A different world

Well, it’s Saturday morning, and I think I’m finally sober. I’ve been drunk for the best part of two weeks now, which I’ve become worryingly used to. I did have a three day dry spell, but that ended when I went down to the pub on Tuesday. I just needed to get out and see people, whoever it was. So, shock-horror, I went down to my regular pub, which I haven’t been to in a couple of months. Their Facebook said they would be open at midday, but when I turned up fifteen minutes after noon, their imposing main door was shut and bolted. Luckily, because I’m a proper alcoholic, I had their number stored in my phone. Double-lucky, a member of staff I’m friendly with answered the phone, so she let me in early, which was cool. I got to see them setting up before their official opening time, which was like peeking behind the curtain at the Great and Powerful Oz. They make it look so easy! Anyway, I actually asked the two members of staff setting up, who know me very well, whether I’d done anything to annoy anyone, as I was getting bad vibes the last time I was in there, and they said they hadn’t heard anything. There’s definitely one regular who hates my guts, and may have been turning a new member of staff against me, but I think I accept that now. I’ll just be sarcastic to him from now on. Prick.

Some people you just can’t win over, I guess.

So that ended my three days of sobriety. I think I’ll leave it today, even though I have a few beers left over. I’ve pretty much drank myself sober, which is apparently a thing. Or, at least, it is now.

I called my dad Wednesday night. I think. We had a nice, long catch-up. He’s apparently been very paranoid about catching Covid, still shutting himself in more than usual, so he’s been appreciating people giving him a call. Odd really, as he’s never been particularly bothered about stuff like that since I’ve known him (all my life, if you can believe it). Maybe it’s his age. I was a bit annoyed that he hadn’t called me after hearing my ex had died (he knew her pretty well), but whatever. I think his girlfriend keeps him under the thumb, so he’s reluctant to ring out. Sad, really.

All in all, I think I’ve passed through all the main stages of grieving. I can’t say I liked being sober for those three days last weekend, which is why I feel off the wagon so easily. I’ll probably try staying dry now until… well… the next time.

I’ve heard nothing regarding a funeral or wake or anything ex-girlfriend-death related. Even though I went out with her for nine years, I doubt I’ll be invited or even told about stuff like that. Sigh. Me and a friend are casually planning a road trip together to do our own little personal goodbye, so you might see some YouTube clips from that in the coming months. I’d call her a “mutual friend” of my ex’s, but I guess she’s just my friend now.

I did try sending a voice message to my gaming buddy about what happened, but I think that must have failed to send, as he’s not reacted to it at all. Unless he just doesn’t know what to say, so he’s not said anything. We did game together last Friday, where he was being very argumentative and racist, so I’m not sure I want to speak to him again. He’s really growing up to be quite a grotesquely ignorant individual. You’ll notice I haven’t uploaded any clips from that gaming session. I was still in shock about the ex passing, and my gaming buddy’s nasty behaviour was battering me senseless. I don’t think I pressed “Record Game Footage” once.

I did chat to my guitar guru finally. I drunkenly left a message on one of his YT videos asking him to call, as I’d deleted his contact in my phone, and he actually called! Mind. Blown. He’s a very sweet guy, but prone to temper tantrums. I’m still not sure why we hadn’t chatted in months, although I did wonder whether he was pulling some sort of power trip (making me contact him first), but I’m too tired to bother thinking about that shit anymore.

Everything feels so trivial now. I haven’t played guitar in ages. Doing anything constructive just seems pointless. I just want to sit getting drunk and watching Parks and Recreation, which I technically do quite a lot anyway, but now on a full-time, permanent basis. Still, I’ll try to make this the last post where I talk about this, as there’s nothing worse that somebody droning on about grief.

Right, let’s do Saturday.

Bah humbug.

A friend at peace

So they finally returned to redeliver my shopping at 8 pm. It was a lovely young man who came. I think he was expecting me to be ranting and raving, but I just blamed myself. Probably because I was to blame.

Anyway, I settled down to some beers and texting a mutual friend of my ex, who mentioned that my ex hadn’t been returning messages. I tried sending one and called her mobile and house numbers, but she didn’t answer. None of this was totally unusual behaviour, as she does usually have an annual meltdown around this time of year. These meltdowns often lead to friends having to go banging on her door, so we weren’t too worried. The next morning the mutual friend rang with the worlds “It’s not good news, I’m afraid”, at which point my stomach sank. Another mutual friend, a doctor, who I think had a key to my ex’s house, found my ex collapsed on the floor. It doesn’t look like suicide, apparently; more like one of the many medical conditions she suffered from. Being just the ex-boyfriend who hadn’t been in touch in a while, I assume I’ll be the last to know about anything from now on, but that’s ok. I don’t think I’d be able to cope with arranging anything. Her sister detests me, so I’m guessing that, should there be some sort of funeral, I’ll be strictly forbidden from attending. Public ceremonies aren’t really my cup of tea anyway, so I’ve started thinking about a way of saying goodbye on my own, maybe taking a trip somewhere we both visited together and laying some flowers. She liked flowers.

It's odd knowing she’s not around anymore. She cared a lot about so many things, and affected so many lives. The world just won’t be the same without her.

I hope she’s at peace now, as life always seemed so hard for her. She also missed her mother and grandfather, who both died over a decade ago. Her heart was always in the past, and her happiness was with people who were no longer here.

I hope she’s with them now, and finally happy.

Here's a picture of the two of us, I think taken around 2009ish. While I feature more prominently, I certainly didn't mean for it to be like that. It's cute though, right?

Death

 My ex passed away.

I don't know how i feel.

I guess I feel everything.

And nothing.

I don't know.

A nap too far

I think I eventually fell asleep around 4 am.

I then awoke an hour before my grocery delivery slot, turning off my alarm, which was set for half an hour later, as I did.

I then awoke once again an hour after my delivery slot.

Sigh.

Well, nobody tried to call my phone, even though the supermarket said they had. The “persistent knocking” was clearly not loud enough to wake me, which is odd, as I’m not a particularly heavy sleeper. Part of me wonders whether they just got the wrong building or something. That happens a lot around here. Or, just maybe, whatever it is that’s been getting me down lately is what made me sleep through the delivery. I feel such a fool, but I guess these things do happen. The driver will apparently try to redeliver sometime this afternoon, but I know neither when nor, erm, well, that’s kind of it. So I thought I’d type this as I wait, to placate my guilty conscience.

I’m also watching Isle of Dogs, part of my impromptu Wes Anderson season. His films form part of my “happy place”, that I go to when I’m extra depressed. I’ve also included into my happy place the lectures on ancient Egypt, the act of listening to which I now refer to as “a Bob Brier hug”. I don’t know why, but he just calms me down. I also just noticed that Wes Anderson’s The French Dispatch is now available to stream, so I’m tempted to watch it this afternoon, rather than wait any longer for the physical release. Perhaps I should just rent it. The film’s theatrical release was delayed interminably due to the pandemic, so I’m very keen to finally experience it.

Funnily enough, my neighbour “slept” through someone knocking on his door as well. I opened mine and inquired who the person knocking was after, just in case it was my delivery, but it was definitely for my neighbour. A while later, once I’d heard my neighbour return from one of his fifty trips in-and-out the building an hour, I knocked on his door and informed him that he’d missed the knocking. He said he’d done it on purpose, as he was avoiding the council repair people. Who knows why. My neighbour is cute, in a “rough trade” kind of way. I have elaborate sexual fantasies about him, which I guess is pretty sad. Or normal. I can’t tell anymore.

I didn’t end up recording any music last night, opting instead for staying in bed listening to my history lectures. I keep making notes of interesting phrases I hear as potential titles for instrumental tracks. Maybe some day I’ll actually get around to recording one of them.

Nobody else has been in touch today, but that’s no surprise. Is there something going on that I don’t know about? I fear soon I will utter the two saddest words in the English language:

“What party?!”

Anyway, I best go finish Isle of Dogs, so I’m not wasting electricity on keeping it paused.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The present in past tense

For whatever reason, I have felt moved to write another post only a day or so after the last. Perhaps it’s because my low mood persists, so I need to get stuff off my chest. I haven’t really got anything emotional to open up about, as my depression is medical-related, but just talking to someone about random events might help.

I didn’t go out to the pub today, as sort-of/sort-of-not planned. Instead, I ate a lot of junk food and had two major naps. Most of the day has been spent lying on my bed either watching sitcoms or listening to history lectures. I listened to a lot of the ancient Mesopotamia one today. I’ve got so many lectures on the go that relate to ancient Mediterranean civilisations that it’s fun to find them overlapping. It’s actually a good way of jogging your memory about what you’ve already learned. But, yes, I was very low energy today and just couldn’t face the outside world. Who knows how I’ll feel tomorrow.

Due to my two naps, I’m not entirely sure what time I’ll get to sleep tonight. I had a strong coffee and two caffeinated cola drinks around 8 pm, so goodness knows. Maybe I should set up some music recording tracks. You know, curfew-friendly ones that don’t involve making ambient noise to upset sleeping neighbours. As if anyone cares about that sorta stuff around here anyway.

I’m just updating my grocery shopping cart for tomorrow morning’s delivery. I just put in an order when I’ve ran out of milk, basically. I’ve added booze, although that’s more to make staggering back from the pub a lighter task. I’m pretty sure I’ll be going down to one at some point this week. If you can believe it, I still haven’t quite figured out the logistics of all the crap on my personal admin to do list. Whatever I decide to do, I need to do it quick, as rubbish is piling up in my kitchen. It seems I need an excuse to go past the wheelie bins downstairs, as I’m too shy/scared to do it just randomly.

What a life.

The route I take may go something like this: first taxi > drop off prescription > same taxi > pub > second taxi > guitar shop > third taxi > home. There’s a reason why disabled people get paid for, erm, being disabled. I’m using buses less and less since I noticed my eye condition had dropped another major step. I’ve lost a lot of confidence, and having to stay in due to the pandemic certainly hasn’t helped.

Actually, with the amount of alcohol I’ve just added to my order, I may just stay in and skip the whole week entirely. I’ll see how I feel.

I’m finding I’m not able to play the video game I usually play at the moment. If you’ve seen my YouTube channel, you’ll notice I play a lot of Rainbow Six: Siege, which is a multiplayer game. Sadly, even though it’s meant to be a team versus team game, your biggest enemies are often players on your own team, which has finally gotten to me this week. The cruelty that people show to one another is also upsetting. I know it’s just a game and none of it is real, but it still gets me down when people are unpleasant, sometimes for incredibly petty reasons. So, yeah, I think I’ll take a break from playing until I feel strong enough to head “back in”. If I’m hungover, then I definitely won’t be playing.

You find me here nearly at my most self-destructive. I’m sure, if I left it, I’ll be fine in a day or two but, like Sherlock Holmes, boredom and emotional fragility drives me to substance abuse. Then again, Sherlock Holmes isn’t actually real, so I probably shouldn’t use that as some sort of justification.

Sigh.

Nobody’s been in touch today at all, but I’m pretty sure I’m to blame for that. It’s just been me and ancient civilisations. And what have I learned? That people have been crappy to one another. For millennia.

Some things never change.

At least my boiler is fixed now. Did I mention that previously? So, yeah, my boiler stopped working which, considering I’ve started having baths (that require hot water form the boiler), was a bit of a problem. I had to have showers for a few days, which just reminded me to keep having baths. It’s a grim experience standing there under a dribble of lukewarm water. Never again. Unless I can’t help it. Thankfully, the repair people came out within a couple of days. It was the water pressure, apparently. They were gone within about half an hour. A nice pair of lads.

Oh, as well as non-fiction history books, I’ve started reading the novel “A God Against the Gods”, by Allen Drury, which is a novel about the whole Akhenaten heresy in ancient Egypt. I thought I was alone in finding that whole era fascinating, even going so far as to plan my own fictional work, but it seems that there’s an ocean of stuff out there about it.

It's always nice to find out your ideas are about as unique as yet another new celebrity panel quiz show.

Did that work? It felt like it did. Oh well.

Anyway, for what feels like a forgotten work (none of the reference resources I’ve looked at recommend it), the book is actually very well researched and written, so I’m looking forward to continuing. It’s written in first person, from different points of view, sort of like the film All About Eve. Only a book. Erm… so yeah.

Righty, folks, I think I’ve ran out of things to say, and I didn’t have much to say in the first place. I’ll try and update you asap on my emotional rollercoaster. If I do get blind stinking drunk tomorrow, don’t expect another post for about a week. You probably get the drill by now anyway.

Good times.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The bitch is back

When you’re in the moment, bad times, as well as good, seem like they will last forever. But, with hindsight, fortune undulates quite significantly. As do people. We are, by nature, neither wholly good, nor bad. We are just fragile entities fighting against the pain of existence.

Poetic, huh?

I’m in a sombre mood today, so all my creativity is spilling out rather uncontrollably. I could do with this during the week, when I actually have time to be creative. Well, I have time now but, well, my bath is running. Anyway, I think being shut in with the flu for a couple of weeks has left me suffering from rather severe cabin fever, so I’m seriously considering popping out to the pub tomorrow. I did get stinking drunk at home the other day, but when do I not?! Even when the major symptoms of the flu had subsided, I was left feeling weak and battle-scarred, so a trip out was rather unappealing to me. Maybe I should do Monday instead. I keep feeling as though I have an appointment for something coming up, but I don’t. Yeah, I may wait till Monday. I need to post my repeat prescription too, so I’ll do that on the way down.

Mother called the other day. It was an odd conversation. While I’ve never truly seen her as one who is fully “all there”, she is now definitely losing her marbles. She must be the only person in their 70s to not enjoy talking to people, especially their children. I think we spoke for all of five minutes until I was summarily dismissed. She. Called. Me. Anyway, she repeated herself multiple times and never seemed completely sure who she was talking to, so whatever. Oh well, it happens to the best of us. She’s never been the warmest person in the world, bringing to mind Leonard’s mother in The Big Bang Theory (played by the fabulous Christine Baranski, no less), so this new decent into deeper detachment makes me want to be in touch even less. I keep expecting a “Mum’s died” text from my brother. It’ll come any day now, I’m sure.

Believe me, she is not a nice person, with whom I share a worrying amount of things in common. Sigh.

Oh I snapped and bought yet another new guitar the other day. Fender have released a whole new model called the “Meteora”. It’s sort of like a Jazzmaster, but the offset body is more pronounced. In fact, it’s more like an upside-down Gibson Explorer. It ticked many boxes of guitars I was planning on getting, so I just couldn’t resist it. I’m very pleased with it indeed, and haven’t regretted the purchase one bit.

Speaking of guitars, the one I booked in for repair the day I had that bad fall is now ready for collection, so maybe… oh… wait… maybe I should fit that into my pub day. Or something. Ok, now I’m confused. I’ll have to rethink everything now. Sigh. Why is life so complicated?!

There’s a surprising amount of admin involved in just wanting to get drunk and play guitar.

There’s still been no word form my guitar guru, but I’m leaving that in his hands. I’ve deleted his mobile number, along with my gaming buddy’s, so I don’t bother either of them when I’m having episodes of extreme depression/consumption. Unless I get post a message on their YouTube channels, of course.

I’m in sporadic touch with the ex-girlfriend of my ex-girlfriend’s friend. She’s really sweet, although we don’t have a great deal in common. I think she’s as ditsy as me, so her friendship is quite comforting. At least someone doesn’t know me well enough to want to stay away.

My thumb seems to have almost entirely healed now. I can feel a little scarring or flaky skin, but the pain has gone completely. Basically, I don’t have to worry about catching it on something now, and I’m totally back on the guitar practice wagon.

I’ve decided to stop watching Modern Family at last. To give it some credit, it didn’t start getting bad until Season 8, when the actors started looking like well-paid Hollywood TV stars, rather than their characters. Plus storylines started being repeated, which is a big no-no. Ty Burrell, who I didn’t like at first, seemed to be the only one keeping it together by the end. I’d love to see him in more stuff. The show had “a good innings” though, as they say. Twice as long as my usual sitcom series quality cap of four seasons. Kudos to the producers for keeping it tight for as long as they did.

I finally managed to masturbate the other day. I’m still not feeling terribly amorous, but I thought it’d be good for my health. I may try again today, in the hope that it will chill me out a bit. I really could do with a shag (yes, British people do actually say “shag” unironically). I even went so far as to download Grindr yesterday, although I’ve still not set up a profile. My phone was being weird. Perhaps, if I get a profile all ready by the time I head out to the pub, I can have a nice romantic encounter with a stranger in the toilets. Bless.

Right, on that graphic note, I think I shall bid you adieu. I have history books to read and Arrested Development to have playing in the background as I do so.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

P.S. The title of my last post is meant to be the Latin for “limp man”. I was dubious at first, but the ridiculously long translation of the word “limp” sold me on it.

P.P.S Don’t worry, I had my bath halfway through writing this, so it hasn’t overflowed or anything.

Homo claudicationem

My illness is still lingering, which I’m now pretty sure is the flu. It feels too nose/snot-related to be, erm, the other thing. Still, I’m staying indoors and trying not to move about much, mainly because I can’t do much else. I definitely feel worse in the mornings, such as now as I type, but the evenings make me feel a pinch of positivity.

My lips are hurting today, but that may have more to do with the ambient temperature than whatever-it-is that has befallen my frail, but still bootylicious, body. It did finally snow the other day, but it was shockingly all rained away by sundown. Speaking of which, I think the clocks have gone forward, so that means I don’t have a pub curfew anymore. Well, once I’m strong enough to venture out to the pub, that is. I did actually get super-drunk at home on Tuesday, which made me feel a hell of a lot better. Well, until the next morning, of course. I started drinking so early that I ordered a Chinese takeaway delivery at lunchtime, which always feels weird to do. Takeaways just seem like an evening thing. I’ve done the same in the past, and always expect the delivery person to be all like “Dude, what is up with your life?!”. Hopefully, the sight of the council estate where I live should explain it al to them. Anyway, the hangover was over by the end of Wednesday, but I can hardly tell the difference. I’ve ordered some flu medicine with my shopping (that should arrive in an hour or so), so fingers-crossed that helps a little.

I’ve just realised I haven’t masturbated in almost a week, which I put down to my illness. It’s hard to feel sexual when you’re blowing your nose and coughing. Good times. I’ll probably break a window when I finally get round to it. There must be quite a build-up down there.

Aren’t you glad you visit here?

My old gaming buddy seems to be quietening off again, if that’s at all possible, so I’ve decided to delete him from my contacts. For his benefit, really, as I don’t want to pester anyone. Plus, if I do get drunk again soon, I’ll probably send a petulant text whinging about not getting enough attention. I don’t wanna be THAT person.

There’s been no word from my guitar guru either, so it’s pretty quiet around here.

The pigeons swoop down to my balcony every day for a chat though.

Sweet Jesus, has it come to that?

Did I mention they’d sorted the flooding problem out? That was February, so I must have. But, yes, they built a scaffold up to next door’s balcony to remove the collection of junk they’d thrown out there, thus unblocking the communal drain, thus stopping my balcony flooding, thus stopping the leak into downstairs, thus me not getting assholes knocking on my door about it anymore.

For someone who’s unemployed and has no friends and rarely speaks to their family, I just can’t seem to get a minute’s peace around here. Renting a council flat is nearly a full time job.

Slight exaggeration there, but you know what I mean.

Oh, actually, I forgot to mention that, on top of the flu, I managed to split my thumb open about a week ago. I was searching through my miscellaneous cutlery drawer for a spatula and discovered, the hard way, that my vegetable peeler is razor sharp. I was in the middle of doing, like, four things at once in the kitchen too, so I really could have done without my hand pouring blood at the same time. It seems obvious, but you’d be amazed how much primates use their opposable thumbs that set them apart from every other species on the planet. You really do miss one when you’re desperately avoiding contact with it. The biggest issue with this injury has been playing guitar. You don’t use your left thumb to hold down strings much (maybe the bass E now and then), but you do put a lot of pressure on it whilst pressing down with your other fingers, therefore I was unable to play for days. But, hey, what with the flu and all, I wasn’t in much of a mood to do so anyway.

I’m in a bit of a state.

Luckily, a misanthropic shut-in like myself still has the internet to vaguely keep them company. I went through and added to my library all the history lectures that are free with membership to Audible, so I’ve got those to work on (should my illness linger). Plus video games and movies blah blah blah. You know the drill.

I’m still enjoying Modern Family, although it’s definitely gotten a bit creaky. The thing with Phil and the ducks was just weird, and I’m surprised the writers of Friends didn’t sue. I got the feeling that even the actors were baffled by it all. The ducks are gone now though, so we’re moving on.

Is it just me, or does Phil only show houses for sale on his own street?! You’d think there’d be a broader scope of properties in the vast Los Angeles area, for goodness sake.

Well, I think I’m done here, folks. I just thought I’d drop a few words to lessen my sense of isolation. It’s not too fun being alone when you’re ill. Now I know why Dracula was such a cranky bastard. Is? I don’t know, I never finished the book.

Anyway, I best go listen out for the supermarket delivery person. I hope they send a cute boy today, just to brighten my mood. Wish me luck!

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!