Asshole

My Behaviour

I met an old acquaintance at a party a while back. God it was a difficult night. So many coked/pissed-up people. It was in the West End. Coke is super popular everywhere these days. It’s a total bore. People on coke are the biggest assholes ever. There’s an arsehole-osity about every drug, but coke is the worst. It turns any decent person into the biggest twat ever, full of themselves and bursting with stupidity and obnoxiousness. 

It was a difficult night of bizarre human behaviour and of enforced interaction with said humans. 

I had to leave the place several times due to noise and general busyness of humans. One woman recognising I was mad (as I ran out shouting) kindly asked me if I was okay. That is the first time that's happened.

I met lots of people from my dim and distant past. One was Xxxx. 

Our relationship had been one of falling in and and out with each other all our lives. We’d clearly had enough of each other by this point as we aren’t in touch nor want to be. I told him in some form of confession, that my frontal lobe had probably never been all that and that I’d never really known how to behave, hence the huge drunken faux pas, the devil’s advocate in me, and other non-normal behaviour. He seemed to concer, as though he’d always realised and it seemed like some kind of understanding or nod of acceptance.

Don’t get me wrong. I know him so well and know all his tricks. But I’m assuming he knows mine so that’s fine. It was an interesting culmination of our acquaintance and mutually intimate knowledge of each other.

It was a nice way to part company.

No News

I’m no longer allowed (J says!) to read the news. The Frontal Lobe being what it is I get so wound up with things - things from my dim and distant past, or something I read in the papers, particularly  about the current situation. Stuff just boils over in me and she’s worried it will get me into trouble.

To be honest I care less these days, hence my previous post. Thing is I think these arseholes should be called out. But I take on board what she says too.

It’s a fine line writing a blog while trying to be confessional, warts ‘n all, and also being economical with all the truth. It affects other people that you care about.

As Phillip Roth said, ‘When a family produces a writer, that family is finished.’ It certainly was in his case. I want to be that, but I know I can't be.

I think there's a level of cruelty needed to be truly honest.

Return to Contentment

Yesterday I ran a game at The Willoughby. It was an old easy-to-run vanilla dungeon. I kept the numbers small and was very strict about who the players were. We started at 2 and finished at 6.45pm. I had a good time and so did everyone else. It was a pleasure to DM and it played really well.

I think we were all due a good fun session as we were all in a parlous state in one form or another.

And now the weather…

Today it’s beautiful out there. Frosty and a blue sky. 

I’m really affected by the weather and I love cold frosty mornings. They’re just beautiful and lift my spirits. 

Miserable, wet cold mornings mean working outside and perpetual cold and misery. Work sucks.

Bright mid-summer mornings give me a shiver down the spine as it’s exams and I haven’t revised!

Gloomy dark mornings mean the 1970s (Winter of Discontent power cuts etc) which is also Stoberry Junior School - a pretty happy time for me. Though not the Infants School. No. That was hell. That’s a sunny memory.

I don’t know if anyone else equates weather quite like this.

Ghastly.