Now, what's the troofff.....

 Even if she didn't get her twoblue

ticks

loads of them this year especially as if one often takes ones afternoon nap in the hills on the grass, without any spray in sight....

(of course that was the first 'master slave'  nonsense... bantering at the little  ticky 'toolkit' they all think nowadays is the root saviour in everything...when actually it's merely laughing at them, all, always... that's the saviour of all, and leads to great sleep always ) 

so the trooffff.... is never one dimensional, but at least there is a hidden dimension in most matters that matter, in that when one has all ones time wasted never mind all ones life sucked out of one, vampirically, even from the other side of the world.... 

giving up, even if I always act as if the best thing mutually will come to pass... still, i.e. notionally, provisionally; well freedom from having to actually communicate ones care has at least left one a tad more energised.... or maybe just tennish remarkably good little books in a month in the hills... and a return to the first. Which i knew was cheesy a bit sillybilly....a bit showoff....  but it turned out i couldn't put all 500 closely printed pages down... and thus really did end up with a propper tick fest..

in tribute to him and his  life and death trudging through swamps filled with all sorts of nasties... no choice, death, or life..

and before sunhats or waterbottles were invented 

(i LOVE her she called me thisteraft an 'aboriginal'.... sweating in the sun at her weeds.... but i love her for far far more   real reasons than cheeky banter... that only the Northerners know about ....i told her the story.... she told me their names)

 

Now...a long time ago in fact 2020 i invented a kind of new advertising, working title 'gonzo advertising' where not only do you NOT smile... you do have to tell your REAL story over a  period (no 'celebrity' or even fake eco man such as packham i hear on the wireless, always, as if he's the only one, could ever do - it's not compatible, truth and being known UNLESS....you have watched Land of The Blind and took it in, right propper ) so that the punters  know that not only can't you lie, but always expect the truth = the worst, and also having been a single parent one knows how around 20 years ago they all got so so crafty and engineered everything to look like it will last for some years, whilst indeed using raw materials even more cheap and  flimsy than ever, and likely to not last even a week...  even B+O .. even quite a few top brands.... 

In short real advertising that has your name and phone number with it so conned people can phone up and slag you off if your review or smile is false as they all became...

And when EVERY pound counts as mine have for decades i resent even spending one, even if that one i don't think i did....

But was a good investment even if i paid in blood and the even more valuable currency, so so much time...

a photo entitled 'man management' 

In that a REAL woman of the hills not only doesn't nag  she also knows how to make her manslave happy

As just cos they went and invented some so called Constitution to be all 'Enlightened'  two and a half centuries back, all a slave really wants is a bit of  decent nosh..

And....

though every art installation expert in the world could not manifest the most extraordinary five dimensionality in this picture.

So i better write that story one day...

But cannot yet! due there's no real free speech...

The first easy dimension " ehh up luv, bosslady.... ive fallen in love with you already.... itoo leave little hippy bits of wildflowers in their lawns  in fact its my stamp...mine... all i care about even if often a battle ...but you have a whole lawn of hippy wildflowers gosh they are as lithe, alive and beautiful as you...and i'm not bantering now."

how....ever.....

The dimension you really do want to encounter

Is a most wise old bird, (ewwww him....god another reason to leave,  Manchester always was full of Pandy Panted fakes...")

" ... we lived fifteen years out there.... I adored Nelson.... ok we lived in a  gated community with real security guards and landmine topped walls....  but when i returned here.....  gosh it had changed..... even up here in La La land ..... i feel LESS safe here  than i did  than even back there.....even in the times of delightful rather chubby Michelin Man style rubber necklaces, you knew where you were with the folk there... 

"here.... i fear almost everyone .... and as for the tragedy of the young men... no they dont put that in the tourist guides...  as you say i wouldnt drive on the roads after dusk either....ever... as three of them  high on drugs proved recently...

" so beautiful they were too...."

"DYER KNOW WHAT you beautiful woman... ... you are the ONLY one this whole region, errata Englandborne,  i know  i can tell you one of several tragic real truths.... 

" my many year last hills.. you meander well i did all the mentally ill there dont ever get up anywhere and thats just the ones without an official diagnosis..

" but maybe once a month i may see someone up on the paths there ... and one was fully alive and honourable  - as walkers always are or were, if our paths crossed, and we chatted true chats, and even bantered... 

" i never truly hated being a man until i arrived in this region.... 

"any woman one spies out in the wilds, or even in a park....

"  if one is even slightly on a collision course.... as a people watcher and noticer of all things outdoors i notice often from one hundred metres they tense up... their posture changes... and nobody knows me in this region.... i feel a frequency of vibrating hostility or fear or whatever it is but it is truly horrible.... i had no idea it was like this in Other Parts...

"its so sad... and there's no way back from it....do you know what i am speaking on?"

" yes....even i old and rinkled and ive lived my life.... and arent even afraid of lions in the jungle.... here, i walk only in ...fear.."

"leave radically beautiful one... you are not  too old.... you really arent your posture is amazing, and your embodied flow superb....  as if you did do hot radical yoga every day all day instead of laugh at my jokes about it..... 

"let me tell you about a place i didnt ever want to go...knew for a fact no doubt at all, immediately i would be stabbed the moment i got off the plane as Wikkipedia said it was the poorest place in South america.... and...."

To, NOW.... be continued, as there is only one energy...and it isn't anger. 

It's just never being afraid of any truth.  Even if i am a perv and it turns me on... all the true version of the horrors of all of it.

But that's not enough, you have to be able to weave it into something real and and  bit animal spirit and parable polemic but in disguise  such as  the only time a child in literature has ever been used correctly...as Jerzy's 1965  vehicle 

for grown up reality

and i do it all bloody day in my head, notepads, even sometimes in the occasional person-to-person communique...

But then nobody ever seems to value any word any more... 

And mine are so valuable in that even a page or two uses up a whole days allowance of laptop..

Or rare good film time .... 

Lets see what Francois (m) did to...it

the ultimate in thoughtful philosophy