bringing up even more children into their respective micro societies.

As they get older values will change and they too will become wary of venturing out after dark.
Be sceptical of the police force, wary of the state social system and generally disillusioned with life in general and their future in particular.

All I can say is, best of luck.

“The UK and the USA are too commercial and market driven
Kenneth Whyte, Oegstgeest, Netherlands

Simple and to the point.

http://sites.childrenssociety.org.uk/mylife/home.aspx
I leave with that link.

Perhaps if more kids used the Internet to make their voices known to the politicians they may eventually take note.

Lobbying is a concerted effort designed to achieve some result, typically from government authorities and elected officials.

Once again,
Best of luck.
Or as we used to say,
“Best of British,”

Its not often you stumble upon a phrase which is just right for the moment but I found one.
It relates to the 1£million projected over spend of one counsels’ school transport scheme.

“The Country needs to be managed at a high level but needs some detailed micro-management to get it back on track."

Perhaps a return to local authorities having an increased role?
Having worked in local government,
Perhaps not.

A lot of people blame the youngsters for a lot of the ills of society yet do not realise that these youngsters are in fact the future of this once proud and pompous country.

I take another drink and try to forget the last sentence.

Three tier cake.
The leaders are to be found among the University graduates.
The skilled and semi skilled from the college attendees.
The majority of the workforce, straight from school bearing all the scars of their education, often illiterate, innumerate and totally pissed off with their hand off cards.

Perhaps Poker should be taught in schools,
Pupils will learn to make the best hand out of what is offered on the table, take their chance and learn success and inevitable failure thus.

The government aims to get all youngsters up to the reading level of an eleven year old by the time they are 12!
Hang on,
How come any child is leaving school at 16 and still hasn’t reached that level?
Reading and numeracy is something learnt much earlier, by the age of six,
I would expect anyone with difficulties to have become noticed,
not allowed to slip through the net and leave school with only enough Basic English to decipher a text message.

Who was it said “give me the child and I’ll give you the adult”,
or words to that effect.
Perhaps we should stop bickering about state schools, religious schools, colleges of excellence, etc,
(Notice how I omitted Grammar schools?)

To me the child’s education from the entrance into primary school is where the building blocks are laid.
The whole aspect of education should be re-assessed.

The Americans,
And it is very seldom you will ever hear me write anything good about their ideas.
Do follow a path of keeping a student in a particular grade, stream or whatever they call it nowadays,
Until that pupil is ready to progress.
A child’s early learning can be disrupted for many, many reasons, but because it is part of their formative years it can also be controlled.
I’m talking primary education here;
There is nothing wrong with making a child stay another term of whatever before progressing with its peers.

How the hell can any pupil be expected to leap educational hurdles later in life if it has been allowed to walk under them earlier in its schooling?

To be sending a 16 year old to the shops and describing what you want him to purchase by describing the tin, the packet, the colour, or whatever;
Anything to save the poor bastard from actually having to resort to reading is totally unacceptable.
To accept a person on a “work scheme” and having to take him into the job centre and help him or her fill out their basic details such as name and address is also not acceptable.

How could anyone be so cruel as to send a child forward into a world which they cannot understand anything but the spoken word,
(Quite often not even that).
No wonder they reply with grunts and gestures.

If retired Doctors can ask huge fees for coming in and doing work then why can’t retired primary teachers or anyone with the time be drafted in to help youngsters,
“Catch up? ”

True educating everyone to a standard where they can read and write will not solve the countries’ problems but it will improve the quality of life of some of the unfortunate bastards who are allowed to slip through the net.

I thought it was a basic right.
Education.

We, England, are no longer a source of technologic advancement,
Most people with any aptitude for a particular subject are well advised to seek employment elsewhere, and many have taken the chance.
We have no longer the natural resources to lead the world and have long since adopted a policy of “wait and see.”
As producers we fail even our own meagre population.
Made in Britain, stands for diddly squat.

The only thing going for us is our placement on the world map.
We are a gateway and if America ever gets its arse into gear we will be the floating embarkation point it will need.
Until then we have to brown nose any fucking idiot the yanks choose to represent their country and allow ourselves to be led by the balls until we are needed.

At the moment our school kids lie down when they are told to,
Not because some fucking redneck decides “it’s a good day to die.”

I think the Aussies had the best idea, keep out of the way, and keep every fucker out!
And spend the time learning how to play cricket.
Now there’s a game to inspire our up and coming generations!
I think not.

Child obesity; seeing as we are talking about the American way of life.
Should the social services be allowed to intervene in such cases?
Too bloody true they should.

If we can release prisoners because the jails are too full we can use empty office buildings as exercise grounds for overweight kids.
No expensive equipment involved just a few CCTV cameras on the landings and make the bastards run up and down the stairs.

We love cameras in Britain,
Grainy unclear images of the proof that a crime has been committed, yet not good enough to enable capture of criminals or stand up in court.
A deterrent we are told.
I think not.

Mother-of-two Lynn Robson, a nurse at Newcastle's Freeman Hospital, was one of the first on the scene after the 85-year-old victim was struck by the black Peugeot 206 car early on Saturday.
The unnamed man had been walking his pet Staffordshire bull terrier along Barley Mill Road, on the outskirts of Consett, County Durham, shortly after 5.30am when he was hit.
Two youths were seen running off and the car was abandoned in the road.
The victim sustained serious rib and leg injuries and was in the University Hospital of North Durham last night.

Poor old twat.
And wait for it.

His dog had to be put down by a vet.

A neighbour who telephoned the ambulance told me he had seen two lads.
One of them told him the `brakes had locked' before they ran off.
Two 18-year-olds were helping police with their inquiries last night.

Probably end up with probation, community service,
Or perhaps they could take his dog for a walk while he recovers.

No I forgot,
It was the dog, that had to be put down,
This time.

Well the weather, and my mood haven’t improved much over the last few hours.

I was going to continue and tell you about a Japanese school kids long day and often night in relation to the continued prosperity of the country as a whole but after reading about the sad loss of the old guy’s dog.
You understand.

It is too bloody easy nowadays to group people together and say whatever you like about them, be you a citizen or a PhD student.
It is articles about a single person’s misfortunate circumstances, that have greater weight.

Perhaps educating our youngsters should be along the same lines,
Construct a net, a safety device to catch the ones which slip through the net,
Who knows, given time the net may become obsolete and the system in general improved to benefit all.
Kinda like a grammar school train of thought in reverse.

There’s a Mayor in our region who uses phrases like, bold new outlook and zero tolerance, perhaps its people like this that we as a community should be listening to and looking for inspiration.

Teachers, overall, are a good crew,
They take pride in their achievements and equally are upset by students who fail to take advantage of their dedication.

Stop closing the smaller schools, get away from the wanting to amalgamate them.
Give the teachers a chance to teach,
Manageable amounts of pupils on a more personal basis,
Especially during the younger years.

At some time in the future some one must realise that pupils will have to be taught about everyday things,
Shopping, banking, management of finances, pensions, security, interactive skills, parenthood, etc.
Life skills.

Instead of allowing television, advertising, peer pressure rule their actions and shape their dreams.

There is nothing wrong with dreaming, but to begin to think that dreams may become reality somehow by showing their arse or tits on My Space, or appearing on some of the hundreds of wannabee television shows; that sad.

Facebook is a social utility that connects you with the people around you.

And is different because?

I pour myself the penultimate JD and delve into the contents of the ashtray to make a rollie.

Learn by the mistakes of others, because as sure as shit stinks you haven’t the time to make all of them yourself.
When our ministers decided to opt for that course of action perhaps the younger generation will take heed and take advice from their elders.

Elders.
Aboriginal persons who are respected and consulted due to their experience, wisdom, knowledge, background, and insight.
Elder does not necessarily equate with age.

See, I told you the Aussies had something going for them.

How I wish I’d been taught that word earlier in life.
Instead of been beaten and told you will do as you are told.

These people are wise indeed,
They have progressed from living in caves to inhabiting houses made from discarded lager tins and beer bottles.
Have built an Opera house for anyone who is prepared to travel, and surrounded themselves with nature.

To live with nature is ideal,
To try and control Human nature while providing a hostile environment is doomed to failure.

That is how the kids of today see the world, a hostile, often frightening environment in which they have to seek similar disturbed people and live in a surreal world.

I care not to comment any further on the growth of electronic societies save to say the real world is out there.

But of course, I have no PhD, no letters after my name not even,
Pro.c. (Proficient in cycling).
I was a failure to several of my teachers and lecturers and parents, even my wife and daughter,
To be honest the last dog I had didn’t care too much for me either.

But I learnt how to survive and chose several times to change my direction in life.
Made the best hand out of the cards I’d been dealt.

Am I a failure?
Who knows?
I haven’t left the table yet!

Like my grandfather used to say,
“You only get out, what you put in,”
If only he’d been talking about education and not farming,
I may have taken some notice.

We talk about the foreigners coming over here and “taking our jobs,”
Hell, they’ve even taken out beggars’ jobs.

Most have come from countries torn apart by civil strife, places where education and health care and state help are not available.
Places where disease is rife and children are sold.
Freedom of speech is forbidden and intelligence is frowned upon.
Places where tradition still upholds caste systems and marriages are arranged.
Where skin colour is a stigma.
Disability leads to a lifetime of begging.
Murder, rape, and financial embezzlement reign.

Talking of which rain is the most talked about subject in this country.
We have a comfortable life on this island but it cannot survive if the majority of the population are not contributing in some way.

As youngsters you obviously never have thoughts about the future but Britain was built on the understanding that there would be sufficient workers to fund the needs of its elder generation.
No longer applies!
The equation has changed and the government is no longer able to provide.
In short, you will miss out.
So it is even more imperative that you succeed in life and provide for your offspring.

If you don’t want to be obese, stop eating so much.
If you cannot provide for children, do not have them.
If you cannot afford all that is being advertised, do without.
If you cannot read this, find someone to teach you, be prepared to learn.

Or be a sheep.
Because it’s a certainty that soon Britain will be needing sheep and cows to replace the animals that we are losing from our countryside as farmers battle to make ends meet and obey EU directives.

I pour my last JD and roll up my very last cig.
Will I perhaps have the will power and sense to pack in smoking?
Who knows, perhaps?

If as a youngster you want to see your future.
Go to Skegness, sit on a bench and watch the world go by,
A myriad of choices will pass before your eyes, and but for the grace of God, you could be anyone of them.
It’s known as reality.
And everyone, at some times in their lives needs a reality check.

The experience can depress you, bring on unwanted emotions and fuel equally unwanted thoughts and ideas.
It can also infuse hope and inspiration.
Living proof that no matter what shit the world throws at you there are people who actually cope and overcome life’s problems.

A cannabis plant will not develop a strong stem to support a good crop unless it is subjected to movement of wind,
Similarly these people have overcome life’s obstacles and got on with the task of living.

Not despairing because they haven’t got the latest gadget or labour saving device, unless you can include a walking frame, cane, or buggy.

Not feeling the need to rob anyone of their hard earned possessions or money.
They exist.
And to be honest and take all the wrapping off things, life is about,
Existence.

The only differences between you and them, is age, experience, upbringing and education.
The majority of the people you will see were brought up on morals, religion, and self-reliance.
Unlike the dog eat dog, media exaggerated generation to which you belong which craves for immediate appeasement with no toil attached.

No one is actually asking you to lay down your life, unless you choose to, no one is asking you to rely on your own resources to exist, there is a safety net in place for you.
These people contributed to such a scheme. Understood about their taxation and are reaping the benefits of same.

You are on your own, and without your wits about you will be poorly tooled up to exist as you get older.

One thing is for certain, in this country, it will take a long time to get things back on track, and if we were hoping on this generation to help us then we are in deep shit.
Britain’s got talent,
Or whatever the show is called.
The only talent comes from the people who organise such charades.

Nothing is free in this world,
Everything good comes from effort and self-determination.
Almost everything has a price,
And because of that simple fact becomes a commodity.

Anyone with a lack of education will have to pay a price, sooner or later.
Before you spout off numerous examples of people who have struck lucky,
For every one there are millions who don’t.

What has today cost me?
About £1.50 according to my meter.
I have yet to feed myself, but am sure a simple meal will suffice.

I just thank the lord that I’m not laid out in the corner, off my head on smack,
Because I cannot face the injustice of the world.
Am not drunk outa my skull and inflicting pain on my partner and child.
Not knocking down an 85 year old guy,
And killing his dog.
Kicking seven bells out of a pensioner to find out where her purse is hidden.

Or perhaps kicking the life out of a dog, owned by a nasty middle-aged guy who decided to stop the local off license from selling booze to underage youngsters.

I love the younger generations, I admire them for their individuality, and eagerness to follow whatever trend is in vogue.
Their need to push away from the accepted sport of England, forget bat and bails and try base jumping or snowboarding form a helicopter on fresh snow.
Their ability to put so many genres of music into a blender and come out with?
Their ability to lose stones in weight and still wear the same old baggy clothes.
I cannot understand their text language nor either their chants or grunted greetings but who cares?

What I don’t like is their enthusiasm to enter the pubs and clubs, in search of better pastimes.
Keep the fuck out!
There is nothing for you, save a game of pool and a glimpse of a television.

Get out there and do what you do best, protected rutting!
Lets face it, once you leave school and haven’t secured a job there is little left but to get stoned, drunk, and rut.

Some may take delight in owning a car with an exhaust big enough to put your foot up,
Others seem to delight in annoying their neighbourhood with a hairdryer of a scooter, baffles removed to produce an excruciatingly painful sound.

I notice that parents are no longer allowed to call out to you in the street,
That it is indeed.
“Time for bed”,
Even though it is well past midnight and you are fucking about as loud as possible; drinking.

You have to understand, your parents weren’t allowed such freedom,
So why the fuck should you expect same?

I look at the clock and it is time for this sad old bastards dose of soaps,
So once again I wish you,
Best of British.
(Made in Taiwan.)

2007-06-24T17:46:00.000+01:00

24-Jun-07

Usual Sunday morning, shave a week’s growth off the face and up to parents for beautiful meal and soak in hot bath.
Much needed bath, if truth were known.

I then made the most of a bad day by going to nearby Netto and doing my shopping, enough to last me well into next month.

Lasted 19 hours without a rollie.
As the thunderstorm overhead releases yet another load of steady downpours I sit rollie in hand trying to fight off the oppressive atmosphere.

The forecast for the next week looks to be, more of the same.
Appears we chose the best week in this month for our holidays!

Talking of holidays, I’m itching to go somewhere else but will have to wait for a gap in the inclement weather.

The act of shopping has brought some of the pain back, so much so that I’ve had to leave one bag at the foot of the stairs and another in the car.
I have the excuse of waiting for the rain to subside to give me a breather.

Treated myself to a bottle of dry martini; preferring that to a couple of pints in the club.
Will get to catch up on all the gossip, when I finally decide to pay the regulars a visit.

This week of rain and warm moist conditions has done the vegetable gardens some good, peas, and beans both putting on a spurt.

The rain stops and I decide to retrieve the bags before settling in for the night.

I’d forgotten I’d collected my art materials from my parents so there was yet another bag to struggle upstairs with.
I was too knackered to stand and fill the cupboards so I poured myself a long drink of martini and lemonade and once again wait for strength to return.

I really am knackered!

I wish now I hadn’t bought the baccy!
But as usual it’s too late for regrets.

My stomach is undoubtedly busy digesting the huge amount of food I’ve just devoured, perhaps not the best time to add alcohol to its burden.
The drink is quite pleasant, and having poured a pint of it into my tea tankard there should be enough to last for most of the afternoon.

In Honduras, the Lluvia de Peces (Rain of Fishes) is a unique phenomenon that has been occurring for more than a century on a yearly basis in the country of Honduras.
It occurs in the Departamento de Yoro, between the months of May and July.

Witnesses of this phenomenon state that it begins with is a dark cloud in the sky followed by lightning, thunder, strong winds and heavy rain for 2 to 3 hours.
Once the rain has stopped, hundreds of living fish are found on the ground. People take the fish home to cook and eat them.
Although some experts have tried to explain the Rain of Fishes as a natural meteorological phenomenon,
the fish are not sea water fish, but fresh water fish;
they are not dead, but alive;
they are not blind, they have eyes;
they are not big fish, but small;
and the type of fish is not found elsewhere in the area.
There is no valid scientific explanation for this phenomenon. Many people believe this phenomenon occurs because of Father José Manuel Subirana, a Spanish catholic missionary and considered by many to be a Saint.
He visited Honduras from 1856-1864, and upon encountering so many poor people, prayed for 3 days and 3 nights asking God for a miracle to help the poor people by providing food.
The Rain of Fishes has occurred ever since.

I look at the garden, no, no fish.

I’d love to witness such an event.
Rotating Wall Art
Richard Wilson, one of Britain's best-known sculptors is drawing inspiration for the world of construction and engineering with his latest art called Turning the Place Over.
The art is a section cut out from a building and rotates itself on a pivot with a cost of £450,000.
It is described as one of the most daring piece of public art ever commissioned in the UK.
It will be launched on June 20th 2007 and will run till the end of the year.

http://www.oddee.com/item_86464.aspx

Focus on doing simple and pleasurable activities within the privacy of your own home.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
My horoscope.

23 rd June.

2007-06-23T13:45:00.001+01:00

23/06/2007
12:22
I took a Zyprexa last night and enjoyed 15 hours solid sleep.
Unfortunately my lower back is again solid.
I am in pain.
The birds are singing, the watery sun tries bravely to cut through the mass of grey cloud; and the window cleaner hurries to finish the job before the rain comes.

The treetops show little movement, yet my voiles are tickled into action by the chilled breeze from the open windows.
First thought in my mind today, was, to go back to bed.
A thought which is often high on the list after taking one of the mind tablets.

My pepper plant is resembling a decorated Christmas tree, peppers standing up.
I hope I’m successful with the crop.

I change from meditation to chill out on the radio.
Which of course is 777.

I read and delete my e. mail, watch the cleaner scurry down his ladder as the rain starts.
Judging by the wad of notes he was counting earlier, he has had a good morning’s work.
Should see him o.k.
In the pub for the remainder of the day, no doubt.

The room chills down, and so do I;
Flaming June!

I check with date insert and discover today is actually Saturday, not Friday as I had thought.
People will have toiled all week only to be rewarded with a wet weekend.
Such is life.

The rain shifts into another gear and comes down heavy; many raindrops find themselves down the chimney, playing a staccato tune on the metal back of the gas fire.

I realise I haven’t had to use the hosepipe on the garden for three weeks now.
Oh, how I wish I was somewhere warmer, sunnier, anywhere, I care not.

It is dark, almost too dark to see the keys.

Thunder rumbles nearby, fading reluctantly, as does the weight of the rain.
Only briefly pausing before redoubling its effort.
Lightening flashes, thunder cracks, almost directly overhead.
The rain comes down almost vertical.
My little old flower garden will appreciate the downpour, and no doubt the local water authority.
Some areas will be worried about flooding, I am not.

The rain subsides but the thunder continues to crackle and roar.
A steadier shower takes over but them increases,
A lot of water is coming down.
There is a small chink in the grey sky but it is quickly covered.

As usual the local, Hoppings, (week long fair), will be turned into a sea of mud, as will any other outdoor events of the weekend.
Glastonbury, no doubt.

An exceptionally loud crack of thunder breaks overhead.
If I’d have been in company it would have prompted a comment from me, I’m sure.
The nearby field and woods are obscured from view as the torrential rain continues.

I am reminded of the rain showers in Ireland, they come, pass, and go.
This deluge is not going to be disappearing for a while.

I love summer storms.
I remember sitting on the balcony of a hotel in Callela, drink and smoke in hand watching the fantastic light show of the lightening out to sea.
Bats scurrying back to the safety of the gap in the roof above me.
Passing me, within a couple of feet.

The grey sky mingles with the greyness of the vista and forms an impenetrable curtain.
I wonder, would I have slept through it?
Quite possibly.

The best thing about a bloody good downpour is the feeling of freshness which one senses.
An extremely loud thunderclap makes me jump but as I see the misty curtain rise slightly, I think the excessive clap may signal the nearing of the end of the deluge.
I’m right, the force of the rain decreases and the thunder becomes more distant.

Lightning is a giant spark. A single stroke of lightning can heat the air around it to 30,000 degrees Celsius (54,000 degrees Fahrenheit)! This extreme heating causes the air to expand at an explosive rate. The expansion creates a shock wave that turns into a booming sound wave, better known as thunder. Thus the name thunderstorm.
http://www.windows.ucar.edu/tour/link=/earth/Atmosphere/tstorm/lightning.html

So now we know.

The rain subsides but the thunder continues, merging with the sounds of one of the many trains which pass by the properties.
Things return to normal and very soon, I imagine, the peace and quiet of a cemetery will return.

As I type the above the rain stops and we are left with a bright but hazy outlook.

Thank fuck, for that, I think.
What else would I have written if it hadn’t happened along?

I look around the room and once again feel guilt for not tidying up and unpacking.
Two weeks now and bags of clothes etc. remain full.

Who knows when the mood will take me?

I am cold and consider putting the fire on.
I will consider the option further.

The flower garden is well and truly “puddled”, standing water covering at least a third of it,
Wonder where the cats will shit today?
I take a leak switching the kettle on before I do so in order to heat up the insipid tankard of coffee I had managed to produce earlier.
I take a cursory glance in the mirror; chin and face full of a mixture of white, grey, black, and brown bristles.
I will never look good with a beard.

I take a drink of the revitalised coffee, it tastes bland, I remember the early morning Belgium coffees I used to have with the taxi drivers in Puerto Rico and try to recall the distinctive taste.
I think of JD and warm coffee but decided against any such experimentation.

I pour a small amount of my beverage into a glass and add an appropriate measure of JD. Drink.
The JD immediately assaults my mouth and throat but does add flavour.
It thus shakes hands with me, reminding me of my time spent in its company yesterday.

I take a deep breath and breath out slowly, my wool jumper irritates against my skin.
I burp and belch, sure sign that JD is now tackling the innards on its journey to my bladder.

I drink JD when in pain or when I am on my own seeking pleasure and a good night’s sleep.
Seldom drinking it in any amount if in company.

My Father continues to frown when I decline the offer of a pint and ask for a double JD over ice.
He fails to realise it is merely the equivalent of a pint.
A feeling of an inner glow comes over as Jack continues his journey through my system.
A pleasant, reassuring feeling.

Some more deep breaths and I become relaxed, al thoughts of what to write have disappeared and words merely flow from the actions of the fingers upon the keys.

Question: If the optimum seating position is on a slant of 10 degrees,
Why do wheel chairs have a straight back?

Being tall can have some advantages, I can adjust my driving seat for example to provide me with a laid back, as far removed from pedals as adjustably possible position.
I will, one day manufacture a headrest for myself to take away the strain from having to keep the head rigid.

Any more complaints? Regarding my old Rover 200, not really, apart from the obvious poor, spongy braking system.
It is comfortable, rides the bumps well and has adequate power when needed.

I have little baccy left, plenty of JD and very low reserves of energy.
I should therefore jettison the coffee and concentrate upon JD and smokes.
I drain my coffee in preparation for the shift.

I really am a selfish? Old Hector, refusing to share JD or dope with anyone.

Such is life,You try anything to make living in a chair seem bearable.
Do you have problems supporting a heavy head while sat in your favourite chair?
I folded up a cushion and held it in place with an old jumper, arms of which are tied, out of sight behind the chair.
Does it work?
It is now.

I pour a JD and lemonade, noticing as I do so that the lemonade is nearly finished, may be enough for another two drinks.
Which should be sufficient for me.

Not being a weekend orientated person uninterested in sport,
Saturdays hold nothing in store for me.
Nightime TV entertainment is crap and all in all the day is wasted on me,
As are most days which try to be distinctive from the remainder of the week.
Sundays, I associate with a good meal, but apart from that days are generally allowed to run into each other.

Memories of work try to invade the thought process and I quickly scupper them.

If I’d have been fishing today I would expect the fish to be biting like hell after such a downpour, something to do with increased oxygen levels I suspect.
True I would have been soaked because I am at present without a fishing brolly.

I’m still undecided as to whether I will hurl myself back into freshwater angling.

I will probably, will see.

Memories of past fishing trips explode upon my thinking region, in an attempt to convince me, I herd them away, back into a corner.
I have no reason to remember, knowing full well that even the most unproductive outings have been enjoyed for some reason or other.

I am hitting the baccy like a jackhammer, perhaps in an attempt to remove it completely, to take away the temptation.
My breathing has been noisy at nighttime and I really should make the effort.
After all we will be smoke free next month.

A guy the other week said to me he was glad of the change over to non smoking,
“ The bastards that have winghed will have to pay out of their taxes,” he informed me. And that fact, made him feel good.

I have a couple of more tests and another section of my course work to complete but I am no longer in the mood and am near to jettisoning the idea.
Apparently we , as humans tend to give up when success is in sight.
I will finish it and achieve the qualification just to prove to others that I am in fact capable of doing same.

I recently installed a Stat counter on my site, am still confused with regards to some of the stats but apparently they show a slow increase in the amount of traffic.
I’d read somewhere that it may take months for a site to be actually noticed and therefore a slow stream of visitors is to be expected.
Generally, the font size is a larger number than the visitor total.
Should I expect anything but? I think not.
After all my life never changes from day to day.
I remain, sat in this chair most days and therefore am restricted in terms of stimulation.

Iraq is apparently the largest tea drinking nation; we rate fifth.
Source: my packet of Top 5 rollie papers.
Makes you wonder how they find the time with all the troubles of the country.

I love a good cuppa.
Fact.
I also have great difficulty in finding one.
So much of the tea nowadays is crap,
Perhaps I long for the old traditional stew in the pot, leaf tea.
For whatever reason the tea and coffee produced nowadays seems to be far inferior.

A nice strong early morning coffee and croissants or a nice cup of tea and a fresh scone with butter and jam topping, mid afternoon.

Or alternatively JD with lemonade and a stream of rollies.

Living is a fatal disease brought on by an unknown dosage of time.
I hope I die in my sleep.

Killing time is an overrated pastime.
No matter what effort you put into its execution you seldom are rewarded with any tangible outcome.

I hate time, having it waste it doing something totally unconstructive and worthless.
I often give in, no more able to come up with any viable ideas, succumbing to the alternative and retiring to sleep.

For in sleep my aching muscles relax, my brain sorts out any prominent problems, my organs are relieved of the daily strain of working and all is well with the world if you are indeed closed down for the duration.

The first signs of acid producing, stomach churning action become noticeable.
My body has developed a low tolerance to alcohol.
It has decided it will no longer tolerate its presence and does its level best to deter me from further imbibing.

Yet I persist.
Even though I know that alcohol is after all, a downer, a depressant.

I pause and decided to steer away from the present course of thought.

I skin and spark a rollie while contemplating my gut hanging over the waistband of the trackie bottoms.

I need exercise and being without a partner I am unable to rely on regular sessions of sex to burn off the calories,
I need to be more active.
I make a note, as I have done many times in the last 12 months, lose weight, stop smoking, and take control.

I have finished one project and succeeded in exorcising my latest episode form my life, I now need to look o the future and if one is to exist, make plans for it.

To live the remainder of my days with a financially secure partner who has an isolated property with fishing close to hand may be simply a dream.
To do something in my life which I enjoy and brings in sufficient a revenue to allow me to be independent is also a dream.

I cannot imagine what it would be like to have sufficient reserves of money to allow spending without guilt.
To allow travel to anywhere in the world and know that whatever one desires,
Is affordable.

I crave not the ability to spend freely or to have sufficient funds to pass on to my daughter and her family.
Simply enough to allow me some breaks away from the monotonous life which I live.

So how does one turn a dream or wish into reality?
Answers please.

I will however try to tackle some of the more prominent aspects of my present life.
I will lose some weight.
Become more active.
Stop smoking normal cigarettes.
And look for?

I leave the last item blank for I know what I shall seek.
Thus incorporating, the necessary element of the unknown, with its associated degree of risk.

I pour myself the penultimate drink and consider the possibility of JD and Ginger beer, trying to imagine the taste.
My stomach surges several times and I grimace as the power of the acid fills my throat and enters my mouth.
I have sufficient lemonade left for a small drink and truthfully that will be sufficient.
I have no memories whatsoever of actually being drunk on JD,
Such is the power of the drink.

A couple of guys are tearing around on bikes, one with little or no exhaust and the other being the pathetic sounding scooter.
I think back to my childhood, riding up, down and around a shale heap on an assortment of motorcycles.
I nearly bought a trike a few years ago,
Billy Connelly beat me to it,
Travelling around on a trike was a plan I had a few years ago.
I could never be comfortable on a bike but a trike with a comfortable seat would have been ideal.
Unfortunately the rental on a garage to house such a machine would have meant me incurring yet another expense which I can ill afford.

I pour the remnants of the baccy into the paper; any further smokes will have to be made out of the ashtray’s dogends.
Such is life,
Such is existence.

Do I look to the future with a glad heart?
Apparently not or else I would have packed in smoking after the heart attack.
No doubt if I’d have had a rewarding occupation and perhaps a family I may have made the effort.
But as the reader will see my life is much of a sameness and therefore lacking in any such carrots.

Perhaps I may stumble upon an advert along the lines of
“Partner wanted to assist in upkeep of fishing pond and hotel.”
“Live in estate manager”
“House sitter”
“Apartment maintenance guy wanted”
“Travel companion”
“English teacher required, live in”

Not being an avid reader of situations vacant for a number of years now, the above possibility, is somewhat far fetched.

I am now destined to retrieve as much tobacco as possible fro the meagre remains in the ashtray.
The time is passing nicely and approaching a possible suitable time to take time off.

For no better reason than to pass time I will make a list of past occupations.
Church pianist.
Kitchen furniture assembler.
Car showroom assistant.
Blast furnace worker,
Steel stocktaker,
Foundry worker, scrap burner,
Homeless hostel keeper,
Factory worker, acid stripper.
Fitter’s mate, engineering,
Grit blaster,
Self taught car mechanic,
Groundsman, park dept. worker.
Driver,
Bodyguard.
Personal assistant,
Property renovator,
Wagon driver, 7.5
Husband, father, gardener and part time fisherman, as well as being someone’s son.
And, in between all that, college student studying many subjects.

Probably not the best idea in the world to write one’s past on the back of a postage stamp!

I struggle to successfully bit huge strips from my upper lip.
Possibly a sign of hunger or more likely boredom.

I begin to write and then demolish all traces of the sentence, sure sign of an ill-fated beginning.

A word of advice to anyone who has been shall we say, pissed off with school,
Get yourself to college, but remember you and you alone are responsible for learning. It’s all up to you whether or not you succeed.

Once again I veer away from the subject.

Today has been hard work; I still feel the deflation after yesterdays decision that one project had indeed ended.

I have nothing to think of now but my own future.
And the biggest part of that will be waking up each day.

I am like the inexperienced potter; I have my future on the wheel but lack the knowledge or influence to shape it.
My only stipulation is that I must wake up daily and continue to do so for as long as able.

If the boffins are to believed we can expect, with new technology and developments to live till we are 100.
Fuck me, I’m half way there and have been bored sick for the last twenty years.
Is it right that I should soldier on just to fulfil my allotted expected time space?

Suicide isn’t as popular nowadays as it used to be.
Not since the removal of the half penny bridge.
A one time favourite for toppers.
The local cliffs being the alternative.
The long step and no doubt all to quick drop.
I plan to use a wheelchair and a parachute,
To ensure safe return of chair to much needed N.H.S. stock.

Once again I veer off the road and stifle the stomach churning.
Now I know that to have one’s cake and eat it is out of range of many of us.
But there are people out there able to do just that.
To have sufficient funds to live off the interest.
That must be brilliant.

To be like Bill Gaites, able to buy everyone in the world a drink and not be too much out of pocket.

A few years ago a millionaire was a rarity; nowadays we have billionaires,
Riches beyond the normal person’s comprehension.

Lets have a look at what they could buy.

Back in the 1970s, yachting was a form of camping, and now it's all about floating palaces

http://www.forbes.com/sport/2005/04/27/cx_ns_0427feat.html

Expensive houses.
http://www.forbes.com/lifestyle/2002/03/01/0301home.html
O.k. the above didn’t work so I coloured it blue!, copy and paste.

Most expensive divorce settlements.

http://uk.askmen.com/toys/top_10_60/74_top_10_list.html
Worked that time.

Living on £10 per day or so, I seldom visit such sites.
But, non the less admire anyone who has succeeded in reaching such a dizzy height of income.

o.k. I do live on the above sum, often as not my only choice while shopping is whether to choose whole plum tomatoes or sliced, but I survive.

What would the impact of wealth make on me.
Well it would take away the above choice for one; I would live somewhere warm enough to grow my fucking own, as well as a few more plants, no doubt.

Would I need a huge yacht and all its necessary crew?
No, a simple fishing boat would suffice, to be hired when desired.

I once had the opportunity of escorting an Arab yacht into port.
The views of the interior were breathtaking.

What would one do with money?
Buy everything one has ever wanted, I think not.
To be relaxed in the knowledge that few things are out of reach?
Possibly.
To be more able to cope with life when it becomes, simply boring?
Yes.

Or perhaps have the ability to know that if you choose to simply waste a day by following some trivial pastime, the world, as far as your bank account is concerned will remain virtually unaltered.

I wonder where I wander next.

I feel I’m nearing the end of this session.
It has been hard work trying to find subject matter,
I get confused over the spectacle of Ozzies family throwing huge hams over the neighbours fence in an attempt to cause irritation.
Jesus, he has a recording studio in his home and seldom uses it.

I pour myself a JD, leaving an inch in the bottom of the bottle for times when it may be required.
I realise there is no more lemonade.
I make the mistake of adding too much orange concentrate before having to leave the chair to venture into the kitchen for water.

I take the glass with me to the bathroom; have a piss and fill up the glass,
With water!
Tastes crap.
I roll up what will be my last rollie of the day.
I leave sufficient dog ends to warrant further foraging feasible.
Time approaches five.

I pour a carefully measured amount of JD into the orange powered drink and succeed in getting the mix, tolerable.
Enough left for a mouthwash, if need be.

I have read many blogs, but have yet to come across tales from the chair,
Or something similar, a diary of someone who is wheelchair bound.
Why not?

Tell us the amount of thought which goes into each and every movement.
The frustration and pain which everyday existence heaps upon you.

I am having a particularly dry today, in terms of writing.
I therefore think of finishing the drink, the tobacco and attempting to sleep for the duration of the day and night,
See what tomorrow brings.

More of the same, no doubt.
But who knows.

The thunder returns and by the look of the sky so will the downpours associated with such sounds.
Flamin’ June.

The makings of the last roll up are placed carefully onto the paper, broken up, and distributed evenly along the length of the paper and the last smoke is thus prepared.

I skin,
I spark,
My last.
I pick up my glass,
And drink my last.

I should have been called James!

What a fucking day! I have struggled to fill six hours and have had to admit defeat, take a tablet, and hope for sleep to erase the remainder of the day.

That is what Blogging must be all about, describing your day in such a way as to make even the most miserable of inhabitants of this sorry earth happy that they are alive and not in your shoes, or slippers, as the case may be.

Tomorrow is another day, revolving around whatever my mother can safely balance upon a dinner late, followed by the luxury of being laid out in a sweet smelling bath.
Today is too full of spelling mistakes and a such is destined to join the others in the garbage can.

I wish you BonSoir.

22 nd June.

2007-06-22T14:25:00.001+01:00

Friday, 22 June 2007
Woke up at 10, waited an hour and went for baccy.
Smoked last of gear last night before retiring and was rewarded with good sleep but back is still semi-rigid.
Weather is pleasant but clouds are definitely carrying rain, think all will change this afternoon.

Was going to do shopping etc. but think will postpone till Monday, or if shop open on Sundays will give it a try, it should be quiet.

Sky has greyed over and looks heavy with the potential of rain.
Have just had a look at site stats and seems I have a couple of American and French readers.
Hi and Bonjour.

Yesterday’s posting was a little different.
An experiment in which I simply followed a thread, gathering information whilst trying to provide insight into the problems of the writer.

It has taken a long time but I have finally dismissed all thoughts of my sectioning to have been a mistake.
I displayed all the symptoms and therefore was sucked into the authority’s care program.

Am I therefore right or wise to reject the course of medication?

As with many aspects of life, I am given a choice.
I may have a relapse; I may not.
I definitely feel more in control of my life,
Without the meds.
I cannot live with taking any tablets which can cause such large weight gain.

I believe that lifestyle factors are the most important triggers and therefore should be looked at in more detail when assessing a patient’s needs.
If a person successfully makes dramatic changes to their life then perhaps success in removing possible and probable triggers then medication will have no further effect.

Looking back I did what a lot of 50-year-old males would love to do.
I threw away 95% of my possessions.
Split with partner of over 20 years.
Got rid of accommodation which was heavily laden with responsibilities.
Broke away from accepted circle of associates.
Began a new life; almost.
Actively searched out a quiet, secure area to “live.”
Took time out to learn new things and contemplate future options.
Took the time to realise the effects of what was a traumatic episode in my life.
Realised that the episode, was merely a chapter, and as such would eventually be finished as another chapter began.

I read that if a patient is to have another episode it will usually manifest itself during the 12 to 18 months following release if a course of medication is not followed.
Hence the idea of starting a diary.
If such an episode was to come about, I would have some reference, hopefully to what triggered the episode.

I know for a fact that my life changes have been the biggest influence upon my present well being.
My mind is nowhere as confused, busy, or full of information and thought as when was when I was committed.
I have put the same amount of effort into understanding my problem as I used to, trying to learn any of the computer based topics I tried to learn when disturbed.
As a result I have acquired a form of in built regulatory system which monitors my moods, activities, and thoughts.
Looking for signs, of my grip slipping.

I have definitely learnt that the brain is not as capable of self repair as I first assumed.
We can all damage our brain and throw it off course, as easily as we can colour our disposition by our thoughts.

As stated earlier, my diagnosis was correct; the Authorities acted correctly in sectioning me, I now accept that.
With this simple act of acceptance I am able to release the initial feelings of anger which I held when I first considered my lifestyle to have been ruined by the interaction with the health services.
Anger, frustration, and desire to change were extremely prominent feelings when I was disturbed.
I have now had sufficient time to adjust and in doing so, and realising the actual advantages I have gained from the experience, I am able to function better.
I have a clearer mind; have hope for the future and experience gleaned from the episode, sufficient to allow me not to fear any possible re-occurrence.

Hell, after all the brain is just another part of our bodies and sometimes has to receive treatment, much like any other organ does.

An imbalance of chemicals in the brain.
In its simplest terms.
We cause imbalances in our systems almost daily.

I nearly burnt myself out, I accept that, but in doing so I gained knowledge of my personal limits.
Now realise what damage can be done by taking aspects of one’s life to the max.
Excess, in anything, can be harmful.

I know not how long I have taken to reach where I am today,
But I feel as if I am near to drawing a line under yet another section of my life.

For some, the diagnosis of the problem is followed by the threat of a lifetime reliant on a drug regime which does need a lot more research work.
Some become totally obsessed by their circumstances and live their lives around the condition.
I suffered a massive heart attack and consequently I have to take tablets which serve to alleviate the burden on the damaged heart, I understand what the medication does and therefore accept it.
I damaged my brain, confused and overworked it, allowed unnatural connections in the circuitry to be established, became fearful of the irrational paranoia which ensued.
My body and life was dictated by the damaged thought processes.
I received attention and have managed to return the activity to “normal.”
I therefore deem myself to be equipped with the knowledge which may or may not prevent a similar episode occurring.

I have a condition for which there is no miracle cure.
Snap, that’s what they said about the birth defect of the spine.
I will have to live with both.

There is of course no definition of normal.
So, the patient with a mental problem simply has to aim for,
Being able to function.

I felt I was unable to function while receiving medication which was powerful enough to control my mind, suppressing some functions and heightening others, often resulting in confusion and emotional stress.

Having a mental problem is very much like being classed as disabled but having no outward, easily discernable problem.
People see you as normal until you arrive in a wheelchair or exhibit irrational behaviour.

Why do I hesitate to add any further lines?
My original idea for writing daily posts was to keep track of my life and log any possible signals which would point towards causing a relapse.
To allow me to work on my memory problems.
To allow me time to remember and understand what had just happened to me.
To keep me away from the socially acceptable dependence on afternoon drinking.
To log my use of drugs and alcohol.
To highlight progress and failure.

I feel like I’ve come to the end of the mission.

My apparent enjoyment of writing has taken over from spending time drinking and as such has become a large part of my life involving me in an increase in computer usage.

If, as I fear I’m nearing completion then what has the future in store as far as continuing to use writing as a means of relaxing?
Should I simply stop?

After all, compulsive behaviour such as commitment to daily sessions of writing could be seen as a sign of a mental problem existing.
The abandonment of such a project can also be seen as a trademark of someone with a problem.
As can be over or under sleeping.
Nothing is clear-cut and everyone is so darn different yet connected, as to make the drawing of a benchmark, even a T.B.M. impossible.

(T.B.M? Temporary benchmark, termed used by surveyors and engineers).

I admit to experimenting with the limits of my brainpower.
I purposely overloaded it and tried to tap into resources which I believed at the time were available but knew not how to enter.

Once again,
Hermit bastard- stalked by a mountain lion, has caught my attention on the radio.

Write about something else?
As apposed to what?
I have covered a wide range of subjects and integrated many among the lines of the diary script.
I will never “become” a writer of any note because my life lacks enough stimulation from outside events.
I have nothing which I want to research and write about.
My situation was unique,
I wrote about an episode of my life which has occupied a certain length of time but which has now nearly reached its conclusion and therefore calls for me to move on.

To travel from being someone who believed all was lost.
To become a rational, calm if somewhat introspective person, with some understanding of what has happened and therefore feels able to cope.
Is a long journey.
One which many people fail to complete.

For them I feel pity,
For my own “success,”
I thank God.

I had the faith, remnants of belief in one’s own capabilities.
That faith was spawned early on in life when I first began to rely upon myself to solve as many of life’s problems as possible, on my own, not seeking outside help unless absolutely necessary.

For someone as self reliant as me to admit that I was unable to cope was not easy.
Once I realised that I did indeed need assistance and was unable to even begin to help myself.
Was then I realised how fragile I actually was.
How ill-equipped I actually was to handle the unexpected curve balls that life had decided to aim at me.
I was vulnerable and that fact was taught to me in no uncertain terms.

We are all aware of our own restrictions physically but are seldom aware of our often delicate mental conditions.

The young mum realises the potential danger of listening to her child cry non stop for no apparent reason, she understands the mixed emotions, the dangers of becoming angry.
If the bi-polar person is unaware of the potential triggers which exist in everyday life then yes some will fall ill.

Do I advise anyone else to take any notice of a guy who selectively uses cannabis and Alcohol yet refuses medication?
Of course not.

If the meds work for you and you feel safer for using them,
Then you have your personal solution.

I pour myself JD and lemonade and take time out.
I skin,
I spark a rollie.

I remember my conversation with the hospital’s resident figure of religious authority.
He told me he had written and successfully published a book,
I surmised it would be about his work in the hospital, and added,
You have an abundance of material, must have been easy.
“If you think it is so easy, why don’t you have a go?”
He asked.
Maybe I will, I had thought.
And what a great ending this would make.

I feel a sense of relief which one can only get from the completion of something.
I have chronicled my time after the episode, allowed the reader an insight into some of the actual episode yet haven’t gone into too much detail about the circumstances leading to same.
My writing began with only the ending preplanned.
I had no predetermined time to spend on project, no idea of its possible content or structure.
But it is finished, of that I’m sure.
In as much as, the reasons to begin have been sated.

I now intend to enjoy a couple of JD’s and relax.
It is indeed time to regain control over my present life and possibly make plans for a future.

I felt that unless I managed to control the demons of my past there was little hope for any future.
I have also learnt that any train of thought which starts with, “What if?” is potentially dangerous.
Yet the successful following of such a train of thought can be enlightening.

I am aware that some of my writing may leave me vulnerable to attack.
So what? I live in a world in which,
“You cannot please everyone”

Why is writing down one’s thoughts so different from attempting to keep the reader’s interest while leading them astray on a journey of fiction?

I enjoy writing, producing sounds, artwork, and experimenting with ways to relax.

Will I ever look at the books of writing I wrote prior to buying the computer?
I think not.
I chose to start and chose when to end.
There is a volume of work included in between.
So therefore my old English teacher would have been satisfied that the criteria of beginning, middle, and end have been satisfied.

If truth were known, it was my mother who, having got me interested in reading at an early age went on to show me examples of interesting writing.
She was also a brilliant artist, but never had the chance to experiment except for assisting me in projects.

To relax sufficiently to allow one to write as one would normally speak,
Speak aloud the thoughts present at the time.
Simply writing what one is thinking, without plan.

I cannot imagine what a true author must feel like when they actually come to the end of a project and type the last word.
Exhilaration, relief, sadness perhaps? I have no idea.

I look at the cloudy sky and am reassured by the knowledge that it will improve,
Times will get better and therefore life must be tolerated in the meantime.
My father, still hopes that someday I will be happy, meet a suitable partner and enjoy a reasonable standard of living.
I have always hoped for the same outcome but have been equally aware that time is indeed running out.

I am a totally different person from what I was say perhaps two years ago.
My whole outlook on life has changed.
Any dreams or expectations have long been removed or refined.
My perception on life has become more black and white as apposed to the dazzling array of digital colour which appears to dominate our lifestyles nowadays.
I am aware of my faults and have changed my way of thinking, to consider these foibles.
I am certainly more considerate of others.

What have you to lose? As a reader, spending a few minutes in my shoes.
Oi va voi- refugee. ( Sound track)

I actually feel deflated, I feel I have explored my experiences of a disorder to a limit which suits me, leaves me with a sense of reward for completion, and therefore has no further need to have such a huge influence on my future.

In truth I have mentally blocked many more parts of my past; this section will probably just end up keeping others company in the dark recesses of my mind.

I give myself a mental pat on the back for opting for JD on my last shopping trip,
I’m unashamedly enjoying it and may well go for the full effect.
How easy a bottle bought with the intention of combating pain can become a celebratatory drink.

Will any reader have the patience to plough through the first boring pages of this blog?
Will they be able to realise the different styles.
Discern the mood of the author by the content.
Notice progression from mood to mood.

Or have I been too successful in disguising the apparent haphazard style till nearing the end of the project.
Should I have been more open at the beginning, how could I have been when nothing was planned?

Am I even in my right mind to expect any feedback when I have tried my damnest to take away the usual expected threads of thought and subject.
My writing was blurred, as was my memory.
The content was fractured, as was my thought processes.

Can someone simply draw a line under part of their life and simply move on?
Yes.
I intend to try.

I will no longer try to evaluate anything by considering its degree of “normality.”
I am not normal; my life may be similar in some aspects to others but will never, I hope, be considered normal.

As I said previously, “it’s o.k. Being a sheep, as long as you are a cool sheep.”

People nowadays gauge their success in life upon many different criteria, keeping up with neighbours and availing themselves of whatever is in vogue.
Shallow and often undemanding, leading to joining the herd in pre-advertised fulfilment.
We seldom take the time to think what is really important in our lives and because of that flaw we often lose the vital components necessary for a happy existence.

O.k. perhaps fifty is too late in life to realise all this,
Or is it?

I may have had no notion of what I actually wanted in life but I reached an age when I was old enough to realise I hadn’t come anywhere near achieving what I’d wanted.
My life sucked and for a while I blamed everyone and everything in my life.
Before realising.
I was to blame.
My mind was a key and with it I could enter previously unknown territories.
The sub conscious and the conscious brain will combine to produce questions.
And if you take the time or are given the opportunity to consider those questions.
Surely something good will be the outcome.

Writing is a means of considering the options, you allow the thoughts to be put into script and in doing so you are considering each upon it’s own merit.
You allow some thoughts to mature by removing other invasive sections which have hitherto been clouding any processes.

I have successfully returned to a troubled time of my life and been able to understand the causes and come up with feasible alternatives and possible answers.

I have taken the daily monitoring of the agencies and supplied a little more meat on the bones.
Enough to provoke internal, personal debate and possibly supply answers.

It hasn’t been easy, and I’m not talking of the pressure of having to write something, anything, each day.
What I’ve left out has been equally important to the success of the finished project.

All this from someone who cannot remember what was written yesterday!
The joker- leaving you.(sound track)

I feel as if I have just witnessed the birth of something and am now enjoying the placenta as an after event nibble.

I could have so easily wrote a preface and described to the potential reader what I had in mind.
Truth is, I had no idea whatsoever what I had in mind, and never have for the duration.
This is the only true partition of the work when I feel I need to supply extra information.

I am now under the influence of JD, I have drunk enough to relieve the stiffness and pain, have reached a point where spell checker becomes a necessity, realising the futility of trying to get drunk on JD,
Ideally a couple of well loaded joints would have finished me off nicely.
I now have to once again reconsider the role and use of outside agencies in my everyday life.

My stomach cries out for me to stop, my mind knowing full well the glorious sleep which may be a possibility if just the correct amount is imbibed.

I will, no doubt, take it to the limit; disregarding any objections from brain or body.
I’m in the mood for a celebration but the guest list is severely limited.
I allow thoughts of Spike to enter my mind and roam around the now vast areas of emptiness.
Remembering the frequent visits of himself, and fellow artistes to places of recuperation supplied by the N.H.S.

Today’s events will occupy less than the average daily post yet be significant in the fact that I detected a sense of closure upon my past.
I celebrate that feeling.

True I would love to celebrate with others but I do not want to go through the hassle of explaining what has actually finished.

Will I wake up tomorrow feeling any different?
I sincerely hope so.

Enabling closure by laying something to rest is not easy, as any person who has grieved will no doubt tell you.
Putting a project to bed is equally difficult.

As is getting myself into the right frame of mind to return to same.
Hunz-you’re still here.
As the Phoenix arose from the ashes, so will I, given time.

Now I’m getting attacked by a stomach full of acid for drinking JD and smoking heavily.
Flaming June it may be, but I am cold, tired, and deflated and therefore plan to return to bed even though it has just turned six!

22 nd June.

2007-06-22T14:25:00.000+01:00

21 st June.

2007-06-21T17:30:00.000+01:00

21/06/2007
11:54
Yesterday didn’t turn out to be too bad a day; I scored at teatime and was lucky enough to catch some half decent television.
The discovery program about super ships and the building of the Eric Red in particular was interesting as was the Tropical season prog about wild life in the desserts.
I later watched a load of comedy then finished off watching the Poker for a while.

Today looks like a decent day, blue skies with little cloud and stiff breeze.

I now sit, reasonably relaxed.
Neck moving with a particular thread of the sounds, slowly from side to side, almost floating like some unsure lover on a waterbed.

"You suck"/"You suck worse" kind of debate.
(Which seems to be the level of most online discourse, come to think of it.)

OK, so the Internet opens up the avenue of mass communication to everyone.
So you get the blogs, be they good, bad, or indifferent.
You also get sites like YouTube and MySpace that encourage your lame personal video contributions and pathetic searches for friendship.
They do that because they've built their business models on the premise that you're a total loser in complete denial of the fact. That, and you have this incredible need to share.
What is the internet, if not a narcissist's dream come true?

Prosaicadj
1. Unpoetic; unimaginative.2. Dull, ordinary and uninteresting.
Thesaurus: dull, routine, stale, trite, tame, everyday, flat, mundane, boring, commonplace, quotidian, banal, uninspiring, vapid, pedestrian, matter-of-fact; Antonym: interesting.

I’d been looking for keywords to describe the blog and here this guy delivered to the tee.

Antonymnoun
1. A word that in certain contexts is the opposite in meaning to another word,

Blogging is all about subjectivity

1
subjectivity, subjectiveness

judgment based on individual personal impressions and feelings and opinions rather than external facts

It might make blogs interesting and fun to read.

It might even make them informative. It does not make them journalism.

http://www.wired.com/culture/lifestyle/commentary/theluddite/2007/06/luddite_0621?currentPage=all

Good read; obviously about Blogging versus Journalism.
Are the big boys worried?

http://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/news/2007/06/nicotine

This one, some surprising revelations about the use of Nicotine as the future cure all.

Give the masses the medicine they actually need?
In a form that will no longer kill them.

Personalized medicine technologies, which can predict when a patient might respond badly to a particular drug, have the potential to significantly reduce the 2 million hospitalizations and 1 million deaths caused by adverse drug reactions every year, according to the Pharmacogenomics Journal.
http://www.wired.com/medtech/drugs/news/2007/03/72860

Recent studies have found that antidepressants and antipsychotics are often ineffective. Many patients stop taking their drugs because they're ineffective or intolerable.

According to studies conducted in Finland in patients with epilepsy, valproate may increase testosterone levels in teenage girls and produce polycystic ovary syndrome in women who began taking the medication before age 20.8 Increased testosterone can lead to polycystic ovary syndrome with irregular or absent menses, obesity, and abnormal growth of hair. Therefore, young female patients taking valproate should be monitored carefully by a physician.
Could explain the amount of weird looking fat chicks!
Only joking ladies.
Frightening what fucking drugs they are prescribing for kids as young as three.

In some cases, the newer, atypical antipsychotic drugs such as clozapine or Olanzapine may help relieve severe or refractory symptoms of bipolar disorder and prevent recurrences of mania. More research is needed to establish the safety and efficacy of atypical antipsychotics as long-term treatments for this disorder.
Yes you have guessed which meds I was put on.
The statement of recognition of the fact that, indeed, “more research is needed before proof of efficaciousness can be found on which to base sounds decisions as to whether or not to continue prescription.

Efficacious, always loved that word since first hearing, “Lilly the pink.”
Fucking Scaffold!
Could never figure out why the “lads” or chapesses haven’t turned the song into a drinking game,
Wouldn’t burn too many grey cells to come up with instructional lyrics.

So far, I’ve made light of my experiences of the state mental health authority.

A thought crossed my mind,
Would any potential reader change their view of the ramblings if they, perhaps understood more?

Researchers are using advanced imaging techniques to examine brain function and structure in people with bipolar disorder.10,11

An important area of imaging research focuses on identifying and characterizing networks of interconnected nerve cells in the brain,
interactions among which form the basis for normal and abnormal behaviours.

Researchers hypothesize that abnormalities in the structure and/or function of certain brain circuits could underlie bipolar and other mood disorders.
Better understanding of the neural circuits involved in regulating mood states will influence the development of new and better treatments, and will ultimately aid in diagnosis.
They want to get into our minds and see how the wiring is.

I therefore provide a link to this page.
http://www.nimh.nih.gov/publicat/manic.cfm - 10

Being pleasantly stoned, I take a break, step back and try to make sense of what has been written.
In deed very little has been written, most of content supplied by comments and suggested links.

I skin,
Sniff my fingers,
Spark.

You may read the above page and think to yourself, deservedly so,
“That guy is pretty well fucked up.”
I confirm the fact by informing you, that when I read it,
I see myself, 100%.

I admit I see myself and recognise a lot of the “trips” taken by the likes of me.
I eventually accepted your power and took required meds during hospitalisation.
I did one hell of a lot of research on the web when I got out.
Went on to various beeper sites, read how the meds were ruling their lives.
They talked openly about the undesirable side effects of being turned into a zombie and severely restricted to what you can do.

But, you’re a stoner,
You should like that kind of existence, because believe me being on meds is not living.

Judging by the sheer diversity of the treatments with or without drugs,
Yes, believe me there is a huge choice of treatments out there, theories abound everywhere.
But, I agree, until more research is carried out and you can convince me the cure is not worse than the condition.
I will decide which drugs I use to
Fuck up my own brain, thank you.

I base my decision on the past thirty years research and consequential use of a substance which in general, does what it says on the can.

I will choose to play Russian roulette with every day rather than exist in the land of the,
Long Day,
Because that is what life becomes when you are on the meds,
One day tumbles reluctantly into the path of the next and becomes one, snowballing.
You are often forced to lie down and succumb to its power.

The more I describe it the similar it becomes to gear.

Who knows? Perhaps I really should look at the healthier options available on the NHS as an alternative to damaging smoke ingestion of Cannabis.
Perhaps these kind people in white coats were merely acting as salespeople, offering to you their wares to try in a safe environment.

Anyone who has witnessed the anxiety among patients waiting for their meds before bedtime.
Will also have felt their joy, at receiving their perceived, personal elixir.
http://faculty.washington.edu/chudler/bipolar.html
This one I throw in, in case I missed it earlier.

White matter hyperintensities: small abnormal areas in the white matter of the brain (especially in the frontal lobe) as seen using magnetic resonance imaging. These abnormalities may be caused by the loss of myelin or axons.
Could that loss be due to over stimulation by an outside agent, i.e. drug?

What Does Sleep Do For Us?
Although scientists are still trying to learn exactly why people need sleep, animal studies show that sleep is necessary for survival.
For example, while rats normally live for two to three years,
Those deprived of REM sleep survive only about 5 weeks on average,
And rats deprived of all sleep stages live only about 3 weeks.

Sleep-deprived rats also develop abnormally low body temperatures and sores on their tail and paws.
The sores may develop because the rats' immune systems become impaired. Some studies suggest that sleep deprivation affects the immune system in detrimental ways

So if you want to stop the rats moving in, leave the stereo on.

Sleep also may give the brain a chance to exercise important neuronal connections that might otherwise deteriorate from lack of activity.
Does that mean, work on your memories?

Until the 1950s, most people thought of sleep as a passive, dormant part of our daily lives.
We now know that our brains are very active during sleep.
Moreover, sleep affects our daily functioning and our physical and mental health in many ways that we are just beginning to understand.

Another case of “more research needed.”

Research also suggests that a chemical called adenosine builds up in our blood while we are awake and causes drowsiness. This chemical gradually breaks down while we sleep.
New one on me.

Many people who suffer from insomnia try to solve the problem with alcohol – the so-called nightcap. While alcohol does help people fall into light sleep, it also robs them of REM and the deeper, more restorative stages of sleep.
Instead, it keeps them in the lighter stages of sleep, from which they can be awakened easily.

You tried waking a drunk up?

Shift workers have an increased risk of heart problems, digestive disturbances, and emotional and mental problems,
all of which may be related to their sleeping problems.

The number and severity of workplace accidents also tend to increase during the night shift.
Major industrial accidents attributed partly to errors made by fatigued night-shift workers include the Exxon Valdez oil spill and the Three Mile Island and Chernobyl nuclear power plant accidents.
One study also found that medical interns working on the night shift are twice as likely as others to misinterpret hospital test records,
Which could endanger their patients.
It may be possible to reduce shift-related fatigue by using bright lights in the workplace,
Minimizing shift changes,
And taking scheduled naps.

Because the potential side effects of melatonin supplements are still largely unknown, most experts discourage melatonin use by the general public.

Sleeping problems occur in almost all people with mental disorders,
including those with depression and schizophrenia.
People with depression, for example, often awaken in the early hours of the morning and find themselves unable to get back to sleep.
The amount of sleep a person gets also strongly influences the symptoms of mental disorders.
Sleep deprivation is an effective therapy for people with certain types of depression, while it can actually cause depression in other people.
Extreme sleep deprivation can lead to a seemingly psychotic state of paranoia and hallucinations in otherwise healthy people, and disrupted sleep can trigger episodes of mania (agitation and hyperactivity) in people with manic depression.

Sleep apnea is a disorder of interrupted breathing during sleep. It usually occurs in association with fat build-up or loss of muscle tone with aging.
These changes allow the windpipe to collapse during breathing when muscles relax during sleep (see figure 3 ).
This problem, called obstructive sleep apnea, is usually associated with loud snoring (though not everyone who snores has this disorder).

Sleep apnea also can occur if the neurons that control breathing malfunction during sleep.
During an episode of obstructive apnea, the person's effort to inhale air creates suction that collapses the windpipe.
This blocks the air flow for 10 seconds to a minute while the sleeping person struggles to breathe.
When the person's blood oxygen level falls, the brain responds by awakening the person enough to tighten the upper airway muscles and open the windpipe.
The person may snort or gasp, then resume snoring.
This cycle may be repeated hundreds of times a night.
The frequent awakenings that sleep apnea patients experience leave them continually sleepy and may lead to personality changes such as irritability or depression.
Sleep apnea also deprives the person of oxygen, which can lead to morning headaches, a loss of interest in sex, or a decline in mental functioning.
It also is linked to high blood pressure, irregular heartbeats, and an increased risk of heart attacks and stroke.
Patients with severe, untreated sleep apnea are two to three times more likely to have automobile accidents than the general population. In some high-risk individuals, sleep apnea may even lead to sudden death from respiratory arrest during sleep.

Thinking, starting to get a little risky, this sleeping lark.

Insomnia is big business.” Public fervour for melatonin runs far ahead of the scientific evidence to support it," states an article about the NIH workshop in the Journal of the American Medical Association, referring to the reported $200 million to $350 million U.S. market for the hormone.

People are taking melatonin and we are trying to figure out what it does," said one researcher who attended the NIH meeting.
"We are going about it backward."
NIH sleep expert James Kiley, M.D., agrees that many questions about the supplement remain unanswered:
"We need some research to address the concerns about melatonin and its safety and efficacy."

More research again.
The manual classifies manic-depressive illness as a "mood disorder," a designation that also includes altered mood due to a medical condition or taking a mood-altering substance.
Yale University professor of psychiatry Joel Gelernter, M.D., describes the causes of manic-depressive illness as "utterly unknown"
But in some cases, the condition, or susceptibility to it, appears to be inherited

Drug treatment for manic-depressive illness has a long and fascinating history. Lithium's effects on manic-depressive illness were discovered by chance in 1949 by an Australian physician named John Cade.
He used lithium to treat gout in hamsters, and they calmed down.
"They would sit and be quiet instead of running around their cages,"

Probably, just taking a breather.

Couldn’t make this fucking stuff up? Could you?
A hamster getting treated for gout,
No wonder can never get to see your doctor.
Giving them Lithium,

Tests on humans in Australia in the 1960s showed that lithium alleviated symptoms of mania.
I did at first question the use of those two words in the same sentence, but then thought, “this is beginning to make sense,”
They choose a fairly well isolated population to test mind-altering drugs on.

FDA approved lithium in 1971 for treating manic episodes of manic-depressive illness.

Treatment can radically improve the life of a person suffering from manic-depressive illness.
One of the most frustrating aspects of this disorder, patients say, is the delay until they are diagnosed.
Sometimes young people endure years of punishment for bad behaviour, followed by misdiagnoses, before discovering that their mood swings are part of a chronic but on-again off-again illness.
Finding an effective treatment is an enormous relief, to them and their families.

This is what happened for Melissa Kluth, who says, "I'm 18, and I think I've had manic-depression all my life.
When I was younger, an allergist said it was attention deficit disorder, so I was put on Ritalin to treat that.
But when I became a teenager, in the eighth grade, I became suicidal.
This past February, I just couldn't deal with it. I just wasn't myself."
Since her psychiatrist put her on Depakote, Kluth says, she feels more like a "normal" person on the brink of adulthood--and looks forward to a much brighter future.

"Throw away your eyeglasses," and unsubstantiated claims about success rates could be misleading to consumers considering,
Laser eye surgery.
http://www.fda.gov/fdac/features/1998/498_eye.html

Ultimate freedom from the everyday hassles of contact lenses, and a second chance at having normal eyesight. But can everyone expect such dramatic results?
"The answer is no," says Rosenthal. "It's not a foolproof procedure and people need to know that some can end up with worse eyesight than before they went in."

Regression: In some patients the effect of refractive surgery is gradually lost over several months. This is like an undercorrection, and a re-treatment is often feasible.

Problems with a Perfect Procedure: Even when everything goes perfectly, there are effects that might cause some dissatisfaction.
Older patients should be aware that they can't have both good distance vision and good near vision in the same eye without corrective lenses.
Some myopic patients rely on their myopia (by taking off their glasses, or by wearing a weaker prescription) to allow them to read.
Such a patient may need reading glasses after the myopia is surgically corrected. Another consideration is the delay between eye treatments.
If one eye is being done at a time, then the eyes may not work well together during the time between treatments.
If a contact lens is not tolerated on the unoperated eye, work and driving may be awkward or impossible until the second eye has been treated.

PRODUCT: Raisins, at Porterville, Calif. (E.D. Calif.); Civil Action No. CV-F-94-5724-REC.CHARGED 7-18-94: While held for sale after shipment in interstate commerce at Stephen Pavich & Sons, in Porterville, Calif., the articles were adulterated in that they consisted in part of a filthy substance, specifically insects, insect casts, insect eggs, insect fragments, rat or mouse hair, feather fragments, and cat or dog hair--402(a)(3).DISPOSITION: The articles were reconditioned. (F.D.C. No. 67001; S. No. 94-705-726; S.J. No. 4)

?reconditioned?

A year and a half after an estimated $1 million worth of insect-infested food products were seized, an Elk Grove, Ill., firm received permission from FDA to sell approximately 880,000 pounds of reconditioned products. Another 33,000 pounds of food, valued at about $1 per pound, could not be salvaged and was destroyed.
House of Spices finished reconditioning its rice, lentils, mung beans, spices, and other foods last May 5. The firm paid $10,400 for FDA's supervision of the reconditioning.
FDA Chicago district investigators inspected the firm's warehouse Oct. 13 to 19, 1993, after the State of Illinois embargoed 916,000 pounds of foods packed in cloth, paper and cardboard containers.

http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0846/is_5_21/ai_82333620

2007-06-20T12:59:00.001+01:00

20/06/2007

11:23
Have been up an hour.
Had an excellent sleep last night, after finding a comfortable position quite quickly.
I dreamt of funerals,
Not too disturbing, since I wasn’t the corpse.

When I went to bed last night the rain was “Hoying it down!”, very noisily.

Woke up to a blue sky; welcome change.
Looking at the garden, huge pool of water on the concrete near the front door; evidence of last night’s downpour.
Every Livingstone daisy trying its best to attract attention of any passers by.
Looking good.

I’d collected my mail and received confirmation of my broadband speed having been reverted to old speed, saving me some £7.00 per month.
News of my BT phone bill is to be cut, by a few pence.
E. Mail sorted, couple of practise tests for course section.

I awoke in a positive frame of mind, even considered going out for the day in the car, but soon realised any such plans would have to be shelved.

My lower back is solid!
Having no dope, or useful painkillers, to remedy the situation.
(I just now remember the painkillers I bought over the counter while on holiday,)
Will have to unpack soon.

I look at the weather forecast for the area and see that today is indeed the best day of the week.

Whilst sat in the porcelain smoking the remnants of the ashtray, I take the time to organise the week ahead.
I have to go into the village tomorrow; I need shopping, need some exercise.
I have numerous small jobs to do in the flat so I decide to complete those jobs and tackle the pain problem with a tried and tested solution.
A bottle of Jack D.
I now sit looking at the portion of blue sky which is viewable, look at the white clouds which look as if they could oh so easily turn into rain clouds, sip my JD and lemonade, and am in truth, relaxed.

I mention being in a positive mood, I had words with myself last night while laid in bed trying to get comfortable,
The upshot of the debate being that I have to get a grip on my life again and make more of an effort.

I feel so fucking useless when unable to do even the simplest of tasks, like hovering without paying a high price in terms of pain.
I look around the flat; lots of things I notice need doing.
I will just have to take my time.
Possible reward being a soak in the mini bath when tasks completed.

Having a disability, which isn’t obvious but none the less inflicts pain, is a twat.
Plans cannot be made with any degree of certainty and as often as not I am obliged to tailor each day around the circumstances present upon awakening.

Readers may think the answer is not to get stoned or mildly intoxicated with alcohol,
But when pain is present, any remedy is appreciated.
I did not buy the bottle with the intention of getting hammered, merely as a way of slowly relaxing the stranglehold which the pain now has on my lower back.
I have faith that within a little while I will be able to do some light housework and having achieved that will be rewarded with the satisfaction that once again I have refused to be beaten into submission.

I have concluded that a renewed effort must be made to cling on to some form of activity before realising that in the last few years my ability to lead a “normal” life has decreased dramatically.

For decades I’ve struggled against different levels of pain and done many things which I knew full well, at the time, I shouldn’t have even contemplated doing.
But now, the restriction imposed by the pain is different.
It is disabilitating, with little or no room for discussion.

I had a couple of hours on the Casio, yesterday and realised there is a lot of serious study to be done to fully understand the potential of the machine.
I do not mind that in the least. I played some tunes from the 30’s to the 70’s then concentrated upon the Saxophone voices, I have ideas in mind for utilising the P.C. with regards to music production.

The JD has warmed me through, leaving its distinctive taste in the mouth.
I look at the clouds; they have joined and look more ominous.
Perhaps I have been correct in choosing not to venture out.

Self respect,
Now there’s a phrase often mis-used.

I make an effort to steer away from the subject.

I see the neighbours, living off the sofa, surrounded by months of junk mail on the floor,
They are unwashed, unshaven, their abodes, unkept and neglected.
It is so fucking easy to slip into that kind of existence.
You either have little or no contact with the outside world, and therefore do not care.
Or, because of lifestyle you only meet people who are in the same frame of mind, they don’t give a shit so why should you?

The clouds have lost their white sheen and are now threateningly grey and solid in structure.
I pour myself another drink.
I answer the phone, and once again someone apologises for having dialled the wrong number.

I remember I received a call last night and arranged for them to call me back today at eleven,
I’m unable to check to see if such a call was received while I was at the shop because some berk has dialled the wrong number.
I hate bloody phones!

The blue of the sky has all but disappeared, a few shafts of sunlight still fall on the plant on the window sill which highlights the fact that it is still in need of repotting, a task I’ve ignored for over a week now.

This is what happens to the single gut living a solitary life,
Eventually, nothing holds a degree of urgency no more.
One doesn’t even have to think of a viable excuse,
Tasks are merely ignored.
And with that ignoring comes a disregard for personal self respect as esteem lowers progressively.

I decided the repotting of the plant will be my first job of the day,
If, and when I decide to start.
I will have another half hour of relaxing and then do an hour of toil.
May even have a shave, in readiness, for tomorrow’s jolly to the shops.
How fucking exciting is that?

My mind and body feel as if they could so easily just switch off,
I care for nothing and could simply turn my back on the daylight hours and return to sleep, seeking an answer for all that ails me.

The more disabled a person becomes the more desperate he or she becomes,
They need to feel that the hours following wakening have been filled with something useful, constructive possibly, but at the very least worthwhile.

We all need to feel alive, to have a reason d’etre, some lucky few get job satisfaction, others care for a family and see their responsibilities lie in ensuring their charges are guided safely through each day of their lives, giving whatever guidance or assistance as deemed necessary.
Some are led by reward others by the gratitude of others.

When life becomes no more than a trip along an emery roller coaster, each day shaving off more and more, it becomes merely an existence.
Until,
Life itself is pared down to the absolute minimum and becomes solely a regular fight to survive the drudgery of every day.

I am lucky, in as much as I do have options, keyboards, art, writing, getting stoned, drinking, and perhaps the odd session of masturbation.
I have information available to me; still possess the ability to learn new things and the intelligence(?) to consider options available.

I see myself running towards the “ reasons to be cheerful” pathway.
Cheers Ian.
Perhaps I need a good beating with a “rhythm stick.”

Many people have the excuse that their life is so because….
Of many outside influences.
My chosen life of almost total isolation can only supply one reason for any aspect of my life being unacceptable.
It is my fault, and mine alone.
As such it logically turns out that I am also the only person who can exercise any control over events.
And this, at times is a big responsibility.

I shrug the weight of despondency off my shoulders and take time out to do something,
Potting the plant, for a start.

Plant transferred to new home; will it survive?
Time will tell.
Possibly, like me it will need time to adjust or it may be too traumatised to cope.

My speaker system has just returned to what it should sound like after being slightly muffled for the last few days.

I really am in the mood to put a line through today and hope that tomorrow brings?
A different state of mind.
Because people with disabilities tend to be less active do not make the mistake that we no longer think of things which need doing,
Even though we may not be capable of doing same.

The JD has settled in my stomach and I once again feel hungry, yet am reluctant to eat, trying as I am to lose some weight.

I pour myself another drink and try a touch of concentrated orange, unfortunately the bottle tips, and too much orange ends up in the mix.
Drink spoilt, I tell myself off for being too idle to go to the fridge for ice and make do with what I have got.

The last sentence has summed up what I and millions of others do every day.
Make do with what we have got.
The time is approaching 2 and the lads in the club will be thinking about “boxing” the doms.
(50 pence each in and last double claims the lot.)
That is their choice, they choose to try and organise a couple of hours each day to play a game, followed by a further couple of hours drinking and then home to food and sleep, thus giving them a feeling of completing something that day.

Obviously health problems and being on a low income does limit one’s expectations but some do retain the right to dream wish or even realistically consider any possibilities which may allow greater freedom.

I am alive and therefore should be glad?
On certain days depression tends to blur the obvious and the gift of life can often be a burden.

That is as low as I will allow myself to go,
I know full well the dangers of succumbing to depressive thoughts and have learnt to realise the signals and steer away from any such routes.

True there are numerous small tasks, which, in my opinion need to be done,
But all of these tasks will inevitably only provide satisfaction a dn indeed only be known to one person and that is myself.
I care not that music books can be seen on top of the keyboards, they would undoubtedly look neater if hidden from view be that mine or anyone who may surprise me with a visit, why should I be bothered.

The number one task today would be the alleviation of pain and general pulling up of the boots to escape from what is commonly described in simple terms as the doldrums.
And, I blame the English climate for this recent bout of doldrums,
Having waited all winter I’m now treated to the occasional glimpse of sunlight.
How I would love to spend a month or two in some sunnier clime!
But like the kids from South park so eloquently stated.
“If you are not rooting for your team, then get the fuck out of the ballpark.”

I have reached the level of the label on the bottle, look at the clock and decide a couple of more swift drinks before the hour is up and then possibly return to bed.
If I was abroad that would be a natural idea.

At times life can be so fucking boringly repetitive that you just decide; enough is enough.
Then I presume is when being bi-polar comes into it’s own.
One can escape by immersing the brain into another an alternative dimension.

I have tended to “harp on” a lot about practising control over one’s mind, but to keep hold of the thin straps of sanity I have practised virtual living in several different mind states.

I feel this is not the time to delve further into that subject, save for saying that often as not the ability to change ones perception of the situation and surroundings allows some degree of escapism.
I do not want to go too deep; for example, if pissed off with what surrounds you, take a photo and view it on your monitor and see it from what apparently seems to be a different angle and perspective.
I am not advocating anyone to compare their lives to that of their neighbours but to simply see what is definitely there in a new light.

I look at the price label on the bottle and remember the shops that sell sour mash at less than half the price of JD and remember the harshness of taste and somewhat unpredictable outcome of a session on same.

I, at one time, fantasised about being looked over by an angel, a PC angel looking after the welfare of myself and my machine.
How I would love one now.
See, it doesn’t matter how far the mind strays from the straight and narrow the memories if strong enough, will abide.

What would be the ideal outcome for me, what would make me content ?
Simply to meet a woman who is self-sufficient and has a mind of her own.
Hell I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t spend some of their waking life thinking about income, appearance, or self worth.
And the chances are I never will.
Fact; I never will in the circles which exist hereabouts.
So therefore I am obliged rather than forced to accept my lot and make the most out of it,
And one can only do that by being extremely selfish.
Satisfy one’s own ego trips, need for gratification etc.

I asked a woman one day what she would like for Xmas,
She replied, “enough money to spare to treat her grandkids to a meal in a local supermarket café.”
I gave her some money and was fortunate to actually witness the event, by pure chance after seeking somewhere, for a sit down.
Of all the notes which have passed from wallet to hand that must be the most rewarding.

When one is in a mood like this, uncertainty rules.
You can never be aware of the causes and similarly are unsure as to what may.
Provide relief, if indeed relief is necessary.

Do something new, frightening and challenging every day.
I do, I wake up.

It may seem a cynical thing to say but often the prospect of the envitable “ big sleep” seems to be a welcome option.

I have been adopted by a new pet,
The larger than normal bluebottle is busy surveying it’s new home.
Is it looking for a way out? Or simply viewing the possibility of what life could have been if it had been delivered from the warmth of a womb instead of the insides of a pupa.

I return to the latest comment about my site, stating it was shite and my doctrines unacceptable.
Doctrines?
Hell, I don’t preach, just log the passing hours.

We all seek camouflage; we mingle with like-minded souls and keep away from circles which may see us for what we really are.
Some are strong enough to live in solitude in their own comfortable worlds.
Others, like me will trip from one to the other, looking all the while for a chance to link up with someone searching for a mate to share their world, be it socially or hidden behind whatever they have constructed.

The mind is capable of building walls and barriers as good as any tradesman.
Computer security is far inferior to the systems set up by people who no longer want to the play the game.

The mind is ever so powerful, yet so many people fail to recognise the fact;
I’m not talking intelligence or ability to control body functions.
I mean the mind as a tool.
As with any other tool it has to be cared for, honed, respected, and kept safe.

Are you a spider or a robot?
Good question.
What will you become? A spider or a robot.
Equally good question.

What’s yours?
My favourite question.

I sense that jack and I may have spent sufficient time together and the next drink will be the last before we part.
Am I drunk? No way! Have I relaxed? Yes.
Did I make the right decision this morning upon waking?
I think so.

The sky is now full of lines of heavy grey cloud, the temperature has dropped, and it looks like we will be treated to another night of rain.
Which will please some people no doubt.

I have just received a phone call from the people who took over the care insurance policy when the suppliers of my Plasma went out of business.
I explained that £13.00 per month is way too much to be charged for the privilege of talking to some Indian who basically hasn’t got a clue,
Technically.
Knowing my luck the set will probably break down quite soon.
Should I be surprised, should anyone, knowing that the expected life span is as low as 18 months.
I kid you not.

I use the set, primarily as a monitor and as such it is ace.

I hate insurance deals, often offered as part of sales of computer and digital equipment.
Nothing lasts forever, ask Ollie,
Oh by the way that was the funeral I was attending,
Ollie’s.
Cannot remember his second name but I’m sure you will well, if I mention hell raiser and big drinker.

Another month or so I will have finished my project of writing for a year, thus freeing up valuable hyperspace for more deserving written articles.
I will also have finished the course work by then and have yet another useless qualification to add to the collection.

As a child I was told pieces of paper were important,
As a rebellious young lout I deemed them not to be so,
The person is important.
Anyone can spew out read material on demand.
Hell, just look at the number of “writers” re hashing old books.

I steer away from being cynical and head for an open road.

Where next? As my father would ask , after safely entombing my mother and myself into the confines of the car.
Wherever next?
I wonder.

Some of you may read this tripe and wonder why this guy doesn’t seek help,
Perhaps the mental care authorities have the ability to provide alternatives for passing the time away.
In truth , they have, but there’s only so much potato printing, lino printing and whatever that stupid past time of putting numbers into squares is called.

I believe that the way to recover from any mental illness is to be allowed the freedom to be on one’s own and take the time to slowly think things through.
Past and present, both have to be assessed.

19 th June.

2007-06-19T10:06:00.000+01:00

19/06/2007
09:28
Woken up to another dull, grey day.
For some reason the view has changed to pages and I suspect this is putting me off somewhat.
I had some trouble yesterday with script for post becoming coloured wed page, and now I’m in print layout view.
I change to Web layout and return to the familiar endless white space.

My care worker did say he felt I had got something from doing the course.
I agreed and added I was learning every day,
Still.

I’ve spent a couple of hours looking at accommodation and travel to Holland, and am still undecided.

A week in Amsterdam, dodging the Charlie dealers, pickpockets, and traffic while sampling the goods is going to cost in the region of £500.
A full week in England on the gear costs me £70, no hassle at all.

I change my radio tuner to Blues but am not happy with the amount of singing so return to smooth jazz.
Slowly the Tinnitus eases down and becomes a steady high-pitched, almost constant whistle.

Father is due down in an hour or so.
Indeed, he phones as I write and informs me he will be down at 10.30.
Weather is not too good, but he adds that it is just right for putting plants out.

Will have to hoover and remove the green covering from the carpet.
The communal area of grass has just been cut and invariably everyone’s carpets become covered in grass clippings paddled in after each venture outside.

I added some extra features to the blog yesterday, nothing flash just a couple of extras which may provide extra interest and a chance for the potential reader to relax.

I must admit when I first began the site I looked at the huge range of extras and was tempted but have decided to keep it as simple as possible, not wanting to turn it into a replica of My space or similar.

Seems my course work was acceptable and I have sent in a request for practise tests.
I have one more section left, databases and then I presume the last test before receiving my award.
Will be glad, when, it is finished.

How do I feel today?
Different from the previous week or so,
Am in the mood to assist father with planting and then perhaps finishing off tidying the flat up, getting unpacked and generally chill out.
I did make enquiries yesterday and some more gear was expected later that night.
Judging by the amount of human traffic around the close in the early hours of the morning, I suspect the delivery has indeed been made.
I break to hoover.

Father arrived as I was finishing and we promptly got stuck into garden.
He planted about 80 petunias and I did my best to do a little weeding.
He eventually left, returning home for a huge dinner no doubt.

I sat, passed a little time away, and returned to bed.

I didn’t go to sleep, merely laid in several different positions trying to ease the pain in my back and neck brought on by the hovering and bending whilst gardening.

I had asked the nearest dealer but apparently the cupboard is bare!

Spent an hour or so on Internet plugging URL, don’t know why.

Now, having got room sufficiently warmed up, I’ll watch my usual early evening television programs and have an early night.
Am in a lot of pain, one of those days when doesn’t matter how many times you think of reasons to be cheerful.
Life sucks!

2007-06-18T14:31:00.000+01:00

18/06/2007
12:29
I woke up at 12, having had a brilliant sleep, with a dry mouth and launched myself into first cuppa of the day.
I scrabble about among the dog ends in the ashtray and make myself a rollie.

By chance I happen to spot that I have left sufficient gear for maybe two joints.
Unfortunately after stripping the remaining dogends there is only sufficient baccy for one joint.

I now sit toking on a well loaded joint.

I had glanced down at the front door prior to entering the bathroom for a somewhat painful exercise in chopping a log.
There was indeed mail sticking out of the letter box, also the whole coat rack and contents, including my “suit” carrier which has been enjoying temporary residence since return from hols.
Everything was on the floor, and indeed remains so.

The rack will have to be replaced.
Lovely pine coat rack I fashioned out of a piece of a pine bunk bed I’d found discarded in the backstreet.
If I remember rightly I also made a matching toilet roll holder.
That was back in the days when I used to enjoy working with scraps of wood; had to be scrap wood, and a spokeshave and few other tools.

I would have loved to have been blessed with the ability to look at a piece of wood, realise its hidden potential and produce a unique carving.
I peaked at reproducing household goods.
Another example of what Mother necessity can teach you in her round about fashion.
Soon taught me how to wallpaper when I found out how much a “professional” charges.

Watched a guy glue several pieces of plywood together,
Stare at it as it set while under constant pressure from an assortment of clamps.
The wood , not him.
Satisfied he would pick up his first tool,
Big, fuck off,
Chainsaw.

Within seconds he was lopping off pieces of this board,
First part finished, he went on to concentrate on the many different grains,
Some he would blend, others he would highlight the obvious differences of one to its neighbour.
Often stark differences.
Absolutely perfect, he takes it to the limit,
You feel, one more touch and he would have spoilt it,
It felt as if every ounce of potential had been gleaned from,
What is basically a collection of plywood stuck together.
Your eyes travel along the grains and notices the beauty of the surrounding hues of neutral colours.
Yes, I know its bad grammar.

I would have like to have a go at that,
Would probably end up with a pile of woodchips after trying the chainsaw,
But I did like what he did with the grains.
That’s why I liked to work with wood with which you could make a feature of the grain.
I sanded the wax and stain off a newly laid floor to get to see the grain!
Burnt several power sanders out and had to have them exchanged at my chosen shop on a daily basis.
Bless you Argos.
I did however make the mistake of using a high gloss varnish,
Which was fucking lethal,]

All the grandbairns in their socks using it for a skating rink and going arse over tit.
It was funny on occasions, but the racket they make after being suddenly inverted and having their head twatted against the floor,
Spoils the humour.

Having just finished the joint, I feel I will finish the story.
The floor was lethal,
I of course had to have the animal skin on the floor,
Some obscure yak skin, goat, or whatever.
Stand on that and you are certain to be upskittled.
Had to tether it under the two legs of a heavy cabinet seat I’d picked up in the second hand shop, for that very purpose.
I decided it had become too much of a hazard when I fell three times in quick succession when stoned one night.
Ended up face down,
On the rug,
They don’t half stink them rugs!
True you have to be at close quarters, but they do niff.

Out once again, the power sander,
A brand new one,
I’d swapped the last survivor of the de waxing for a new one,
Naturally.
The varnish came off remarkably easy and the machine proved itself very efficient in its role of what it was originally designed to do.
Remove varnish.

A close friend gave me some varnish,
About three gallons,
Apparently he had once been a caretaker,
Designed for use in school halls,
Non slip.

And indeed it was, it did a good job,
Beautiful finish.

Then someone comes in,
And says,
Oh! That’s a nice bit of laminate.

It was about then when I began to stop paying attention to the hundreds of faults which existed in the house.

I loved to pace around the floor, barefoot, feeling the icy blasts of the draught at floor level.
Hell I had 18 feet of radiator heating that room,
Yet my feet were frozen.
Where the fuck was the draught coming from?

I didn’t need my reading glasses on to find the answer.
The whole lengths of the two outside walls, some thirty foot, was,
Up to an inch and a half under the skirting boards.
I did think filler but after trying every filler on the market,
Stall.
I had to resort to, think body filler, car repair.
When you stuffed the hole in your car with the nearest newspaper and plastered cattie all over.
I was a no reward job,
The gap changed with the seasons, the wood contacted and expanded.
I’m sure the gap got bigger every year!
So did some of the cracks in the walls.
It was, after all a big house to be standing on a row of cobbles.

I have just spent a somewhat uncomfortable at times, 20 minutes with my care worker.
I of course had to open the window, lean out and explain it may take a while for me to remove the obstacles blocking his possible entry.
“The fucking coat rack has fell down,” I inform him,
I struggle with the combined weight of the travelling bag, rack, and remaining jackets, heave them upstairs and drop in bathroom doorway.

I take the letters from the box, separate the one that is actually addressed to me in person, and open the door to him.
He hands me the certificate which had lain on the swivel rock and often as not ,tilt chair.
He sits and asks how I am, and how holiday went, who helped me to tidy the garden, how have I been keeping, and several more questions.
I get him to back up, explaining,
I’ve just blown the last of some half decent gear in a stronger than usual joint.
It is to be the only one of the day,
When it chooses to wear off I will no doubt revert to normal and tidy the surroundings up, until then I apologise for the state of the place.
My father is coming down tomorrow, with some more plants,
So I had the choice, tidy up today, just in case the worker calls,
Or make tidy in time for Father’s arranged visit the next day.

Eventually he left assuring me that the state of the place isn’t important.

I realise I’ve just listened to a couple of hours of piano Jazz, cannot remember a note played.

I look at my clothes hiding the craftsmanship of the half captains chair in the corner,
The reasons for the garment being left there seemed perfectly suitable at the time.

I go silent and reflect upon the decision taken earlier not to buy baccy or gear today.

I have taken four photos to illustrate the extent of the problem, but am unsure as to how to get them to appear in the right place in the blog.
So, off to learn.

17 th June.

2007-06-17T19:56:00.000+01:00

17/06/2007 19:54
After an Englishman had moved to Dublin, he needed to do some D.I.Y. in his new home.
He went driving, looking for a suitable store for materials, but was unsuccessful.
He stopped and asked a local man,
“Is there a B+ Q in Dublin?”
The Irishman took the time to consider the question, and replied,
“NO,”
“But there is two D’s in Dundalk.”
Belief is a choice.
It is far easier for people to believe that they are victims, because then it isn’t their fault if their life isn’t what they want it to be.

When you are in “flow” you are passionate about something.
You don’t ask whether or not you are sure of success.
You simply try to get there.
This is both not deluded and often successful.
You size up a potential goal and see it as merely possible.
At that point you explore to see if you can get there. If someone asks whether you will succeed you simply answer,
“We’re going to find out.
And have a good time doing so.”

Recommend Query format.
First paragraph is a sentence about why this agent is a good pick for you
if applicable, word count, hook, title and genre. The next paragraph should be your blurb.
Imagine what would go on the back cover of the novel in paperback form.
This should be intriguing and jazzy, summing up the conflict in your story. It should also be less than 200 words.The next paragraph should be about you and your writing credentials.
If you don't have any, keep it lean.
Don't write about your four kids and your stuffed marmoset collection. The final paragraph should close and thank the agent for his time.
Use his or her name again, at this point, and spell it correctly. That's it.
Using that formula and writing well, should guarantee you'll get some requests for partials.

The above is some pointers I picked up from an Agent’s site I was reading till the early hours of the morning.
I had stopped up yesterday till 1.30 a.m. took Zyprexa and awoke this morning at 10.20,
Quick piss and back to bed till woken up by alarm call from Father.

Cuppa, rollie, shave and went to parents for Sunday lunch, followed by 40 minutes of bliss, relaxing in a hot bath.

Returning home, I resisted the temptation to go to the club,
Got myself a can from the fridge and scored a £10.00 worth of gear to see me through the remainder of the day.

I had spent quite a long time last night, reading the Agent’s site, the comments and glancing through many of her archived subjects.

I recently added a tracker to my Blog.
Needless to say, it has proven to me what I already expected.
Very few people are stumbling across the site and even less taking the time to read any of it.

Did I ever expect anything else?
In the beginning perhaps no,
But as the project progressed I began to dismiss the idea of dismantling it, later, possibly trying to use the material to put together a book,

I then tried to inject my personality into the piece and provide a possible reward to anyone who has actually tried to read it in full.
I began to think of the possibility of a reader being present in the equation.
So I concentrated on providing a daily post,
Improving my typing skills, practising copy writing, whilst waiting for a style of writing to manifest itself.
One I could feel easy with, lacking of most of the restraints of accepted book genres.

The pages describe my daily life,
sometimes in depth and at other times, merely in passing.
My apparent failure to give up Alcohol, Cigarettes, and Cannabis is fully logged.
Each failure marked by the description of the waking hours,
(As distinct from daylight hours.)
My attempts to live frugally save money for times when mobility and frame of mind are in better favour.
My writing is such that it seeks not to offend or give instruction to anyone.
An often erratic tenuous thread leads the reader on a seemingly haphazard, ill planned safari of my mind.
It is very much Billy Connelly ish.
It is a guy thinking while typing, nothing more, nothing less.

My thoughts, my views, my fears both real and imagined.
My mental and physical breakdown is chronicled as being the starting point to my life changing decision to adopt a policy of,
“Less is more.”
As are the events leading up to and surrounding the episode,

(As manic-depressive, Cannabis fuelled psychotic incidents are now called.)

There are references to religion in this work, several in fact, all treated with respect.
Although my experiences of frightening Jehovah’s Witnesses away by answering the door with a six-foot Python around my neck, may give others, ideas.

I do not advocate the above, neither do I preach about the use of Cannabis as a no brainer alternative to the socially accepted Alcohol.
A lot of the work however is written while I’m stoned.

Again I wouldn’t suggest the reader has to be in a similar condition to read it.
But I would suggest it needs an accompaniment of sounds and for that,
777 Radio will provide, the meditation, Lounge, Chill out vibes.
I apologise,
But I do have commitments to some advertising contracts.

I enjoy a good belch after a mouthful of lager and decided its time for number two to come out of the hanger.
I skin I spark.2
See apparently if your site isn’t all singing and dancing with extra features is doesn’t climb high in the ranking and thus receives few visits.
You are then told to go out and find similar sites, dropping your site address into any convenient comment box and create links.
Take articles from Newspapers and expand, cut and paste articles and links, provide feeds, and exhibit photos and video.

I have in fact had a very open letter which told me my site was shite and that I should stick my Hindu beliefs up my fucking arse.
I repeat I mention religion several times,
And each is mentioned by its merit, its apparent aptness for the time and place.
I am by no means religious and hold no more respect for the Lord’s day than any other.
I believe religion touches us in its own particular way, be that listening to a Muslim sing out his prayers, read the sayings of the Hindu masters or listening to an unknown tongue singing gloriously whilst living rough next to a church.
I had a totally mind blowing, telepathic meeting of minds with the,
Pope no less.
And that was in the middle of a particularly heavy long session.
My head hurting from the effort of containing this globe of extremely bright light which had taken up residency for the duration of the exchange.
He spoke, I listened!

Couldn’t understand a fucking word of it,
I’m thinking, fucking great, people can’t get within of a mile of this guy,
And here he is, speaking to me in fucking Latin.
Despite not understanding the voice, (I saw no face.)
I could feel the weight of the words and feel the sincerity of it all.
It ended abruptly and I sat blinking, trying to erase the negative image of the light which now showed on the walls as I stared,
Mouth open, wide open, eyes large and round in disbelief.
I sat, staring at the wall,
“I’ve just had n audience with the Pope!”,
Those words went round and round in my head.

“Fucking hell, that was neat”,
I thought to myself and reached for the skins and dope.
As I raised the bag of grass to my nose to take an appreciation of its odour,
As one would do with any fine whisky no doubt.
It was then a smile crossed my lips, grew into a wide grin,
I looked at the packet of grass,
And thought, “yes, ya bitch”,
Fucking good name, “White widow”.

So kids in you want to steer clear of any such side effects,
And keep clear of annoying interruptions like an audience with the pope,
Unannounced.
Steer clear of the white widow when she is at the height of her power.
Or at least treat her with respect.

Honestly that gear,
Good grade, unadulterated,
Ideally farmed using organic principles and guaranteed to have been lovingly cared for during its short growing life,
Not locked in a shed with a few Vietnamese.
Like his style,
Is it that easy to pick up the refugees and turn them into slaves by threatening to expose them?

Now thinking to the future and anything I could do to lessen the burden I’ve become on the state.
An opportunity for employment for the disabled if ever I saw one.
Who would be better at travelling up and down narrow aisles between plants?
A guy in a wheelchair.
Never mind the refugees, two in wheel chairs will do the job much better.

Dream job eh,
Tending to the needs of the leaf.
You get a shock when you see a combine harvester waiting to cut the crop!
Now I’m not a political animal but I sense the farmers are getting a bit pissed of with all this EU farming policies, and cutting and changing parameters for grants etc.
Get it under hemp, tell its for making Charlie band.

Anyone not know what Charley band is, or heard of Charlie Tanner?
Just asking.

Yes the old white widow has a bit of a punch.
Two or three times it literally floored me, I was standing, then I collapsed like a tower block.
Definitely best appreciated on its own with an iced fruit drink,
Not to be taken before, during of after consuming alcohol.

I tell you, being floored, lying there sweating profusely, heart beating ten to the dozen thinking is this going to a heart attack job again.
You try to move but no part of your body is co-operating in the least.
Your head slides into the most comfortable position it can.
And you wait.

The heart is pumping and you see the red veins bulge and contract before your eyes on the inside of your eyeballs.
The vein in your neck, behind the ear is absolutely pounding your pulse out on a painful drum.
You are hot, the sweat runs into your eyes,
You are cold and shivers run up and down your spine,
These shivers become electric shocks and you wince as some are more pronounced than others.
Fuck me!
You think to yourself,
Your power of speech reduced to uttering pathetic ah! sounds.

You then of course take control.
Listen to the drum of the pulse and concentrate upon slowing it down, taking deep breaths whilst doing so.
And wait.
And while you wait your mind occupies itself with supplying audio and video playback of your meeting with the spine specialist.
According to him I should have been paralysed years ago.

His words come back to you,
His warning to take things easy or lose years off the first alternative guesstimate.
Fuck all I can do, it will happen, I’m sorry.
Those words take command.
I wait,
As I have done so many times before.

I make light of the situation by asking my friend to turn the TV over,
If was destined to lie here, I may as well watch something decent.
She replied by saying,
You do it you’re nearer.
I laugh at the ludicrously of the request.
I have no feeling in my body; only the head is able to move.

“You will be paralysed either from the waist or from the neck,”
That’s what he told me and that’s what I was remembering while laid there.
Waiting.

I settled and watched the TV and thought is this it?
Destined to be wheeled out every morning to sit and watch TV.
I thought of the pact I’d made with a couple of people(insurance),
regarding my chosen way of suicide if the worst came to the worst.
Would they really go through with it and use an empty syringe on me?

Have I cleaned the syringes?
I asked myself and remembered there were some new piercing needles and plenty of large syringes, normally used to fill the ink cartridges.
I tried to speak but my head was too heavy, I couldn’t form my words.
I laughed inside at my own predicament.

Just glad it didn’t happen outside.

See folks if you are going to use decent drugs, respect their power, and use them in a suitable ambient environment ,
Then its wise to stay at home.

I start to think of the scenarios arising from the consequence of this having happened outside,
Near, traffic, over a table of drinks, perhaps.

Eventually feeling returns and my neck relaxes, sensation surges to all parts, I flex different muscle groups, move limbs and make sure everything is working.
Then I realise my legs are still dead.
I wait,

Of course my mind has progressed to the life in a wheelchair train of thought.
I try to make light by thinking of turbo charged wheel chairs, air horns, and Bluetooth C.B. system to shout at the masses to get out of the fucking way.
Cripple coming through!

At least now I can move the upper body and I adopt a more comfortable position while being tormented by the over active mind trying to cope with the situation.
Its not knowing that fucks you up!
Is it another heart attack?
Is it the big paralysis?
Or is it the skunk?

I have to believe it is the skunk.
Simply have to.

The alternative frightened me so much.
I would lay there until someone,
Came, picked me off the floor and moved me wherever they fucking wished.

To become a head on a pillow in a bed which would become such a huge part of your life.
Even more than it occupies now and that is a lot.

Try not to do anything or make a move to antagonise it.
What exactly does that entail?
Taking it easy and looking out for it all the time.
He explained.

The quack.
Keep up!

Eventually the legs begin to tingle and slowly all is well again, I rise, take a few minutes to recover and enjoy the feeling of sheer relief which floods through every vein in my body making my skin tingle with the sensation.

The only other two people who were selected to share some with me.
(I am a tight arse old Hector when it comes to giving good gear away!)
Both enjoyed it very much and agreed the pollen may have something to do with it.
And both elected to take cabs home.
Usually wisest option after visiting me.

One was my computer Guru, a college student studying complicated Physics,
I have mentioned him before; he guided me through all the different changes we made to the computer and the set up.
He installed whatever I wanted into a later purpose built machine.
He enjoyed, a smoke, a listen to the sounds, occasional glass of whisky or rarer a drink of home made brown ale/barley wine.

I would be sat there equally stoned or pissed, notebook in hand asking him to explain the various items of interest which had caused me confusion.
He told me what things did and often as not what was stopping me from making it do this!
That was the way I progressed, went in every direction possible, exploring all avenues.
W e would be there on hands and knees,
No, not stoned,
We would have cables round necks and in between teeth as we made even more changes to the yards and fucking yards of cables and wires,
All power being supplied from two double wall sockets.
One being occupied by fridge/beer cooler and freezer.

Here’s a fucking great tip for you.
You’re sat in you office and the old neck is giving some gip.
Put one of those huge plastic, fucking plastic again!
Lemonade bottles in the ?
Can’t remember if fridge or freezer works best.
Chill it down,
Can’t remember if full or part empty,
Either way if you fancy a cold drink leave something in,
Put it behind your neck and press backwards in your leather office chair and chill for a while.
Or until it gets too cold.
So must have been freezer, I tried it in!

This guy was as cute and likeable as a box of monkeys.
He knew how to get into almost anything and he demonstrated his methods with skill.
I couldn’t pay his hourly rate,
Fuck me, see how much they charge?
But in return for booze and dope we would have sessions beginning around 7 and lasting till the early hours of the morning.

It was like going on holiday with someone,
Who has been there before.
No honestly, stick with me.

He could direct me to where I wanted to go and stop me from taking detours because he had been down that route and knew what to expect.
Thus, I covered less sites and learnt a hell of a lot in a short time.

At about the time I was heavily studying security with regards to computer use.
He informed that he had taken some of my enquiries to his head of department for advice.
I was apparently talking about things he had no knowledge of and therefore wasn’t able to advise me further.
He actually thought I was “Losing it” for a while,
Until his head had told him my ideas were based on sound judgment.

He was interested in Archaeology and would try and teach me a little each time,
Dropping subtle hints like “seeing as you have the car wouldn’t mind a lift to the moors sometime. Show you examples of what I’m talking about.

Knowing the chances of getting me away from the computer were next to nil and falling.

The advice given last night was visit similar sites.
I tried and did, and my eyes were open to the obvious dissimilarities.

Yes, the old white widow can be a bitch at times.
Other times she will hover over you radiating calm and contentment, infusing a sense of well being into your aching body.

Apparently the agents ask for a few pages to have an initial look.
Fuck! Which pages would you choose?
I’ve got no idea what’s even on each page.

If the pages pass scrutiny then a larger example is asked for and if accepted they become your agent and oversee all publishing deals and generally look after your interests by scrutinising every section of each contract.
They come to agreement with the acceptance and publishing fees, and negotiate important time related clauses.
They also act against piracy, which sadly exists.
They also self regulate; scammers are actively sought out and indeed punished.

They are simple human beings, like you or me who have an eye for a good thing,
They understand what is wanted and what has missed the boat or indeed is ahead of its chosen time to be popular with the masses.
No doubt they put the same amount of energy into your prepublish publicity and guide you through the necessary public appearances etc.
For that I’m sure would be enough for most grateful would be authors.

But no they go further and foster a personal interest in your future.
Dropping your name into the right ears when present at one of the many Literary based occasions she attends.
Lunches, nice bottle of wine and discuss your future prospects with representatives.
Possible assist in the extremely long transition period of getting written word onto the big screen.
In return, all she asks is that you put some thought into the letter when making a query; demonstrate to her your skill, If skill you think you have but are too frightened to ask.

She will then either answer Yes or No.
Who knows?
One day it could be your name slipping out of her lips as she tells of someone she once rejected, may be of use, to her dining companion and his firm.
I read the comments from many different would be authors mixed in with the ones who have made it to print and they were lapping up every word of this woman’s blog.
I pause to try and find it; will not be easy!

Kristin’s blog,
At Nelson literary institute.

All in all a useful ally out there in the world of rip off merchants.
I would describe my work as being similar in content to what you have just read.

Do you seem to recall growing up and thinking I’d like to do that.
But only rarely think, it must be great to get paid for doing that!

That I presume is the reward.
Must be great when someone comes along and tells you that with a little work they can cut you a deal.
I remember buying a very slim copy of a fake hide bound book, called
The Glory Of Stalingrad and other poems.
Was a beautifully crafted little book, very few pages, eighth of an inch thick?
I remember thinking I bet that author was proud when they saw that for the first time.
I got it because I liked the parchment outer.
I later came to like some of the contents, but only after many repeat readings.

Visit forums and drop links, save comments,
Do any one of a thousand different things to get your site noticed.

Or stagnate into putrification and get absorbed by the inner being of the web.
Sounds nasty!

Well the old lord’s day has passed nicely without too much fuss.
I rise, slowly approach the toilet, carefull not to startle it with any sudden appearances.

Have an upright stoners’ piss, think about adult diapers as I flick it dry and wipe the drops from my hands onto the front of the jeans.
Walk out, scratch my arse, and enter the kitchen, picking up a can of lager I opted for the excess baggage allowed rule of play, and duly left the plastic, ring on the work surface; not wanting to add to the pile of rubbish which has taken up residence on the right hand side of the recliner.

I really can be a right slob of an Old Hector when circumstances allow.
Who would live like this never mind choose to work among it?
I presume most writer’s must work in similar circumstances, because how else could you?
Produce anything.

I still cannot put myself into the mind of say, a fantasy writer,
If he enjoys writing and has a mind capable of coming up with such obscure plots
Of imagination then he must have a hell of a time.
No. shit I couldn’t have thoughts for a fantasy book going round my head all day till silenced by being written down.
Drive yourself crackers.
Apparently vampire related projects are popular,
Getting a bit, old hat but still popular.

564 pages and counting.

I spent 16 hours on the computer yesterday, writing and taking the opportunity to read as many blogs as possible.
I’ve already mentioned the one which held my attention for such a long time,
Whilst providing a lot of information,
But I chose to read many of the titles which took my fancy as they passed, ticker tape style before me.

Did a shit load of reading, one site was by a law enforcement officer who tracked criminals down and visited them in prison after sentencing.
He had such a variety of people he met in everyday service that he said he was spoilt for material.
Very easy to read.
I followed up the sites for Blogger awards and looked at some of the winners.

There’s a distinct chill in the air and the night draws in as I decide enough.

16 th june.

2007-06-16T12:29:00.001+01:00

16/06/2007
07:02
Up early, obviously, having had a decent sleep, only to find out it is early hours of the morning.
A couple of years ago I would have been settled next to some water by now fishing or busy in the allotment.
Possibly even out to sea, fishing in one of the few remaining cobles.

I looked out of the window and there was a promising amount of sunlight, enough to promise a better day than of late.
But within half an hour the mist had returned and was creeping steadily closer from the fields to the buildings of the close.

With first cuppa in hand I’d sat, trying to decided what kind of day, today may turn out to be.

I’d looked around the flat and come to the conclusion something would have to be done; I’ve been home a week now and still haven’t unpacked.
Problem being it was simply too early to wake my downstairs neighbour by walking around on the noisy floorboards.
How considerate I’m becoming in my old age!

I finish my first rollie and again look at the clock, I’ve been awake nearly half an hour.

The few positive thoughts, like I’ll be able to see the daisies in flower,
If the sun stays out; I may venture outside, ride in car, and go shopping for bread.
They all disappeared as I caught my first glimpse of the mist approaching.
Memories of the last week spent all but one day in the gloom of a grey, pervading, shroud.

I go for a piss, top up my tea and decided that whatever else happens, I must have a bath and shave today.
My juvenile beard is irritating me and I’m not aware but feel I must have my own personal scent following me.

So decided, today is bath day and once more my visage will see the light of day.
I look forward to it.
Even though, as I’ve mentioned once or twice before the experience is nothing like getting stretched out in my parent’s full-length version.

I get in my mini bath, space saving original design, guaranteed to fit any available space in an outdated, ridiculously small bathroom.
My arse gets wet.
Everywhere else struggles to get any real contact with the water.
So there I sit like a solitary strawberry in the centre of a huge bowl of blamange.

I think of getting my back wet, even feeling some of the heat from the water around my neck.
I then, brush my teeth while looking around the windowsill in front of me.
Has anything been shifted? Or, indeed added?

No,
I’m free to ever so slowly slip backwards while sliding my right leg further and further up the wall facing me.
The struggle to position the leg and foot in just the right position to ensure maximum immersion is immense.
I therefore generally take my time to appreciate this newly acquired position.
I also take my time in hesitation because the return to an upright position is several times more arduous.

Of course, often as not the elevated leg is the first to call time on any chance of a neck warming relaxation period.
You have taken it out from almost beneath an expanse of warm, nay hot water,
And stuck it out in the cold.

Once your leg begins to send alarm bells and draw attention to the ambient temperature of the room.
The rest of the body reacts similarly.
And because you only actually have your arse warm, that is a lot of body.

I have that to look forward to.

One single thing that would transform my way of life and lift my existence to a higher level would be the installation of a shower.

I have never been without one, have installed a shower in every property I’ve had,
Often never seeking permission, not wanting to go through the red tape associated with an application.

Out of bed then stood with bullets of hot water bombarding the lower back, neck and shoulders.
To feel refreshed and rejuvenated.
To feel the pain ease as surely as having taken a powerful medicine.

A bit of blow and a hot shower,
Best combination of painkillers known to man.

To be stoned, eyes closed, water raining down on your overly receptive body,
Let thoughts of pain fade as the magic of the water is executed.

I was a little disappointed that the bathroom remained the only room not connected with a sound system.
I therefore had to use the computer in the room next door to supply the sounds.
Stoned, shower, sounds, so simple.
That was rather clever.

I will just have to get used to the idea that,
As long as I have an hole in my arse, I will never fit in that bath.
Not that I’m advocating removal of said orifice to try.

I appear to have given the trike too much head and veered slightly away, again.

I’m sat, an hour into first stone,
Yes, up half an hour and into first joint!
Why such an early start? You may ask.

Whilst finishing my second rollie I had a period of “ uncontrol”,
I found myself opening the spelling and grammar check options,
And actively seeking further assistance.
I read the options already ticked and decided there was little extra I needed.
I then came across a section bereft of selections save one Colloquium.
I had ticked a couple more which I may add but truthfully do not understand.
And have immediately forgotten.

Now you may begin to understand my problem when locked up working on the system,
My short term memory is well and truly fucked up sometimes and generally all the time when stoned.

I honestly can often not remember the last sentence immediately after it has been scripted.

So therefore I was forced to carry out any changes, slowly, methodically, often talking to myself, describing what I’m doing.
I then have to quickly write down what I’ve said, describing what I’d just done,
So I had something to refer to.
I did try Dictaphone to record actions but preferred the freedom of paper to jump from section to section.
But that is how and when I began to scribble, develop a system of short hand and eventually taught myself to type for pleasure and exercise.

So first joint down, last joint waiting in the wings,
No intention of buying further stock.

Who am I to keep it waiting? Who indeed.

I skin,
I spark.

The making and sparking of the last joint is always an apparent solemn moment for me.
I become reflective.
I’m sat here relaxed, listening to sounds, stoned, thinking,
Surely life has more to offer than a week in Skegness!

Vague memories of things said about Bracing Skegness, flicker through my head and I wish to put the record straight.

I went to Skegness because,
I have never yet met anyone I knew there.
Never had any hassle finding somewhere to park.
Never got mugged, abused or felt threatened at any time.
Was always in close proximity, to someone worse off than me.
What?
Never got short-changed.
Never got hassled for money, the only apparent beggar was too drunk to speak.

(My speakers have suddenly gone quiet, vague sounds in the background.
Which normally signifies a return to normal volume; so sudden it will shock me.)

I remember and test the volume control.
It is working, the speakers still haven’t returned.
I change the genre station but still there is this horribly infuriating rasping sound coming from the boxes.
Notice almost immediate disrespect for equipment when it fails to operate correctly.

I am forced to investigate, cannot abide imperfect sounds,
For imperfect read not working at their best.

As I leave the chair, this is one small step for man is running through my head.

I waggle a known loose connection.
Waggle?
Technical term used to describe the apparent random motion of the action.
No response,
I revert to common sense and switch the power off, wait ten seconds and,
Hey presto, problem solved, sounds restored, return to chair.

Isn’t life fucking exciting when you live it to the max?

I realise the speaker incident had caused me to leave the joint in the ashtray and this is one of those rare occasions of
Smokus completus being interruptus

I convince checker the above are kosher and continue.

Bomb the Bass-bug Powder dust!(dub)
Found on old favourite, 777 radio in lounge.
Feeling lucky punk?
Look it up and listen.

Irritating little song, in a nice way, has a piece like a fucking woodpecker trying to gain entry into your head.
Some interesting sounds mixed.

Decide sounds were too lively so switched to chill.
Much more befitting present state of mind.
I spark.

I often wondered how proper writers do it.
How can they decide upon a time to be able to write?
Surely you have to be able to write.

I couldn’t hold a thought for more than a few minutes let alone plan a writing session for a certain time.
Meaning I’d be unable to carry any thoughts on content through to the session.
I presume the proper writers spend a lot of time doing other things while composing their future issue in their head.
Mine would be full of bits!

I once tried thinking about my writing beforehand.
I would sit in a pub and hear something and try desperately to link it something which I’m bound to do later,
Like get a beer from the fridge.
Before it disappears.

It may be something to do with having a bi-polar disorder or it could just be another fault in the long list of faulty body functions.
My memory is not working in ways is possibly should yet excelling in other areas.

I find it difficult to explain and have passed it off in the past as describing it as if it” is more selective”.
I tend to remember things for all the wrong reasons; such is the diversity of my adopted tagging system.

I struggled with my memory, as I did with my sanity when committed.
I fought long and hard with my memory, fearing I was going through a complete deletion of my mind.
My memory going, my sense of reason, self esteem low, at the end of one’s rope.
You struggle with your memory because there’s fuck all else making sense at the time of being committed!

I took the time to eventually allow myself to relax and regain slowly what I held important over everything else.
My intelligence.

For sure what good would any amount of study do if you have the memory span of a goldfish?
Would I simply forget everything I’d done over the last four years?
Don’t forget I’d been through almost total isolated continuous computer use, majority of which being research into a diverse range of study.

At first I tried to gauge how much damage had been done to my memory by trying to remember my computer use, testing myself with make believe scenarios involving rectifying system fault or similar.
I had 24 hours of freedom,
If I wanted to sit and listen to radio all day and night,
It could be allowed with moderation.

Quite a few of the inmates had woken up one night to the sounds of Dylan drifting through the dorm in the wee small hours.
They all said they enjoyed it.
I did tend to turn up the volume on personal favourites.
Wound the bastard up next door by leaving it on playing classical music all day while I was out,
Really pissed him off!

I later followed up with two days of heavy metal and finally a mix of classic tracks from different decades.
The daily live or whatever classical concert was the best,
Me laid on bed, nicely stoned, digital radio, concert broadcast rather loud,
Door open.
Him stood in the doorway, glaring, staring, almost, but not quite managing to pull it off,
Menacingly.

Knowing full well,
I’d threatened to rip his fucking head off if he stepped into my room,
Be that when vacant or occupied without consent.

His chosen form of entertainment was to watch a miniature DVD player at full blast.
He would miss many a meal to continue his viewing, sometimes rushing down to the trough to grab a sandwich at meal times, then returning to room.
He did come down sometimes, but most of the day and following night would be spent in the cell.

I did try, I say this now before explaining.
By the way I do not intend to take the piss out of this patient merely trying to convey to the reader the environment in which I’d found myself, by no conceivable choice of my own.

I had been lain in bed remembering bits and pieces of what I’d been trying to do.
I was trying to make sense of all my actions and trying to find reason.
I soon realised that there was one helluva lot of information to sort out just to figure out what I’d been doing and where the hell, I’d been and was planning of going in the future.
I had done too much of everything, as usual.
I do tend to drink too deep of the nectar pot.

I leave that in because I like the ambiguity,
I decided, after tasting the delights of the first consignment of an arranged regular daily supply, to have a defrag.
And I cheerily announced to all who would listen that I was going to
“Defrag my mind.”
I never thought or took the time to consider this a dangerous thing to announce in a mental hospital because no one understood the term.

“I’m going to defrag my mind and sort out what’s worth keeping”,
I explained to my trick cyclist when she commented on my apparent cheerful outlook.

I knew what had to be done, just wondering if the surroundings really are conducive to allowing a defrag.

I am surrounded by people certified no less to be of dubious character,
None apparently convicted of a crime,
Apparently some expecting court appearances when released.

I wish I’d stuck to finishing the apology to Skegness.
I went to bracing Skegness, to slob out, fish; enjoy a pint or two in friendly surroundings,
Sleep in an adequate bed and be waited on hand an foot with enough food to keep me out of a fish shop.
I got everything I wanted from the week’s holiday came away without buying an oversized carrier bag and have sufficient tackle once again to choose to pursue the sport.

I was in need of somewhere to relax, private if need be or simply toker friendly.
By now I’d slipped into the routine of meds, food, more food, yet more food, more meds, and bed.
I’d been well behaved for several days, being occupied with snooping round rooms looking for possible places of sanctuary.
I was released into the more relaxed, laid back atmosphere of occupational therapy.
And unlike the cuckoos nest idea springing to mind, the occupants are not all running round like headless chickens or trying to harm each other.
Seems the staff are well aware of the ones who may be dangerous or are lacking the basic social skill of interactivity.
They paint, do creative writing, many other projects which I didn’t take part in.
There is a huge pile of games, seldom used, a pool table is in almost constant use; somewhat neglected are the two computers and printers which shared the room with the toy I claimed as my own.
A keyboard, a Casio at that.
Sorry Casio it wasn’t half as good as the Yamaha 420.
I still grieve for that keyboard,
Yet know I will never again be able to use it to create such beautiful sounds as I did in the music room of the big house.
But it was there and there were music books.
I had a two-hour session each morning and afternoon, save Sunday.
I would have a joint in the garden before each session and would be pleasantly chilled after having a second one half way through each.
A pattern was beginning to merge and as my daily routine had little chance of being drastically altered I was free to organise my day.
I missed a couple of meals and was offered sandwiches when I eventually appeared.
That was the missing link.
I was now free from the restrictions of the accepted meal times.

I now needed to experiment in each of the bathrooms, testing fire alarms with both rollie and joint.
Acoustics, another point to be considered.
I had taken to singing aloud, outrageous ditties and genuine songs alike were to be heard coming from the bathroom,
I found one bathroom which had sufficient ventilation to clear smoke and being fully tiled was excellent acoustics wise.

The staff check the bathrooms every hour, I can of course vouch for that because I was entombed in the room of my choice for hours on end.
Emptying and refilling the bath from the often piping hot supply.

I forget to mention these bathrooms were very special to me because they contained the love of my life,
A longer than ever before experienced metal bath.
If it had been a shitty plastic bath then the whole recovery may well never have had chance to blossom.

I spent hours singing, composing short verses to be sung at the top of my voice, other times sounds from the radio were used to create the atmosphere.
A chance to once again think of everything I’d done so far, but this time take in many more sections of my life.
I analysed as many aspects of my life which had hitherto been important.

I remembered the less is more practise I’d been trying to follow during construction of system.

My plan of action had been to allocate a week to getting as wrecked as possible, refraining from contact and allowing the mid to do whatever it wanted.
Because I realised as in the defrag of a drive you have very little control save setting the operation into motion.
You take for granted that as depicted by the improvement in the appearance of the different coloured columns, the machine is doing everything correctly to provide maximum efficiency.
I did not want to choose what to remember and what to forget, I knew I would be unable.
I was prepared to let my mind take a rest and do the job for me in return.

When your brain is in a state of activity to be almost electric, it begins to feed on itself and any lowering of activity level is frowned upon.
But after too long in this condition it cries out for no more than rest.
Any break from making decision after decision and trying to find room to store even more intellectual flotsam.

I had however reached a state of mind in which I had begun to consider so many different aspects of my life in terms of worth and replaceability.

I realised I’d amassed literally tonnes of possessions and was trying to do things I’d wanted to do years but been unable to because of financial restrictions.
I was surrounded with shit, everywhere in the gardens, in my social life and my house was as cluttered with crap as the inside of my head.

Literally that is how I saw my problem as being,
A lifestyle full of crap and a head full of same.

The head problem would be solved if the importance of the subject is lowered to negligible.
It is no longer important to me, as it used to be and therefore I have no need to worry about remembering.
If you wipe out all importance of your previous existence by forcing yourself to forget then your present and future life can continue uninterrupted by concern.

True my position was somewhat unique, I’d escaped from the financial restrictions imposed by living in a huge house, broke away from a fading relationship, become enlightened to rumours apparently believed by so called friends thus prompting me to scrutinise my circle of acquaintances.
I decided there and then to leave my past behind, get rid of all, and I mean all baggage and let the future lead me.

It was shortly after that I was targeted, literally to receive my medication a la arse.
In fact they had interrupted on of these described session to administer it, taking the opportunity to seize my lump of cannabis in the process.

They never came close to ever; getting it again, mark my words.

I had made the decision just in time because these injections are bastards.
Turn you into a zombie, hardly able to shuffle your feet to move.
Unable to move, unable to think properly, apologetic to all you bump into.
Complete with a fixed expression on face.

Perfect, I struggled but managed to roll a joint up and spent a pleasant few hours staggering around out of my tree,
Any behaviour tolerated because I’d been a bad boy and refused my meds.
The combination of the two effects was interesting to say the least.

This allowing your mind to defrag itself is not without some degree of anxiety.
I would lay and try to remember things which I know I shouldn’t forget and struggled, it was if the mind was struggling to retrieve memories whilst busy dumping so many of them.

When committed you are known as on a section, each section can have its number changed and mean something completely different if and when required to confuse the patient during explanation of his incarceration.
You are in for a certain amount of time and there is absolutely fuck all you can do about it.
Hell some have been in for years and years, 20 yrs, one guy.

I panicked so much about my release, especially after being given drugs which were taking control from me without breaking into a sweat.
I enlisted the help of a solicitor and instructed him to sue the arse of my bitch of a trick cyclist for ruining 50 years of my life.
I remember being very angry at the time and making threats to several people and warning others to stay out of my way.
You sense you are recovering when you stop ripping the doors off the hinges, throwing the bed around the room, trying to demolish everything insight and lash out at everyone within range physically and verbally,
Until you find yourself under an assortment of staff bodies of each sex and you are restrained and medicated, given a long sleep.

I asked why the long sleep.
To give time for a confused mind to settle.
Excellent I thought, that was tantamount to sanctioning my personal plans to ger wrecked, chill out, and forget everything.

What method of treatment works and which combination of drugs legal or otherwise was responsible is irrelevant your time is up and you are released.

I come out try to implement my plan some time later,
By throwing out what I considered clutter and rejecting anything which bore memories.
And was duly sectioned for a second time.
Looking back it was fucking hilarious, or would have been if it had been candid camera.
No it was real and I was indeed locked up again.

Having smoked last joint and more recently, last of baccy, I feel somewhat deflated, and it not even 11 o’clock.
The sky is the same dull grey and I am once again taking my recycling duties seriously and prepare to re-roll the ashtray’s contents.

Such excitement you life can have if only you plan.

Do you know you are more likely to be struck by lightning on the doorstep of the shop where you buy your lottery ticket than winning it?
Bit of a twat if happen to be holding winner.

Just had a thought,
What if only unemployed stoned people with mental illnesses of varying degrees read this?
I will have a good-sized readership.

No I implore you,
When next deciding where to go for a couple of hours,
A trip out a jollie.

You will have no trouble whatsoever getting in, a friendly smile or wave is sufficient to get you in and onto the wards.
Please take the time to study each and every work of art you pass along the corridors.
All nicely framed, signed and donorship often documented.

You then enter the innards of the corridor system and plastic pot plants are used to line your path.
And when I say pot, I mean pot; there was six foot, proud to be included in anyone’s growing room, plastic examples of cannabis Sativa.
I had snapped a leaf off when first admitted and kept it in my room to remind me, least I forgot too much!

No seriously folks have a walk along and see how the other half live.
Pretend to be a visitor and stand in the wards area with the most chairs, generally accepted as meeting area.
Do not worry about not having an actual patient to talk to because quite a few choose not to spend any time with their visitors when they arrive, preferring to make busy and watch TV or sit in a glass smoke room staring out like some frightened animal.
Indeed some were frightened.

If however you were given the guided tour you would be shown the full pottery class, the art students, the kitchen being used, the pool table played, people strolling in the garden and all accompanied by a bipolar manic depressive stoned playing a Casio.

Take the time to look at the poetry and paintings on the wall, there isn’t a lot, most patients losing any wish to acknowledge worth once task completed.
Pieces of pottery kept in boxes, all examples of someone’s success in getting control over at least one aspect of their day.
Yet never wanting to be reminded by taking object home.

You never, ever know what is going to happen next in a mental hospital.
O.k. you have meal and med times, but other than that there is an air of uncertainty which hovers through the building.
Changing, with every move of the chess game.
A new player is introduced into someone else’s space and you have a mini riot.

The uncertainty in omnipresent yet serves to put an edge on the often boring tedious days spent trying to figure out why the fuck you were in there and who had been instrumental in putting you there?

I break for a piss and much needed exercise.

Six steps and a backward stagger to the door further seven steps and sat having a stoner’s piss.
Retrace my steps and back in chair.
Probably wouldn’t qualify for a Duke of Edinburgh’s Award but movement none the less.

Hell, you ask, how do you cope with so much excitement in your life?
Well, I guess I get a lot of help from my medication.
And having extremely low expectations.

I scratch my head, showering long strands onto the keyboard, distracting!

I now sit apparently well enough for release, knowing full well I will never allow myself to get so engrossed in anything ever again.
My psychotic episode was said to be “fuelled” by excessive cannabis consumption.
Hell you smoke weed and get stoned, get too stoned go to sleep.
Go to sleep, cannot continue smoking so built in safety device.

When you overload the mind with possibilities you effectively stop the whole body from relaxing and gradually become mentally and physically exhausted.
Completely depleted.

The “hospital”, provides the only safe environment in which you can be monitored, fed, medicated and hopefully given a chance to pick your own spot, be that sat in the same chair listening to the same radio station for years, of chilling in the bathroom or enclosing yourself in the bubble of experience which is playing an instrument.

I ask a person to recite the first seven letters of the alphabet, then teach then to play a piece of music they recognise from “proper” music in minutes.
I was lucky, lucky I was a keyboard player and luckier so have had music books available, being a sight-reader.
The staff had no need to ask how I was; they just listened to how I was playing.
I would never have made such a speedy recovery if not been granted the four hours per day to play free from interruption.

Noon approaches and I’ve taken about fifty steps since awakening.
None towards doing something constructive.

Takes some getting rid of that, often annoying thought.
You can never feel completely relaxed or concentrate fully upon any task to hand be it study or recreation if you are feeling guilty about not doing something,
More constructive.
With the time.

Some patients never get better, they just remain locked in the daily struggle to fill in the hours the best way they know how.
Inevitable institutionalisation follows, but the inmates are still watched over by staff looking for signs of any deviancy away from the now accepted norm.

I feel even sorrier for the ones left behind because of the magnitude of the chance which was given to me to alter my life in so many ways yet remain true to those I’ve grown to respect.
Namely my parents and little weed.

I still have the willingness of all three to help, when needed.
I have always been a solitary person and the experience of being hospitalised put me in a once in a lifetime position in which I had to rely on my own resources to recover from a life threatening situation.
There were people able and with power to take control of my life,
If I allowed them to.

To be completely alone in the world with only your overactive mind for company is pretty hairy at times.

A time best forgotten, you may say,
Hell no, I can see the humour and part sense of it all now.
I can appreciate what has happened to me not just during the stays in hospital but in the time following.
It has become the starting point of many memory searches because a lot of what happened before it has been removed or is at the very least unavailable for general perusal.

To sit for long periods writing about nothing in particular and everything general,
Will, I’m sure be seen as evidence of possible manic behaviour.
By some.

I am simply passing time while waiting for something more constructive, perhaps to come along.

Today’s exercise was of course, same as usual to run with whatever topic takes my fancy.

For god’s sake will some of you yanks do something to save internet radio, contact your local congressmen, kick up a fuss.
Anything to stop these bloody announcements from spoiling an otherwise perfect station!

Having gone smoke free, I feel the batteries running down and think of a nap.
I pour myself the contents of a Fosters lager into my tea mug and drink hungrily.
Drink hungrily?
Yes, right first time.
It sinks down fine.
I knew a guy once, called foster, first name John.
I let slip, on day whilst stoned, I said he looked liked Jesus, and called him Jesus John for a while.
The name stuck and became known as Jesus John, to distinguish him from the clutch of other Johns which used the club.

I fear my powers may be waning and I’m desperately grabbing hooks of ideas, on which to deposit meat.

The day has turned colder, my feet are cold, my back is apathetical and my neck is becoming stiff.
I take another drink.
I force down half of what is left, belch, and smack my lips.
Typical fosters moment, I’m sure you will agree.

I once again think of a nap and remember the powers of the antipsychotic tablets, waiting in the medicine drawer.
I sneeze violently several times and my back protests,
But still they come, uncontrollable, violent mini explosions.

I finish the drink, decide to try a tablet and have a nap.
Adieu.

Memory, can never be, mere fact or history.
Memory, is more complex;
of mute agenda and subtext.
Memory will flow and ebb,according to one's mental web.
Memory, a visceral mix,
of deja vu and subtle tricks.I

n my own remembering, thwarted dreams will all take wing.
Flights of fancy, foolish lies, float in ether's cloudless skies.
In my own imagining, I begin to live.
Memory, is mercury, a silver flash of the quick adept.
Memory, is Emory, it smoothes a path, and slicks the step.
Memory, can gather wool, unless it's used, trained or schooled.
Memory, the survivor's tool.
Memory, is lost to fools.

Some verses from David smith white.