Mark stayed for 2 days. It was really nice. We walked the dogs, drank a lot of beer, made private jokes we wouldn't want anyone else to hear and played a game of D&D with 2 other friends who are neighbours. It was good fun.
My last post "Darkness' caused a bit of a stir with people asking if I should have written it at all. I'm feeling a little guilty over it but I have to be authentic in my own experience. Having talked to J about it she may well be writing her own response to it as her experience was of course markedly different from mine. We're perfectly over it of course. She may even write a parallel blog to this from her point of view as the long-suffering partner of an FTD(sv) patient.
The thing is one of the main things in my condition is a lack of empathy, or the erosion of that part of my brain which is responsible for it. So I can be totally inappropriate in certain situations as I don't pick up on the mood or tone of the situation, then act in a completely contrary way to how I should. Then I get upset at the reaction. A lot like being a teenager in other words.
Yesterday Jacqui and I watched 'Nobody' which we really liked. J loves John Wick as well. We love a certain type of ultra-violence but not the other.
Today I am putting lots of hyperlinks into this blog, but the novelty is wearing a bit thin.
J is currently having a hair-do. I am writing this. This is as existential as it gets.
Yesterday when Mark and I were walking the dogs, we decided to go a certain route in the park and this old guy was about 100 yards (91.44 meters) ahead of us. His old dog was lagging behind and did its business. The old guy was completely oblivious.
I called out "Hey, your dog's just done a shit there!" Shit was the only word that came to mind. Don't worry - it's only Old English so it's not swearing.
Fucker looked at me then continued walking. The steam was rising from the turd in a most beautiful way in the low sun, clearly marking its position.
I saw red, then said to Mark that we should go a different route as I was going to be making a massive scene by screaming right in the dog-owner's face, and the park was very busy. So we veered off towards the ponds.
I'm glad I headed myself off at the pass, but equally I hope the dog owner falls over and hurts himself badly by sliding on a dog turd.
I also stopped myself going to the ponds as there are signs everywhere telling people to have their dogs on leads as the wildfowl get injured. Loads of cygnets have died recently as people's dogs have attacked them and there is a hospital which deals with the park animals who have suffered overwhelmingly from dog attacks.
You point this out to people. Some ignore you. Now I can't deal with that, and there is a level of entitlement with people - especially in SW London - that rules are for little people and obeyance is for proles like you and me, but not them. Jacqui always leads me away from the ponds now, for the potential damage I will do to humans.
Maybe I should go on a lead?
That's enough for now, playmates.
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