The psychology of simplest living, via my stories of many years truly simplest living. Real ones - not earnest or pious.
Ten years a landloper. Time to tell those tales, too.
Ralphschism.com My permanent one home online started 22 feb 2023.
Start at the beginning (first 'post' - click 'older posts' bottom right hand corner ). Themes are developed and then woven together - a series of regular essays. Some in handwriting; some audio/vid.
ONLY peaceful nice content here. 07958 5263eight1
but it's about DOing the job to protect wood usually - rotting disgarded left out for months or years..... NO matter what may have been the sad nonsense in the background..of course one doesn't want to at the time get into too much in case they realise they werent exactly helpful even in respect of theior own job they rfretted was so outstanding..
(that cannot be sustained though never mind being so boring! and no fun...when jobs are just jobs and should be done ina fun way....
and i know i am a world record " dont EVER take anything to heart' ist
doing ones necessary stuff in an actuallt genuinely (common good) sustainable way which may mean is someone else actually needs the exercise rather than moaning about their aches or addicted to pills for them... sometimes attempt to include themtoo....
and then the walks....so many still to stick up....
and what happens between? if in always philosophical mode, sometimes some new creative thought or rethinking old uncreative times...
merely for fun, as it is....
and even being so stupidly not taking anything to heart ever sometimes out of the blue.... someone can simply allow their whole escence to so fabulous;ly 'lean in' straight into your fragile little heart even stood opposite Waitrose hahh hahh.... and ....maybe ... you've fallen in 'love'... i only like faces that show the battle scars oh crossing or not some line whom yesterday never matters only just how attractive they are! a face that has worn real life, rather than flouncy chiffon fluffy versions of it.. that merely leave the wearer looking all puffed up and pasty...
nobody tells the poor youngsters .... via culture or even polemic - real ones!
so it will only get worse.
but my earlier jobs have often bits of scurrillous real philosophy woven in....thats what theyre FOR...Im worth £50 an hr but take the minimum as it 'works': best thought comes in that very best of all mode as ive known twenny dull years and when unaprecuiated it works even better as one has done the job for doing the job in and of itself... which leaves oner even happier in a stark pure almost arty farty way...
i guess theyre all too FAkebook dumbed down to ever even consider any more...
Only a rare impossible chance encounter or joke about Waitrose...likely falling flat.
Being just like the words that the Narnian tribes kindof flooded the whole land with from sea to sea (which fail to protect any sea - as VARIOUS fine women of my acquaint thisteryear do also lament but wont DO anything about it like even write the pieces with me they said they would.... one even withdrew hers the only couple of cowritten things i thought were there forever as they were good!) yes shared language, shared humour, is now so hard... takes a long time to find.
And only 'story' or at least stuff that happens unexpectedly and is 'alive' works...
this one of a range of attempts over a couple of years ...'worked'... many reads and clicks on it ...
(two of about 5 'scenes' i have in my sexin'-it-up [ i never use THAT expression unless i trust someone] around how much more beautiful a middle aged woman can be when she accepts the grey and then guess what looks younger too..as two years ago right on the cliffs above the junky beaches of Porthleven a magnificent woman who i had landloped by aimlessly and in friendly posture said " and my skin definately as aged in harmony with the grey so as to look younger.." and many times i have queried this in peeps and they always agree and that's not picking on women sewerage systemites if they can symbolically give up the poison maybe they can poke the blokes too about how awful their brut or deodorant whiffs....all xenobiotics are bad period.... ].. i have a whole summer of portraiture on that theme ...
but still didnt 'work' in that as the lovely very wise older Greek said he knows that 'collaboration' is the hardest thing to find but worth looking for ... nobody ever follows through - dozens riffed with at great length always ending with "think about how to share these things in an engaging way....ohh yes and theres cash innit because NObody manages to do what is so obviously overdue..."
Anyway i hate polemic unless it is so rawly in the moment of being in an even better mood than ever i remained awake past bedtime buzzing and mulling... "how?"
But there's no point the pixies always gang up sooner or later and find reasons not to.... ever....
Anyway many years of absurdist little clips (parodying or lampooning really how the whole 'Youtube generation' isnt inspired by Youtube especially if they are 'creators' - so many if not all collapse into a xenobiotic ball of sludge with nothing to say at all as what they were saying not even they believed in it really... be it detox to toxic shamania.......so i have a decade of very arty photorealism the real version of realism, they and lovely very arty photos that need a verse or so
swhich will keep me happily occupied the rest of my life... since 'leaning in' to the Road (Cormack) - meaning, for the two dimensional if there are any left, that yucky word picture in his so so nihilistic book, as allegory metaphor or figure os speech for .... it all, now, as discussed so enjoyably yesterlateaft
But you do have to LAUGH - sanely and seriously at it ALL..... as i have been for several years full time and ten years part time...
but whilst attempting to DO....a bit at least...
"leaning in" is so good for you even if yet another of their saccharine phrases for never even replying to a note or email... as that would mean just a smallest hint one may just wish to be a tad part of something next.... which means effort and fear well read The Black Swan the only great 'self help' book that isnt but he knew it is as attempting to show how we simply NEVER can know how we feel the other side of any event new 'encounter'.. terrible event... never it's not possible. People are addicted to only assuming and knowing what cannot be known... the great Taleb so perfectly allegoried...
never mind it being the key to keeping the eyes bright and back upstuck for even longer....
jump...
(but as i have sermonised 10 years" ehh bungee jumping in the Amazon or from MAchu pichu....doesnt count as 'experience' .... only unphotographable even un 'successful' landin' on your arse with no safety net to catch you, ever ever can... be experience... the whole 'experience economy' a con merely for cash
Anyway one smallest polemic left to make this year and thats it never was any point even top elf seems to have gone wonky now three and a half years..... of nett result: nothing.
Which is freedom merely to jot ones reflections forever...
augmented by many an arty languid series of dawn shots etc etc but mine are real and sometimes have cheeky quips attached...
period.
pause.
(not peri that dont exist either you can either get up that duff or not, and i told someone no not a 'bit' of the story (see othersite) yesteraft but the saddest truth of them all..... on teh day that now in YUK it seems that in fact over 50% wont even let them out the au naturelle way
(interview with truly lovely and fierce just retired midwife a year ago utterly despairing of how her lifes work was wasted.... [many scientific reasons why au naturelle is best no qestion " when i started it was maybe 5% ...now most of them want the easy way... !" ....whicjh of course inst the medium term easy way as the real measurable lifelong health benefits having been booted out the funhole.... are measurable ...never mind " and over half cant give their kids longer life expectancy by tolleratin' a bit of a sore tit....i despair!" ...just like ive wasted every second of my unexpected 'activisty' caring..... but you just gotta do what you try to do even if you get it wrong
probably wont be viewable until 1300
i do have a fair few very avid fans who come here the second i click publish....wonder who? friend or foe.... which is the point it doesnt matter only knowing unarogantly that unlike every towny polemicist or eco'media' creator for 20+ years you have LIVED what you say first...before merely parroting some other Charles Eisenstein or latest clever dick towny guru who wants to be a guru rather than toilet cleaner ...but doesnt REALLY care what gets flushed down his bog...
thing is only sweet joyful content in a quite groovy 20 min piece made last night by my standards that is...
that at least sums up to be what i know to be the issue with the way 'sustainability' has been preached for many years and i so so need someone else to brainstorm how to.... next
just leisurely all the time in the world, but the time is now..
the younger people are 'ready'
though it may take time to finish this utter jumble whilst multi-tasking just to eat.... all them lovely ex employer smiley-fakers...
every one i am grateful for as every joyful day i know every second to now, is what was required... to be only ever happy no matter what
(how you 'beat' them smileything emojii.....no prayers ever involvedjust persisting)
Now even if the only ever ponderous nuanced cheery version of everything is ALL I am...
And the SW, well at least i met an honest London bloke yesterday even if he sucks up to the charismatic End of Times ists...
"In London and the SE it's only about get out of MY way..."
"but sir if half of PAstyland and much of its money and rather a lot of your Devon theme parktoo is also inhabited by such peeps brought up in London or the SE, do you really think they have a formative-years-transplant, too.... Ive meandered the whole world and worked and lived and taken in all sorts of other and less status driven materialist arrogant modes of being... but my formative years early teen and the years of being under old man Ralph's wing plus some real counterculturaluists who really were real community.... are still more me than anywhere else i may be....... dpoyou really think all their weekend at an ashram or retreat en route to their transplant changes them... really...really really? "
Now there is little point speaking with anyone long known especially the glorious summer of 2020, to women known for some years:
" theres a young child here... i spend my days with them sometimes her and her old swedish gran at the river by Wentes Park... her uselerss interior decoration obsxessed mum only moved here 6 mths ago.... the lass in is the now closed private school 20km away.... mum just flounces around her so so decorative front garden all day... this so beautiful extraordinary new friend of mine i had no idea i would ever have a little one under my wing again but Im an old bird .... can we PLEASE find her some local children to play with get invited to tea with... theres a few just up the road from her you know them..its your 'community'...."
To three mums and one mum-schoolteacher.... of that parish not even my parish...
Evert single one smiles and .... says the 'right' things...
The only image of that year i shall never forget even if its a downer in fact almost death sentence
Into the later summe r one day awaiting my cheaper pastie at the pastie shop on the corner (ohh i had asked themtoo..)
I saw a car drive by.... and the little girl - well actually a fine strapping one... turned to me as it rounded the corner just afront the still closed library
talk about emotion. All their ferkin martyrdom and all their false witnesses ...bearing...
our eyes met (her in the backseat)... our gazes laser-target captured one another as a jet piloyts horrid little death screen may in your movies... her head swivelling as the car cornered to 'hold' that infinite 'space' between us
Neither of us needed to smile
Nor say anything.....
As i know she knew... " you tried"
And she knew i knew i had failed....
to even nicely friendly "it takers a village to raise a child" just persuade one of these smiling toxic Teletubby parents of Presteigne....to invite a newly arrived lovely interesting kid with NO problems i had confirmed....
In their time of 'crisis'.... well past by midsummer 2020
to tea...
And i knew something inside her too had died - or of course grown up and seen the reality of being alive......poor Matilda
But what a privilege and impossible simply impossible as i knew i would never spend time with young kids again every day for years up to May 2020...impossible new life she sparked in me
Anyway 'I am' are two words i hate as i know everything is universal
Or pretty much unless your mum is the only one who isn't melodramatically entitled to her 'neurodivergency' extra council help and taxi fares...
which even New New New Nutjob Labour realise we could never afford, so.... find a village!
and mental issues 'phases' as doesnt befit the economic model of making cash out of them forever... rather than finding eventual real solution of course except for the truly disabled
But all rants even if face to face mine are usually very graceful or intend to be... are only ever against the self. I knew all my 20s that it was simply imp[ossible and never ever to be that i may be unatomised, unselfeliant - totally the world expert on being so, and phrases like "the common good" made me have an intestinal spasm... even if i had even run away with and adored some real adorable proper true Jesus-like counter culture real thing peeps age 16 (of course they didnt stay true to self one discovers years later at Princess Di's)..
It was impossible for me to listen learn even from great progressive enlightened books like Silas or Tolstoy's Resurrection (except the last 2 pages) even if i gobbled all of them up for years....
It was impossible not to be ... new and changed and one day seemingly the only one who even noticed Matilda's pain even though what a perfect cheery stoic...
It was impossible to look forward to sharing a motor to some losers Green Party meetup as i would find the driver so 'othering'-any-other-yoga-matty neurotic and pathetic
All of it was impossible.... until the exactly worst ever things in the world happened over a decade on and off...
Even if i had the greatest teacher ever age 30 the Oxford Ed mum of 3 nippers who taught me with kids its ONLY ever about what next, what you do tomorrow ... still it was only partly possible with my own (in regards to me and others then)
All i know is every single so called 'lifecoach ' or self help or Eckheart Tolle load of tripe... does nothing
And the only thing that does is " i KNOW who i am and this person/ project/ whatever is NOT me..... and i know i will not at all enjoy tomorrow if i let myself be in any way part of them/it.... especially as they have all trashed my kids planet with absolutely no self restraint where it matters...."
Until.....you just....DO
the opposite of what you know to be best safest and who you are...
It doesnt change your root personhood ...but you do.... 'grow' despite every other nonsense workshopped word being exactly that one and sadly..
nobody in presteigne as one of many examples, home of ex Sourtjherners all chanting with their farmers market smiles "we grow by our community [ paid] gatherings on how we are growing.." so busy growing...
nobody had even noticed why we are even here...
to be here for, Matilda...
(full film audio and many an interview with her old European gran - looked sixty ! as she was a fighter ...one day)
Anyway all these fake nooks like Wintering etc....
(there seem to be more than ever coming through now i was a bookseller 5 years i do know how books work in the UK...merely by hype!)
None will give a soiple equation: money from off or a L'Oreal pension pot or drug dealer bestie... well then they prefer to hire in the swish teams of van men from towns as they the landowner (and this one saw in past region all the time) despite every other word "we love our new Titley/ Presteigne etc etc community.."
dont have anyone like me local woodchopper or just friendly chatter over their gate... to see inside their psycho little castle of psychodrama or whatever they are scared of showing so teams from off at 20 or more quid an hr as they have to travel over they like...
its extraordinary even in 2020 and 21 in times of were all innit together....nope...
so be it YUK the gated communities in so many metaphorical ways
BUT a person with a local wage or landholding well they rightly need to make deals:
"ok.... i come and do a three day block....you can only afford £150 so i will stop by the laundrette on the way as its nearer you than me... spend a few hours of the day on my stuff including use the gate to air some of my laundry ....do 5 hrs of your stuff and three hours of my stuff whilst at your desrted property... and charge you UNDER the minimum wage for that 5hrs on your stuff, only, as i LIKE this space....and the job fills me with pride... shall we shake on that then ?"
its just astonishing how by pen and paper even.... as if it doesnt exist as if its pixi dust the written up deal... when you write it down for them....
right i have to find the sequence and all i care about is recording for my lost next generation that as i say the job is a dance...
and the clientelle so boring (endless references to mental health the ultimate excuse they all have for all gibbing edited out.... )
you have to make it fun somehow...
soon
the first twpo thje year before really are an opera mixed with Divine Comedy i do hope my mean readers may find some enjoyment - as i said to the seemingly near perfect woman today merely somehow to get the message over but with some laughs...
some engaging reality
five years ago i realised NO hope for my generation at all ever so its only about getting to the ... mums and dads of the next ...
All agree with me but nobody ever ever helps
and "hope" i have a superb longform real interview with the problem.... at Hay festival 3 years ago
" ohh but we must give them HOPE my dear ...[ London smartarse worthy journo type Cheltenham LAdy with friends in Horrorfordhsire of course to be near to 'Peters Little thing'..].... "
" god how THICK are you..... if we show and explain toyour kids just how truly insane mad and failed at environmental protection our whole generation have been - how we have broken every ruke we all knew of for 40 years ago never mind less is more even the rich old arfistos knew...more is just vulgar....
" and i have 20 years of stuff that shows exactly that..everty so called Green group mad terrorist con organisation merely set up to terrorise each OTHER if one doesnt have the same kind of yoga mat or attitude to humour or ... or of course nowadays, 'sexuality,......always....we could not have been more backstabbing fake and mad had we tried and thats without including even the top Green Goddesses like Lucas and the other one even faker.... if they see or hear or read that TRUTH they may figure ' ohh theres hope then....surely we cant fuck it up quite so badly as... our parents gen...' thats what hope IS you stupid woman..." the nice version of course in superb intellectual language as befitting a posh powerful Jane Austen fangirl old prune, type of interlocutor in the sun eating strawberries of course by Hay Castle
now...i do like to study and look for the RAREST creature a fine man witha backbone and a mind worth holding high upon it
(there is audio starts before the film i like chronicles but my they tale more time than i will have i guess....to fully recbuild)
well it's not surprising that not one of many parents i have spoken with in two years of their parthetic pasty diet actually can manage to think what they may attempt to tell their kids about the real harmful drugs when half of them suck on plastic all day...
righty ho now all i care about is five jobs i have done in 2 years as parable... well 8 or 9 if you count the several who sneaked under my sanity radar and my my they begged for help with truly important cresses at home..
All truly as Monty Python as Fawlty Towerrs....sad thing is its real and why she lost her land too.... herself.
I wouldnt show someone un less they really did the BIG gib somewhere down the line...just a few days on after the drugaddled best mate turns up too... girlfriend or not drugs really do mess up decent working relationships...
But it is why? they do it thats so fascinating - self destruct as that's what it is the lonely smiley-fake turns thief by breach of many an hour discussed contract..? even the once farm girl....
....and theres a clue here...maybe methinks so often seen.... (by definition they aren't too methodical, or wouldnt need to hire in help.udually just to sort the rusting discarded tools out first...clean the shed theyve let become rotten waste dump....(this one) .. and when faced with a job which MUST be done methodically or it will cost em twice as much time is money...it makes them realise what a mess sadly they are....despite all their 'work be it therapy or ENDLESS 'friends' who of course so maturely sort them out...rather than use them for drug money or other such favours...
Anyway a messy part 1 of 100s many of which have an old geezer whacking in posts better than any 25 year old could...
LOTS to do now must finish all new thought by 26 dec .. the gibbed dont get your Christmas and i wouldnt want it either....
just more fake smile
POST or in fact this will be a large whole massive section of all the same but some are SO funny i still laugh at the little girl antics of quite a few rather ageing old women who one would have thought knew better or WERE better than the endless fraud... endless
as i say...if in a couple if even seen with a maybe girlfriend one gets treated far more respectfully.....and every one down here for a few years i tell them until recently at least i am a virgin, very very spiritual, and reserved for someone else... even if i guess she too just poisoned fatally by all their poison
Now as i say.... lovely content! and in fact i am going to soon go back to my spring this one.... lots of walk and talk and lovely seascape stuff even if the simplest truth is most of the water is likely such a bubbling cauldron of nasty-bugs - and i drink it unboiled! I'm no wuss.. nor do i EVER comp-lain about any illness ever.
Living absolutely to the fullest deepest loveliest always happy simplified setting is truly only wonderful (as someone else seems to have also discovered even if sadly she -as partner in crime - a mind of her own, and REALLY sick to death of her (30 year employed by) corrupt and basically barmy NHS, needed to wonderlust off around the world to find her ...something or other.. or just 'self'. None of my business but i know she had never read a load of jolly good books before i took her under my wing...
But this smiley fake stuff - the landowning mainly [f.]s... tent years..
It needs writing with nuance and also depth...
But I may even forget the truly dodgiest aspect (and i am only interested in such stories as i know full well they are vehicle to tell the true tale of this sceptic aisle where all the data says our children are 5 or 6 more times fucked up than any EU equivalent never mind the almost unheard of false allegations every UK teacher knows " ruined many peoples lives" - i mean teachers never mind us ordinary civilians too. And thats before we dive into the real deep data of them slashing bits of their body very few EUs copycat or the pandemic of drugs - hard ones...ask a many year schoolteacher i met on my travels Mullion way - Hooray Henrietta paradise of yummies and bearded surfies...the ex Home Counties type.. more antique landrovers than stupid pieces of coloured plastic of the years long problems even her own young adult son had had with the ketamine as maybe 20% maybe even 30 or 40% of the kids around Southern Cornwall also experience...and not one of many parents i ever met have anything mature to say about it
Yes the weirdest thing that does need to be said and probably i forget: This morning once again i chat at length with one of the many many (disco version) toughwoman Christians... I estimate at least 50% of 30-60 year olds in the whole SW either are fairly fundamentalist Jesus freaks or the more common fundamentalist shmania infected 'spirituality' freaks...
BOth of which i thought were kindof about....morality....goodness...
As so often thistermorn " ehh if at least 75% of landowners screw you financially - booking a simple rural worker a few weeks ahead for work they say will be ongoing and then cancelling it just like that maybe theyve had a bad night on the vestel wine...drugs or maybe never had the cash they bragged of... never mind a sizeable proportion who outright diddle you...surely thats proof your 'end times' came about 10 years ago as RURAL HONOUR is the only reason the land ever could 'work' and these churchy creeps had their lands and greedy hoarding churches in the first place...and if the basic rural day worker is fucked over surely this is aroof your nutcase religions and even ubiquitous spirituality...has rather failed.... can we have a new record on now please maybe about morality on this planet now rather than some afterlife im sure youve never earned either...""
the nice version obviously....but not one for years has ever really understood...
Maybe i live in a parrallel universe..
THE JOB from MAy is being uploaded...
the whole job now...
then a few more....
lots for here by close of play...
and even more by 26 December ten year anniversary of i walked out one midwinter morning...
Now.... joining dots time even if 15 years ago i knew which to join and how to...
But ten magnificent years of parables to weave a few fables into... out of bulletproof casings of hard metal.
And of course the tragic porn salesman made his millions selling it... and his ilk with their 'trad wife' stoneagery need to be battled, too...
Or to put it as the way i put it to (greying hair to die for as i told her to her brightest eyes, and only 43...)
" i guide mothers' woman birthing partners into how they best partner in that operation..[in Narnia Central of course] ."
" ehh well i hope you would guide any hardman bloke too if he so asked or paid you whatever your rate is.... ... me i was entirely toughguy most of the time then the first time i wanted to change a nappy 33 years ago - not even full of half my own DNA... i knew i was quite good at it, and far more important loved every smelly funny moment of it and know it was THE solution to guys being guys..... "
voice 26 a few days ago on THE solution to the problem - possibly the most embarrassing long audio ever made but i believe in all...is for useful purpose
And today
voice 39
just merely as notemaking not possible
a potted history of 20 years of ....The problem - especially the last decade, a whole decade of landowners not keeping to the 'deal'
.....why?
well almost ALWAYS under the dark hem, of some or other hocus pocus 'spirituality'.... they hide behind as giving them the right to ....not keep to the deal...
not Trumpian 'deal' deals but simple rural currency: time is money as is sweat... or my fingernails even...so if you have mine, at least find some, nonsexual how dare you... way of paying a fair rate in return...
THis all does now need lovely pictures films many of me being hulky with sledgehammer this spring...soon - and pics of boxes of that one thief's expensive spiritual book and ceremonial collections (i rescued from the damp in the shed she couldnt be bothered to patch up and keep them dry).... she could have sold to pay for her breach of crystal clear verbal contract, all recorded for protection as usual 10 years of this thievery as thats what it is...)
Thing is the solution .... the whole 'new' age or even 'woke' age lot are just so utterly one dimensional in thinking ...folk...change...
For a few years a few outdoor fixing jobs were carried on a deux... me and equal sidecick female... and we never really rubbed it in we lived in one bed together.... but most assumed just that.
And she was in fact the sweetest most honest thing you could ever meet....
BUU even if we had one longterm customer TRY to thieve the last chunk of wages earned - our sweat and dedication to her JOB upfront never mind me going round on day 1 picking up Debbie's kids heroine needles littered the lawns.......
It was so so interesting ....
not only no sparks flying even if a literal screaming dervish of employer woman " well.... youve not paid about the real book price of that unused likely stolen banger out front....nope stop fantasisisng lets look up the ACTUAL book price.... the real version in the BOOK not your vapid spiritual version you symbolise as modern perversion.... lass ear its about time she got over her youthful rumpus and had a 'starter' motor..... logbook and signature at OURS by tomorrow morn..... and we wont tell many people in your fucked up little community how infact you are just another shabby conartist.."
All smiles and logbooks of course only at the very last 'moment' .... to make her point.
But this was only as she knew there were two - a tight couple on the same side.... who both also may have the same memory of every fantasist verbal contract these types come along all aromatherapy became shamaniac insanity
think arent a deal..... as they have some extra dimension
to themselves beyond comprehension
It's extraordinary how then ten years of being a single person same work same dedication....
Not one can ever even have a conversation
about how they fucked you over ...
which country folk knows with this lot happens...
every single yesterday
But tomorrow is startin' afresh JOBS need doin
no matter what they may say...
if known to be becoupled, it always works out eventually
If you're solo..... never, no way
audio number 1 a ten year failed questy meanderation...
see if there's ONE sane one left in this fucked up nation
number 2 about all that - the theft and in fact their tragedy (not mine i just bounce on though its SO endlessly predictable and borin'
.... but it's the WHY? thats far more interesting
THIS WILL BE ADDED TO LOTS AND LOTS SOON....
why, because not one of them ever even gets me down a bit...i am proud of the JOBS that were done....despite them
Thats no crime.... when enough of what they've been, certainly is
Nowe... thister most glorious ever one, well first equal with seventy six..
Somebody saw....
I notice almost all....
(they hate that almost as much as saying you're up every morn well before winterdawn)
And this is merely due to the person whom is actually of the land, even if 20 years bobbin about the more or less defiled planet, and its indigenous peeps....
nevertheless years of lost 'n 'lonely' on them hills - proper ones, no tourists colonise...
One has the 'bandwith' to use their eponymous mouse language not of grandeur and
even stevies magnificent awe-filled, Nicks....
whom is the one who ...well
"an old Welsh witch" ...
No..... in old welsh Wales - by which i mean my new age modern magnificats, then, nobody gave a fuck about Pendle... but we gave a fuck about the smallest mouselike one who may be excluded from the party or fun...
But as they colonised especially from exactly twentyish years ago....
It is almost as if they had second sight of how as they ripped off the next generation having ripped off their 'community' back in Woking or Walsall so as to get their Barbara Goodelife cash when pretending to cherish them rural landspeople in their new runaway community....they'll need some fall back position, which basically became, even if there are ten different variants all i have note of over ten different years all the same, indeed since poor Nina's first attempt - she even turned hers into a book,
hell bent on being equal with her fey sugar daddy,
number one baddy:
".... the country babes ...
...especially those with 'special' powers ..
'pagan' ....even 'shaman'.... so ruthlessly bashed about by all those baddie knaves..."
Becomes a get out of gaol free
sick note
For not paying your dues...
Ever.... that 'compact' of small scale fragile even precarious rural 'economy' based on real economy, that of making maximum use of every precious moment
when weather ok and one has mojo at least ninety percent
But no everything became about their fragility
performed of course to get one over on the likes of me
(but i dont complain, i know the legions of me one by one drowned in their fakely tearful salty sea...
of just there to be seen ...
daylight disguise, coverup
up all night on the shopping sites
(the first of the new phase such a perfect archertype - and as she died of being herself god i wish i had my prtotective habit then
year eleven
ago.... HOWever we ....we.... me and then elf.....did catch some.... of how her archetipical behaviour regarding her two "learning disabled" tennants she monetised...
merely because with medical ticket it was her ticket to guaranteed forever rents...
paid by you,
when in fact poor Adrian a days work he could do...
As we attempted to assist but....
(in that few weeks is every single word of why even Nigel wont have a hope in hell of cutting back the PIP bill with his mission bell.... Debbie C the true genius actress ... way ahead of her time.... in manipulating the system.... just for she
is up shopping most the night til half past dawn
despite pretending no signal ... at ten to working time)
Another much better story filmscript in one merely simple job....
to be cont
But theres one thing the rather obvious woman of no discernable income, livin in a big stolen house .... the endless "im a carer carer carer.."
best ever disguise for being,
Moth and Raynor
(poor things their latest cross to bear)
But then the ones whom really really took the pee
Now.... me age not even twenty three
i can't ever forget that lesser Princess .... Iranian goddess
(i taught to fly.... ok a bit of uncle Sha's dodgy cash siphoned of the Britolite refineries.... but the perfect modern arabian woman, no shyness there...
perfect un fidgetated ... flouncy hair...
so quiet and so humble.... " im only at peace ...no earthling understands me, up in the air.."
Rhana i cannot ever forget...
never mind a couple of splendid Pallies in years then came
but then the rivers, seas.....
fucked why? and all in between
Not content with no virtue signalled by fake Pendle concern...
"ohh my god the poor Pallies every day they burn..."
to be cont
the solution:
well there's at least someone who should have kept his beard....
OR just how it happens..... especially among the so 'self individuated' poor little old ones of the land...
Thing is even if each one makes herself (sorry, it has been 95% of the time) out to be gods gift to ...(local 'community' etc details later) ...
they all cannot communicate except in lines of Fakebookese... and this wouldnt understand a propper paragraph along the lines:
each and every one, for a decade (or two if the first Mister and Mrs Nina is included) each and every clearcut and fully evidenced 'breach of contract' - arrangements to work freelance on the job going with their flow, of pocketbook or i narcistic " weather nice on weds ill have you then" rather than " my weekly day of you i'm sure a few others have a day of you a week so you can eat, and we ALL want the same thing a nice day with you, so is it ok i have that one nice day of you forecast next week or do pother landowners have more pressing weather critical needs..?" dont be daft this is UK only the self is what its been about all century
......but the bit they wont get ... am so happy for - each and every utterance their comeupperance even if theyll never be identifierd, but a true gift, as within each a story that is fable, parable, words of warning but far more interesting, a Russian novel written in Stalinist Times.... what is the truth behind the facade? that one couldnt fully share with anyone then...
But now becomes the time. Because there always was one solution. And I'm into what next.
Your eyes (are), my daylight They guide me through the dark
His eyes too....as in the Uttermost place in the universe we stood and discussed that Sublime....
But then as if predicted by that very chat even if ive had it so many times before...but not with a real man, no so called debate - an excurse to show off Rupertine, arrogance...., pure harmony...
" 'it recreates itself every day',,,, to quote the rather mean and stupid old snobby Oxford don.... the last words he said to me.."
to which the man with daylight in his eyes even if rather black like someone i once knew... tells me what it really means....
that little three word meaning of life Ive had in my notepad over a decade, which was rather flashing red on my very assiduously retained ... mental todo list...even bucket.
exactly, in context, and ....with his eyes.
Anyway a sublime, of sorts, it just occurred even if i knew... even fourty years ago:
But 'they' needed us too....
and clearly still do.
If Marisa was in essence only allowed or inspired to a one hit wonder, and Anna, too...
something happens in these
slightly 'machismo' territories....
In fact you can see it in the poise and hands of the probably very average
banjo player, stage left
A woman flies, even further than that far star
on the way to the gutter the other side of the street, most lucky to make it to
And perhaps the men would close around, own her sublime fabulosity...
and never again would she ever create anything as perfect, in infinity
A pattern in such once macho lands
and dont believe the latterday disco diva versions
are anything but a feyboy-produced perversion...
because....hmmm.....
lets just it put it this way
no agent empressario tv station owner
nor copeformer
would dare to have even left a coffee-ring direction
about which way next
on something created by Empress Mrs Siouxsi
never mind fuck with germ Free Polly
(finds me one Euro diva desrvent of the label,
who made more than one sunrise
and i'll eat my shitpan before your eyes
and i am quite quite able
i dont lie)
anyway back to business i thought was OVER!!
And bugger me up at the highest romantic atchin tan
ablutions in one simplest pan..
of luxury so called springwater, deep midwinter tough guy
version...
And flippin eck up comes one from The Source of all Sources
Well i hope she remembers my little chat on the meaning of life
(whatever it takes both you and your wife!...ehh perimenopause is not a word, either... it either sticks or dont, believe me thats all that matters....doggin', this new swappy-surrogate trend but make sure the paperwork is iron clad....
doesn't matter how... or who's the dad
i can tell beneath the perfect smile ... not sad
but don't become like them down below"
blahh b;lahh right thats enough keyboards never made one jot
of difference to her 'universe'...
....anyway the very very last fortnight of such a long quest,
but i know what it's really, for, now...
a few days ago
and as for their "community" well i waited...and waited....
we shall come back to this one day another ten years to get to book 50.
right much more important, outdoor sublime art for a reason.,... but it doesnt work here
It once did...in the actual 'environment' - The Wastelands The Badlands where every picture needs a poignant few paras
And i will.
Hmm home?
now the story in two people's words, collaboration, guestly appearance almost as if one....
well its better than your dreadful Darcy's mum. Fact.
But there's something far far more poignant than getting the servant to run a next bloody loveletter round the corner...
And i can't even hint or give a clue
Well actually i think i could
But.... there's old folks to consider, who aren't us
weren't there.
Meanwhile back in the land of number one gib.
A year ago..... Queen of every castle
Local versions shabby discombobulations
I don't fib.
That story soon...
As warning
Glastonbury really doesnt do much for woman dog or caravan
and discarded rotting awning....
Even when they preach 'global warming'
soon
merely as aide memoire as really she gave me a clue
Right now i have REAL pongoing business
which will be finished despite her mess.
I complete what needs to be
irrespective of what even she
thinks is fait accomple
("damaged people are dangerous as they know they can survive" well ignoring them's what makes me always thrive)
BUt at last ten times more important even if i can't remember whats been left in sanctuary here and whatnot
yert
but it wasn't time just yet
but the actually best atch, actually...for duel purpose, infact three
BUt this for sure is new as Im only half way through
**
thats the past i must get to for real
this the future
there is no
'now'
but there is power.... and i know how to use my superone
I WILL fix it one day!
But the depth of story just behind one seemingly inane nothing imagery
Thing is i don't know if i could chose I'm so unused to.......
be cont
right its dumpping ALL TIME
even if i only want to get to thistermay
MY one most prized quality
I can still solo sledgehammer
(never any assistance all too busy doin their nails)
even the toughest narrow post
And not hammercrack it ...
precision force and gentleness and i though i would be ghost
of former self, quite the very opposite dont you know
all i know is i know nothing, except three of us found i think the meaning of life
today, unplanned, and i only do anything to, well....
leave behind.
Right now there is one thing that causes my reader numbers to crash burn and run away hissing like badly made cheap chinese firecrackers with no purpose in life other than to simper and flicker into nothing but more rubbish upon this already overtrashed planet, which is when i attempt to get very Socratic and seriously good-writerly...
so i expect it will be at zero readers forever more, soon...
as i will succeed.
Its already in a whole years worth of audio longform....
ONLY because i have ten unused giggawatts before reset day
now... this is even more Lady Chatters than err put together with dodgy Darcy you will see, soon
I've been playing at it, three years, until.... today
....couldnt Miss Understand, vulnerableise, samesexualise, the great moment in literature, Mister Hardy
has his Gabe, by a bridge if i recall,
being rather blunt, upfront, to the point
promising " a piano flowers and steady care..."
what a lovely last couple of words there
And in fact the adaptation was what should be proudly 'nation'
his matter of fact, no act, just mumble it like it, IS
So beautifully related
dont think there was even any farmers gated
stuff, just one man stood in the early eve or was it dawn
" ehh up Missus well... [ive played at least me first pawn
in the great game, eventually he got his queen, after rather a lot of discombobulation
melodrama addicted SOUTHERNERS in charge of the wonky nation...].."
however.....
Now Ma Elliot couldnt quite match Thommy
in his splendid fantasy
that doesnt have to be
and so brilliantly delivered centuries later, by that so called BBC
(before everything became only about insignificant 'minority'
whom for fucks sake, havent arrf 'ad for years 99% majority
so theyve grown up now, can we get back to the point)
I listened to it thisterdawn
(several hours merely pondering, no devices
not even a nice email... that can wait)
Theres me at last audio wafflin' the big one:
why, especially in shoulder lands,
reputation, wage deflation
(by the time she's knocked off her gibber's quarter
dad's house - always!, and the unhappy daughter)
Anyway ehhh..... even when you're facing up to boss
If known to be becoupled, far less loss
of wages .... and even mutual respect
oops gone and elongated what merely was to rhyme with 'wait'
yes waffling upon it, even at his farmers gate.
I didnt dare listen, even to begin the edit
"what on earth DID i say to him!!?!!
bugger me ....now i've addit!"
Thing is ...if it worked....
Darcy's mum, Maggie Tulliver's
fabulous creator, even Thomas and his most romantic ever marriage mutter
will be consigned to second best, mere trifling, no test....
of what its all about
Now to get back to all that matters 2022 even if it began long before
the way they tricvkled in with newwords even if long scholarly intellectual
but first "bipolar" infact before everyone was then branded " asby.." which turned into "narcissist.."
Nothing to do with me propper Gabriels just trundle on and persist and if youve persisted without jumpin off the big one or losing all your hair, quite
and sleep 8 hrs at night
well all is well, "centred" if one must
But i have also done their 'psych reports' and legal work...
the state must have some care about who's really gone berserk
or where its merely made up so some lanyardist can profit.
(i used to think the Southern 'Guardian Reading' type did care
silly me but that's ...well its in the 'free speech' audio the other day)
upsy downsy hot 'n cold.... all of that
the one word i would never ever wished to be even remembered in my company
nor anywhere else, is grandiosity...
When you live utterly aside,
genius at 'stealth' no need to hide.
For four years solid just be
nobody nowhere (in the quietest places, where one is only solitary)
constant....
and if overeggin' owt, time and space to internally repent
nope.... that audio on why to be two if you can
with a special guest appearance by a finest old man
That Madam George was THE greatest writer in the English language - of any straightforwardly jolly true novel that is, rather than Shakey's melodramatic death cult stuff ....whom i KNOW wrote in conjunction with the Missus... (even if they will forever deny her that truth even if the letters rediscovered a year or so ago say his Missus remained jolly good chums with her toy boy all her life and kept fully in touch.... and anyway if she was so much his fabulous educator in the ways of the 'world', all that maturity brushing away schoolboy insecurity
under hay rick or in the dark shadows under Bridge of Lurchery...
... older bit of totty
well of course she was his senior boss and co jotter...
Until the Chelteethams go and get all gushy and gussety ...
ruining my perfect morning.
Which in fact is the point: nobody gets gussetty over Silas as in fact he vuia his mum stuck two findgers up to ALL of them.... church, aristo, bigwig, midwig (standard bourgeoisie i just invented that innit cute!), and fleas crawling around under the midwig - i.e. lesser petit bourgoisie...
(god i hate being creatively cheeky without trying ANYthing - i never rev up in fact thistermorn is the exact opposite the handritten version already slowly jotting... thats the meversion of me.... as my people the mellow humble landgirls of course are intimidated by it when 100 years ago they would have danced a jig with metoo, it.... why Ragged Trousered did sell millions as there wasnt this bolshie modernist nothingism.... )
... because Silas saw through them all even the fake biological dad, and without being rude nevertheless did make it clear what rite 'n rong was and left it to his daughter to chose.....
And she chose correctly so its not as if some pumped up hooray Henry ferkin Darcy or whtever his name was, had ANYthing to do with it, nor any hoitytotty letters poppin back n forth...
As Eppie Marner knew only the eyes of the man who had adopted her ... and how they always were there gazing upon her own best interests no matter what...
And her so valiant attempt at trying to understand her own creation, Daniel Deronda, was maybe even a greater act of genius as she knew ..it was complex.... and thus left us mere readers not even entirely satisfied with her effort as of course that's the right feeling to inculcate, when all 'people'ing is almost beyond words...
But no.... the Cherltenham ladies have no memory except for whatever is the thing... today or the next day....
Which i understand entirely. As i have now 'lived' it enough: in a quarter of a decade just... wondering or not even knowing i needed to wonder " who are they?" Until i have.
Now... there is nothing worse than "giving away your core inner being me, lived or even dead.... as i care only about my reputation.
Reputation management is such an icepick through the head, of a phrase when all that matters even if it doesnt really in the grander scheme, is does one own descendent even have the first idea of ones basic identity? And figuring not because she is of the (to me) 'other' identity - the great masses of The South... (defined as East of a line going along the Eng/Wales border and South of around Manchester, though the former went and got all discombobulated as gradually those who couldnt afford to piss of the poor Pasties making them so much richer than they pretend by buying their spare dog kennels to live in or fill up with their pairs of designer dogs.... ended up gradually buying the land and spare dog kennels in Mid then even West Wales from around 2010ish which nobody would have second sighted...
Anyway i accept every smallest psychogeographical fact, but you have to understand why....just a tad.... or you are forever perturbed which is the foundational myth to becoming angsty...
Pretty much all 'feeling's just modern cultural con...struct
And even if The Source is part of something else, really... (the total destruction of once sane NON 'woke' environmental solidarity)
Its just the mass formation of bourgeois mores.... even upon their moors....
You have to really live, or you cannot understand how a watered down version diluted the once more sane version of at least part solidarity....in the actual country...
side, aside all this....
But its that year, that one seminal year 2022, all of it... that needs picking apart
and RAgged Trouserin', to start
As the thing about the Southerner B or MW or even smoked out lost little underiggy flea...
is (i didnt know) they think everything is only ever about "me"
and that is the only way for them it can be
And only a real fool thinks you can change anyone...
well anyone who hasnt been years and years 'aside'
often with only a few good books within which to hide
away from decades ago the great bullnecking, dumbing down began...
And start publishing a decade of interactive reflections i must have at least once per each of the 50 volumes - at least 30 or so volumes meandering Socratically whispering in the ears of UKIPPERS from 2015, and all the so called EU lovers whos rhetoric was merely about lying busses " dont tell anyone especially the greens as all they care about is the made up vulnerable victimised 1 ish percent who are 'undecided' ... and thus use the worst rhetoric ever extant.... but the reason we are 'better together' is never mind all English ones ive known requiring a bit of education .... in how to be a lover being slow and languid, or just poppin' into the unisex after a real coffee on your first date.... ideally from Them frogs....anyway, as i jhave said a million times beforfe into my chronicles i always knew French was the most beautiful language of all.... until forced to learn some Portuguese and learning i was wrong, it being without any doubt is by far the most beautiful language ever...."
which seeing as their literature can be a bity staid and often contrived (except Pereira,
hopefully harbinger)
Is unquestionable 50 vol with ruthless editing stream of being very conscious of truth and should get at least a few
Portuguese cultural medals, often part of formal Orders of Chivalry or merit systems, recognize significant contributions to culture, public instruction, and general merit, with key examples including the Order of Public Instruction, Order of Merit, and historic military orders like the Order of Saint James of the Sword,
just one will do
as long as there's a passport rightly appended, to what is true
even if i bet theyre also pissed off - in fact i know they are pissed off about
i hear things that are real from real people i ask
not the rabbit hole version of the internet
(the only one all the Glasto girls found)
the fact that every dodgy snake-oilista and drug dealer from Horrorford (ohh and tax credit thief claiming them for yerars despite running a cult out there - espesh that one so called healer-mama who never even let the kids see their dying dad, Dolphin, i organised a free pardon for and wages, if she set herself up by his bed a few months) went and bought a field - doubtless within a few years littered with old cans like that eco-retreat Goosebarn by Gweek, and put up a yurt and started a 'healing' business, without the correct zoning paperwork.... too busy all in their 'spiritual' zones ....
they - the poor Portuguese saw through it all and realised some years back, "ooops .."
now..if that book could be rushed out....
May help their indigenous kids be able to afford their homeland once again.... never mind create an actual 'safe space' once more.....
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