Free 'therapy'.

 Of course it never will be...

As along with everything else  - even in lasterregion, where folk were meant to be down to the actual earth...

The 'therapist' came in and a decade ago i witnessed her lack of 'therapeutic' response...

As we sat next to each other in the cafe and the obvious early sufferer of dog-o-mania ( a proxy for no longer 'working' on "human"ness  so make it only about the dog - a proxy for a cabbage patch doll who can't talk back..)  agressed us...

A good therapist, therapised, knows there is no point agressing back or even standing up for sanity when the body language of ones coffee shop neighbour is angsty and all dogged...  but whatdyerknow of course he got even more aqngsty when she did 'react'...

I did tell her a few weeks later about his very unpleasant comments about her in-street, afterwards...

And even then she hadn't calmed down and learned to not take it personal, like...

And still shoffed her 'model' which was speedy-fix " i can turn around even the hartdest case in six weeks"

Funny that when six years later  having been given real 'empathy' " Di... i have noticed you sleeping in your car .... Presteigne noisy car-park...for some months now....  ehhh ... i can share bathing facilities or hot water making woodburner stuff if you ever need it...  "

The 'best' therapist for many a km, denies she is 'homeless'....

Even some months on. same ole chats at the same nighttime abode...

But extreme 'cases' never make good social history.

I didn't know until i emirgreed on, just how historically insignificant, even if ubiquitous,  the suburbanite Sotherner mode had become 

They all of course brag to kindom come about the 'work' they have done....   without ever pondering neigh expressing the time immemoriam end result desired as even the bleedin Chrets figured a few millennia ago

" meaning what you say..."

Indeed there are plenty of bits 'n bobs about porkies...

But the real zen-o-phobe bit is coming later. 

The 'purpose' of so called 'therapy'. I have my principles....

I put someone else first even if my standards of just-about-clean-enough are cast iron immutable... neigh my 'identity'.

But did need a laugh, even if the once ok Claudia couldn't say it: " ohh chat gpt  [far more appropriate to call a bot a bot with obvious wordplay irony ...] ...it's got people pleasing disease too.... "

 When surely the purpose of 'therapy' is to recover from that - well it isn't 'surely' even the Godsquad nutjob jabbering of Narcotics Anonymous (i know as i had to put up with a decade of one 'client' unpaying who  went through that whole transition even if her so called drug munchin was just for attention...only once a year...)

Anyway this will seem like the whitterings of a mentally ill loon-o-maniac..

Which is the point of therapy

Even if you can't buy it for money to repurpose Mister  Zimmer's line, not a performance for a change rather wise but i cannot find it

The purpose to have just tollerated two decades of stuff even Odysseus would have been curious to read about  - his version a bourgeois Lonely Planet guide..

Mine the reqal version of off the beating track: the Rough Guide

 ( loop back into Islands well yes and no  because in the 80s there was one truly magnificent place of solid ground - a continent of superb writing and tourist research on how to BEAT the system - live extremely well, save time not bothering with the hyped spots...and yes even find a bit of authentic 'local' involvement...

I never joined ANY "institution" to quote the only finest mind ewho spat at themtoo...

Never believed in anything human...

Except the bible: that Rough Guide..

And i tested it...  tried to catch it with its lazy knickers down... over quite a few years.

But they were always simply perfect. And also it was instructive to occasionally nose into a  Lonely Planet on the same places ... just how silly and bourgeois they were.lazy bigging up places which should be bigged very very down,  Pseud... fake... 

I am no cynic...

Anyway the 'purpose' of tollerating years of numbties and kindof learning the only thing that is ever worth learnings...

One summer (still) i shall be having a good one, and then of late some really great things to write up.... for these  legions of mere bots that every day by their thousand click in ...

Twenty times previous 'reader' ship...

But never mind resources stretched to the death of me...

Going to SO much trouble  - hours every morn to warm up phones (one is modem only another radio only)  and laptop - batteries last much longer once warmed on the coffee then stuck down undies, or indeed why they were invented - proof of THE creator that the BBC cannot stop pimping as 'world'view its as if its become the Stanley show...

It knew one day that the armpit was going to be needed to just keep my battery going a tad longer...

ergo

I am quite sure (Claudia actually calls it "she" ...my ohh my but my ponderings on so called artificial eye are far more Decartes worthy if i ever get them up...)

IT ...  will claim the armpit for itself one day as some kind of shamaniac second sight on its predecessor's pathetic effortts to be superintelligent all seeing eye eye eye...

Dying of hunger and cold some poor soul can dial of IT with their last electrons and get the answer to why they're dyin ... alone.....  unloved even by "them"selves...

And smile at last in their last breath...

When it tells a good joke about people pleasing "metoo...suckerrr...." 

Anyway i am in an even better mood due the so splendid Path encounter yesteraft even if she will need a whole twenty years of my wisdom to explain.... why sadly not

nope the ..." i feel the internet will simply implode and stop and thats how my kids will be saved..."

sorry its a bit more work than just manifestin' it...

And requires gags  but when now theyre maybe artificial maybe real...

There's really no hope.

uNless...

did i get to my point speedtyping so fast its daft: to know that all one ever had was some ok poetical ways of wordplaying never mind dozens of good real stories many can be parables of sorts.... several thousand readers it would seem.  BUt the most mentally ill laptop ever (and i taught myself to fix even them a decade ago)  with every tic and illness phase ever - intemittantly...

which takes up all my philosophical juices  - everymorn at dawn theyre always just nicely ready to pour into the internet like a damp cloth

But nope..i cannot even seem slightly sane  cos the bot-readers probably too busy scrathin their bottie as theyve some neurotic attachment to that dark hole rather than the light, so their finngers are too slimey to click on the link above  ....and dont even buy a coffee ....

In other words i display only wonkiness and all the other dodginess ... as a more graceful fully formed thing....someone saw and recorded...takes SO much more battery to display...

my 'therapy' worked - i don't feel bad, about the only thing that matters.... not being able to seem evena  tad sane...

Not sad and sorrowful that twentuy years of splendid self-gonxziong, to spite t6he therapists ... actually works.

Through the VERY WORSE 'trauma' a "human" cabn endure (even the splendid new Find Mister European Yank Murray sticks in his fabulous tome...)

Anyway therapy working..

just sleep really: seven hours it never happens. Eight...a perfect eight as yesternacht....

Her face came fully formed crystalnacht clear as i enjoyed the always enjoyable first five minutes of consciousness both left and right brainy stuff full steam ahead no matter what... as if she's (censored) ... right in front of me.

Now that i do find interesting: how i lose faces in the afternoon and evening... if pondering them at bedtime they are Nolan blurred...

But eight hours all "them" brains  including top and bottom bit...

Whirl away to bring you splendid 3d HD

But today's 'therapists' dont even  dangle THAT carrot from their cash register::  "listen to me you reatrded blob of hysterical jellybeans ...and if you do you may one day also sleep a wonderful eight hours and yes youtoo can revel in the benefits..."

I had not so bril sleep in my 20s for phases....and do know what the answer is. 

as it has worked... without fail for 33 years...

No matter what

Now yes back to the job in hand part of which is if your therapy 'works' well you keep to plan A...

 two months ago it was to clean out a second cheap fountain pen...

And the meaning of life " act as if the good thing... mutually benefitial....  (FOR SURE - having watched LAnd of The Blind regularly as a superb cultural reminder of why 'woke' lanyardists are so thick and dangerous as they know they are always doing the longterm goodie goodie thing ...  especially by being blue, when its best to laugh at the  net result of their whole fake so called caring beurocracy...) o) will come to pass... maybe one day... " 

Anyway yesteraft nobody left..

And then out of the blue