Have you got any more cartridges?

So aye the Friday vibe. Maybe 'you lot' start to get excited at the prospect of the weekend and of cuddling up tae yer 'other half' with the increasingly ever present 'nice bottle of wine' on Fri night, of traipsing through BHS and going to Mamma Mia's Pizzeria on Saturday followed by Garden Centres , Afternoon Jam sessions at Twattinnas and dropping off in front of 'Family Fortunes' on the Sun. Aye you nubiles, you've never had it so good. Us lumpy ones have far fewer patterns to follow. This particular leaden pall tends to work at the weekend so Dobbies, Lambrini and Joe's Band don't get much of a look in. I don't get the 'cuddles' (I fucking hate the use of the word in that context. Go log on to a dating site if you want to see what I mean) that you get as a given either. I have to put up with 'ma ain company' in all it's cadaverous form. ...Ma mind's digressing. If only the horticultural chain of Sunday torpour was named after Captain Dobey instead? Well that would be different. Come and have a weekend in Cowdengelly with Bernie Hamilton. I would like that. In fact that'll be the concept for my next serious on UK Living. McLuckie and his Massive Belly spend time in shite Fife towns with obscure/long lost celebs. How 'bout a few jars of Sweetheart Stout in 'Clem's' wi' Kim Mayzelle/ A white pudding supper at Toby's Fish Bar, Thornton with Carl Lumbly or Macaroni Cheese at The Lister, Chinatoon wi' Patricia Brake. Anyway, what am I trying to say? Not quite sure....I think I'm aware that the weekend maybe holds a fair bit o' oomph if you've got some one tae spend it wi' but a guid bit less so if you don't or is that just me being an erse again? I'm reeling into schtick territory certainly. I am off this weekend but impending financial meltdoon may begin to restrict ma 'social life' or the amoont o' fillims I go to/ pizzas I buy and so forth. Looked at my bank a/c yesterday and realised what I had to pay out in d/d's for the rest of the month. It's not looking good. I'm going to have to borrow from somebody or attempt to gain more credit. Yes, I know it's stupidity. I phoned the debt counsellor yesterday but I'm not seeing her until next Fri. I paid off the overdue amount owing on a telly that I bought a while back. This has stopped the 0870 calls. The 0800 calls continue apace. Most of my credit cards are registered at another address- the last pliss I stayed in Kirkcaldy. I didn't do this in a 'crimes of dishonesty' way. I just couldn't be bothered changing them over. Don't think they've got my phone number and the redirection I had on ma mail has just expired. I'm not going to answer the phone without 'taking advice' so I won't hear from them 'til the counsellor makes contact to plead for a rejig o' the payments unless they send the heavy squad to the door. I should not jest. Think the 0800 no. is probably ma old bank. I had a loan with them which is not getting paid. I had one o' their credit cards too as well as an overdrawn amount on ma a/c. No wonder they're chasing me. I owe them most of the 50 G's. Shit. I've suddenly started giggling. I feel a bit like a confidence trickster writing this all down. Call me the Paul Bint of Gorgie/Dalry. I've never intended to defraud anyone or con cash out of them. I've just been rather 'irresponsible' wi' my financial affairs!! (no shit..)... Cannae mind a lot about last night. Left Maisie's and ended up in the shithole. Gorged on fatty foods late at night as ever and then watched mair of 'The Last Picture Show'. It was great ie the latter if not the former tho' in all honesty the former had something going for it too. Crashed out early. Had a lengthy sleep but still felt shattered. The weather was awful early on. Very cold. Wet. Raw and damp. This did not help ma mood. There was a total change round about 2-ish and it genuinely did get 'Bryter Layter'. This connection cheered me until I remembered that TLK likes Nick Drake too. I can mind discussing the BL LP at length with her. Whenever I spoke with her about ND I would end up feeling as if I was deeply deeply in love with her. It was a nice buzz for a while. This connection weirded me out. Of course 5 mins after this TLK visited the office. She seemed cheery again. She came down to return a works phone she had lifted by mistake. She brought it in and said " There's your fucking phone". It was a joke but I didn't laugh. Spoke with her re a wee gaffe I'd just made. The cheeryness ebbed slightly. She seemed to be forcing hersel to smile. She went off. She said cheerio. I didn't reply. She came back with something and said cheerio again. I didn't reply this time either. Maybe not that cool but I didn't appear to be able to bring myself to do it. I'd thought earlier re txting her about some news frae the work. I didn't do it. It seemed too 'friendly'. I didn't know what mode she would have been in when she took the txt. This fucked with my head. It might have been seen as me 'trying to be friendly'. I didn't want to come across as that. I know that she wouldn't have thought to tell me about it but she would have told KS. I thought better of it and didn't bother telling her. She'll find out soon enough. This exchange got me down again. I'm so angry at her but at the same time I would jump at the chance to spend time with her and chat even tho' that would mess me up even more. What does she think about me? Does she think about me at all? Does she think like how I've described? or is she genuine/consistent after all? I find it impossible to tell. I don't know how to read her. I'm sure many folk over the years have been described as 'complex'. IMO there is 'complex' and then there is TLK but of course I'm probably wrong..am I? FUCK...Work was quiet today. Dull. I was lethargic. Couldn't get into it. After I left it seemed wrong to be experiencing sunshine and warmth. I'll bet the more normal of you nubiles are getting the 'barbies' out as I write this. I really envy normal folk. That's not a joke. At the start of my 3 days off I'm thinking about being somewhere other than here and of being someone else. That would be nice. Or at least I think it would.

Thee Headcoatees

I'll start as I mean to go on...There are times when I feel that there's not much more I can get out of life. My collection of impulses and responses do not produce zest in anyone and my physical make up appears to have the composition of the 'thing' in Eraserhead ie It's not quite apparent what I am. A growed up sexual animal is not what I am, that's for certain. Because of my life long lack of 'action' (thanks TLK) part of me does not feel human. This is a shallow and vacuous thing to say, I'm aware of that but it is a thought I've harboured for some time. Some of the citizens of the world that you meet are not 'pretty' but without fail I reckon that 'they' are all 'getting a lumber' and they are all attractive/desirable and so forth to a few. When I get down I start to feel that I haven't been 'invited' and that the the world is a stag's only club. These and other thoughts surrounded and bewildered me when I left the land o' the Interweb last night. Couldn't handle being alone. Didn't know what to do. Had the torrent of thoughts back. The T.O.T is a 'thing' of mine. When I'm ill I have this feeling of being assaulted by thoughts which fly at me faster than I imagined I could ever manage to think. They are all negative. Most (level one) tell me that I can't do one thing or the other and that I'll never amount to anything etc etc. Some of the thoughts pick up on aspects of an act, pick out the damaging, dangerous and illegal therein and attempt to batter me into submission with the consequences and the details of these (level 2) eg I once heard on the news that someone had been raped and killed. Soon after I read this I started getting this stream of shit that said 'You did it. You know you did. You want to do it again' . As soon as I had got myself away from this stream and realised that ...eh...no I didn't...the head moved on regardless to pointing out the consequences of doing it (level 3). For days and days I thought I was going to jail, I would be villified, I would be hounded. Over the years since I first had this type of feeling, I've had countless episodes. It seems to be brought on by thinking about things which I abhor the most or am most afraid of. I convince myself that I've done wicked horrendous acts or that I am about to be 'found out' for all manner of things, fuck knows what. I genuinely felt at first that I was hearing a voice of some kind. The thoughts came so quickly and established themselves so strongly that it seemed as if they were coming from outside me. Surely I wouldn't bring this on myself, would I? I was convinced that I had a serious illness. Everyone played the thoughts down when I spoke about them. This de-escalation/ lack of positive re-inforcement (fucking hell) often seemed to work and I've gradually managed to keep them down and at bay. I still get anxious but the last major episode I had of this was just before I moved to Edinburgh a year ago. I was convinced that I was going to attack people in the street, push them downstairs, throw objects at them etc. It seemed so real. I couldn't even consider that I wouldn't do it. Whenever I told masel that I knew I wouldn't do anything, I got the follow on thoughts re what jail would be like and 'how long I would get inside'. When I have this, it is the most frightening thing I've experienced. Maybe I am strong after all. When I think of the amount of situations in which I've probably come across as 'normal' and as if I'm 'getting on with things' when inside I am in fact fixated on how I'm about to strangle someone or how I'm going to do something 'erratic/crazy/damaging etc etc. Maybe you wouldn't have known anything was wrong but I can assure you that I felt completely messed up whenever I had this. It seemed as if my brain was using 99% capacity on nourishing/ fighting these thoughts and that I was doing work tasks/ functioning/ living on the other 1%. These days I put it down to living in Fife. That place just defeated me. I had so many feelings of negativity and horror re what it 'meant' to be a Fifer and to live there. The thoughts pretty much aren't there anymore. They made a minor re-appearance last night but only for a short time. I know it wasn't the full blown warfare like I've had in the past. Whenever I've seen a GP or a CPN or a shrink, they put it down to a manifestation of anxiety. At the time I first got them I was convinced I was a schizophrenic and that I was dying. I know now that neither were the case. I think the health folk were probably right re the source being anxiety. My mind got so wound up with dealing with day to day situations that it ran amok and took over. My mum once told me that she had similar problems when I was young. She couldn't go into a cutlery drawer because she started thinking that she was about to pull out a knife and stab someone. I remember talking about the thoughts with KB. One of the best rebuttals I've heard was when I told him that I was sitting there convinced that I was about to attack someone and carry out acts of violence. He said that I was 'messing with cause and effect'. This helped to give me some clarity and convince myself that I probably wasn't going to do anything after all. Maybe these days I'm less anxious. I can handle stuff more. Not sure what helped me to achieve this but getting away from the massive inferiority complex I had built up around being a failure in Fife helped big time. Sorry for another lengthy detour. Felt as if I needed to explain certain things. I understand some of the 6 and a half of you who read this might well dash off and call the police now but hell...so to come back to last nights 'reality'...the T.O.T was mostly about the aforementioned attractiveness and my lack of it...it was scale one T.O.T and it left quickly...to be replaced by more conventional but still damaging dwelling on the TLK situ. Felt truly alone. I also felt annoyed at TLK for what I perceived as her moodiness and her 'ways' but also desperately wanted to be with her. I would like to think that being with anyone would have sufficed tho'. Trudged through the rain wi' holes in both ma boots (ha..there's always been a Marcel Marceau element to ma schtick) in amongst a somewhat nondescript part o' town. It was oddly apt that I should end up in a Summerfield store. Restored a semblance of equilibrium when I noticed that Lars Von Trier appeared to be working at the deli counter. This did provide a waft of cheer, reinforced when I walked hame wi' ma nutritionally balanced (all junk...natch) bag of shopping and overheard a paroxided lass talking on a phone outside a grog hoose near the shithole. She was barking into her moby. She snapped "aye, I can go aw day on that Gin and Tonic. You should ken that". Another snippet of genius frae the Gorgie/Dalry vaults. I got hame and pissed about for a bit. Watched the start of 'The Last Picture Show'. Think I'm the only person in the world who's never seen this. It certainly starts well. Slept rather edgily. Constant feelings of there being an odd light in the room. Thought I heard the phone going in the middle of the night. I remember thinking that it was a sign of the financial service police being about to break down the door and 'find me out' (see above). In the morning I realised that it had in fact been KB phoning in case I was up which I usually am. It does appear that paranoia kicks in from time to time...woke up on Thursday mornin'. Felt totally shattered. Didn't want to go into work. Made myself get moving. Into the shower and off. The closer I got to the work, the more paranoid and irrational I began to feel. I knew TLK was supposed to be in with me first thing. I was 15 or so mins late. She wasn't there. Something snapped inside. I was totally convinced that she was doing it on purpose, that she was late just cause she didn't want to be alone with me and to 'have to' talk to me. I really did lose it for a while. I spoke out loud to myself. I started thinking that she was doing the 'avoidance' thing that is familiar to us anxious folk. I remembered how often I had done that when I couldn't face certain situs and people. It felt really horrid now that, in my mind, I was on the 'receiving end'. I rambled away. 'I know how she works. She's doing it on purpose.' As soon as I said this the key turned in the lock. She came in. I regained my composure. The blonde bits in her hair had gone already. She was happy. She asked me how I was. I grunted a bit. She didn't want an honest answer anyway, I know that. Nobody does when they ask that question. She seemed on good form. I opened up a wee bit. The tone got friendlier. She comes across as the loveliest person on earth when she's like this. Shit man, I have never seen anything like her smile...it APPEARS to be pure distilled warmth. It's a heady, giddy sight for me. Of course like yesterday whenever she comes across as if she's yer pal, I respond likewise. This is always...imo... where it starts to go wrong with her and me. We both went off and saw some clients. I bumped into her on the stairs. She was coming down. I hadn't seen her. She went 'BOO' as she appeared round the corner. She was bright and beaming from ear to ear. It was a special sight for me. I saw her later. Right away I resumed in pally mode. This was clearly the wrong thing to do. She didn't react to much I said. Later she got very 'directive' re a work matter. She snapped at me when I was trying to find some info for her. I couldn't take it. I stopped talking. I threw a piece of paper onto the desk. She said "What's up? You look in distress". I laughed. I snapped back "nothing". I was fucking gone again. I didn't talk to her outside of essential work stuff for the rest of the day. I couldn't. She's always had a manner while doing some work stuff that irks me. The strong personality comes into play at these times. I know that she believes she can do the job better than me and doesn't like me doing anything she could do herself. She has to take charge and she does. There were a few examples of manoeuvering today and I didn't like them. I've always hated this feeling. I've experienced it from a few folk, some at work and some neebors too. They can't handle the feeling of you maybe doing something that might in some way be seen as 'representing' their efforts or their work. They have to take charge and they make it obvious. I get totally flummoxed by this. I am not a big/strong personality and I cave in at these times, like I did today. The folk who do this are of course fully aware that I will collapse. I always present as helpless when this goes down. I'll make self- deprecating comments which sound as if I'm reinforcing or agreeing with what they're doing too. I couldn't take what she was doing. I felt devalued. She's been desperate to take over some work I've been doing and she did it today. I feel right now as if I can't work with her anymore. The stress of seeing her every day and having to communicate with her through various moods is too much. Again I'm not always that brilliant at dealing with peoples moods or with folk who can't cover up the way they're feeling that well. TLK, being a strong steely character, becomes distant and impossible when she's hacked off and that gets put across to you or at least it does to me. I'm hyper aware of it. It doesn't seem as if she's quite as abrupt with others, it really doesn't. She used to say that she noticed my own moods and got worried that I was annoyed at her. I have to say that I didn't believe she was worried at the time and I still don't now. She may have noticed my mood being down but she probably wasn't thinking about it all. Back then it maybe suited her to show or project that she cared or something like that. I wish I could be honest with her but I'm not going to tell her how I feel. It would cause a lot of mental strife for me. She would play the dead bat like she did the day I told her I was annoyed with her when I stormed out. Me making those comments has clearly effectively ended any suggestion of us being pals. She has cut me off in her own way. I didn't expect anything different to be honest. I think I know her pretty well...maybe I'm delusional. I believe that she doesn't 'do' self reflection. She doesn't want to consider anything which she thinks might be 'heavy' or fall into categories such as that. But I also knew she would never directly address this with me or tell me how she felt. Maybe she never valued me as anything at all which is in hindsight probably the case but ultimately I think it's just her being her. She can't or doesn't want to face 'hassle' and so she passes her feelings on to you by some bits of action but mostly by implication while maintaining a veneer of a status quo. I don't like that. I know that by writing all this I risk coming across as obsessed or a lunatic. I don't believe I'm the former. I might be the latter. I also know I'm not an arsehole. I've done some daft things in every friendship I've had and every situ I've been in but I hope I've not hurt folk. If I did then it was unintentional and was out of pure stupidity or confusion. I've been thinking re how she would feel if she ever read this blog. She would probably be annoyed. She might well think I'm freaky or mad. She might well call the police. Don't think she would be 'hurt' as such. You might not think TLK exists but she does. She lives and breathes. I probably paint a bad picture of her. I try to present what I think is an honest picture of everyone I write about in here. I believe I come across worse. I'm the one who's wasting my time endlessly dwelling on her, who's thinking of situations over and over and getting messed up by them. KB often says that I jump to conclusions (always negative ones) re how a person's feeling on a certain situation. He's mentioned that I've always tended to fear the worst about TLK. This is maybe true. All this ie my idea of what she makes of me etc etc might be in my head, it really might. The truth is probably somewhere between the two. I feel so many different emotions from every wee encounter with her. I think she's an amazing human being. I can honestly say that I find her almost impossible to read. I have categorised her as every single 'type' of person at one time. She doesn't fit in anywhere. My feelings about her change by the minute. She's exciting to be around. She's also utterly exhausting not because she's manic or outwardly erratic but because I don't know where I stand with her and I have the feeling at times that she's playing me like a fiddle. I'm not sure whether she struggles with her emotions and/or her 'nerves' or not. Sometimes it feels clear to me that she does. I've seen her get very upset and emotional but other times she seems so detached that I can't imagine her allowing herself to go there. I know there have been times when she has got embarassed and upset when she thinks she has maybe given too much away about her life and her past. This could just be an indicator that she doesn't feel right telling me about these things. I can only go by what I've seen and how I reckon she's acted towards me. From what I've seen she controls as many aspects of her life as she can and she doesn't go into any 'emotional' areas if she can possibly help it. She's good at getting certain things she wants. She is possibly the strongest person I've met. She comes across to me as being in control at all times. I tend to believe that she comes across as that because she is! Increasingly I reckon she shows you nothing more than what she wants to. I struggle when I feel folk put on as controlled an act as she maybe does. Every one puts on an act of some kind. That's how we survive. Nobody truly knows how someone else thinks either. I put on a different kind of act from her. Why am I still thinking about her? Well because I can't seem to stop, because she is the type of person who gets inside you, because I see her day to day, because I 'love' her I suppose or at least because I fancy her if you want to be crass, because she is everything at all times, because she's a whirlwind, but mostly because I'm a daft bloke who happens to like 'her type' and who is predisposed to thinking about something rather than nothing...We're both 'flawed' but then again we are human beings...shit...
So oddly enough after a Stelios flirtation I'm back at Maisie's. CS is here. She's still great. On the way here I saw at least 3 couples who consisted of very tall guys and wee lasses (I'm 6 foot 3. TLK is barely 5 foot). This was a truly funny thing to have witnessed at this time. I started thinking about my horoscope (it has indeed come to this) in The Metro today...and I quote..' At the very root of your personality, some change is afoot which will alter your daily routine. Whether this means you move house or storm out of your job depends on how the next few days pan out' ..freaky, huh? How do I feel right now? Tired, messed up, poor, fat, desperate, uncertain?...aw these...still thinking about 'the bridge'...it seems like a welcoming place but of course it isn't...

No More Hospitality, No More Hospitals At All

So it's Wed. I'm in a different part of the land of the Interweb from the one I'm normally in. Don't know why I've temporarily abandoned old Maisie Mossco. I like going there. It's a wee rough and ready place with nice coffee and some invasive pot plants. Blokes come in and play online poker for hours and hours. They only have a few records which they play on a loop- they have a Supergrass record which I think is great. Maybe I should keep that to masel. Chloe Sevigny works there too. However it's also way way expensive and their stereo plays way way too much Jamiroquai. Not that any amount of that wee shites music is acceptable but anyway. I've jumped ship to the kingdom of Wunder Stelios. These Easy Everything plisses have relatively cheap access to the Interweb but have nae 'soul' or atmosphere tae them at all. It feels as if you're in a cheap office trying to sell Timeshare appartments to retired folk frae Sleaford. I miss the opperchancity to turn round and see CS looking dreamily out the window or of observing the Simon Whitlock man in full flight shouting at his 'sheila' over the phone. In 'ere you sit in rows like you're about to lay an egg and try not to look at anyone sitting near to you. The ends of the rows are always the most popular..GET AWAY FROM THE HUMAN RACE..I mean I have spent most o' ma life in a solitary funk but these days I don't like being reminded that we live in a world where 'double seat double seat gotta gotta get a double seat' is the name of the game...fucking Ben Elton. Bring him on, I'll tell him a few things he'll never forget...so last year last night...spent a long time after leaving the house of Haji-Ioannoua meandering and being aware that I was truly desperate to speak to someone who knows me, who understands, who wants to listen. I was also intermittently desperate to jump off the Forth Road Bridge but I appear to still be here. Couldn't think of anyone who would be around. Started to get mad at myself for being a total asshole with regards to almost every aspect of ma life. I would like to say that it seemed bizarre to be in this situ but as I've probably said before I knew I would land in the shit some day. I've only been papering over the cracks for 35 years. This certainty does not provide any succour to my situ. I literally could not stop thinking about TLK. Every minute I thought differently about her and I thought of another aspect to her. The grandeur kicked in again. I will write about her and folk will read it. She will read it. She will understand me at last. I will let her see the blog. That'll show her. The time went by slowly. Sat up late and watched the rest of 'Interiors', one o' the few 'serious' Woody Allen films. I can't recommend it enough. Can't understand why he's made hardly any movies like this. It's rather Bergman but it's rather great. As I said yesterday, the matriarch character was surely written with Ma McLuckie in mind. I ken it's about an upper middle class academic family but there's so much more to it than being a stab at 'at home with the Ignatieffs'. I think you should all see it. The Geraldine Page role seemed eerily pertinent to ma ain experience of maternal strife. Earlier in the day I had read a horoscope for Capricorn in a crappy magazine at the work. This was scary too. It went on about 'the need to make a fresh start' and shit like that. Yon air of dislocation piled in again. This wasn't all happening. I was reading about a fat unfortunate. Maybe his torso had been found in a suitcase like the poor bastard who was discovered at The Shore in Leith a few years back. Micky Buerk would intone as to how he was nothing but a 'lone madman' similar to somebody who slashes MP's with swords. Last night wasnae much fun. Look folks, being on yer ain when you don't want to be is shite and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. I was hellish lonely. I also couldn't face the prospect of continuing to see TLK everyday. Her ways and the way I react to them are both bad news for me. I just wish she would tell me to fuck off and not put this half-cheeryness on display. She has massive reserves of strength. She can switch off anything. If she don't want to think about you, she won't. This should not bother me but it still does. ...I made it through the night. Seriously considered pulling a sickie today but got in half an hour late. Was deflated, knackered. Was also unwashed due to havin' nae time for a shower before leaving. This affected ma mood tae. Was grotty and felt accordingly. TLK came in at 12. Mair 'friendlyness'. She'd put blonde bits in her hair. She's done this before. They really don't suit her. Her hair had went stringy at the back and she commented on this. "How does it look?", she asked. I wanted to say how much I love her ginger hair, particularly when it's wild and all over the pliss but of course I would have been arrested if I'd said that. I said that I thought it clearly looked different from her normal colour. She considered this a normal reaction or at least I think she did. I realise now how much she keeps things hidden. She might have been thinking anything or she might have been thinking nothing at all. Who knows? There's a chance that she don't know either. She was pretty chatty at first. The rserve came in later when she returned to the office and I was there past my time. She thought I was hanging around to chat to her like I used to. A good few wee comments were made re 'why are you still here?' She disappeared through to the howf, put the telly on and SHUT THE DOOR. This isn't really a normal thing to do in the office. I went in and said cheerio. I was cheery in a plastic way. So was she. I went home again. Started to feel shit again. Had the phone turned off all day due to the financial services calls. This fact made me sadder. I felt annoyed at TLK. I also missed her right away. I missed what I wanted her to be, not what she really is. I know that now. I'm still so attracted to her. I have never met anyone who I have felt like this about. It''s a very odd situation..ha... It's dawning on me that I cannot handle seeing her every day. It's destroying me. I get caught up on questions of whether I've been honest with her, of whether I've been straight with her. I know that I've been bewildered by my feelings for her for a long time- I've known her a year to the day now- I didn't know what to do with my feelings. I didn't expect to feel like this about anyone in ma life. I still don't know what to do. Can't help but feel she thinks I'm 'heavy', I'm 'a downer'. I don't like folk feeling this about me even if I am these things. That's a character defect in itself. I associated TLK with being the only 'pal' or acquaintance I've made since I moved to the big city. She was, and is good company. I miss that. I miss being with her. She drives me nuts but I miss her. She don't feel that way about me. Even if she ever did she won't let on. I still find masel going over and over thae ideas of what she made of me. Did she really think I was a pal? I hope she did but in reality I wasn't. She's a huge mystery to me. I still want to get to the bottom of how she ticks. I'm going to have to leave this to ma shitty imagination..TLK turned to debt in ma mind. I'd phoned the counsellor on Mon to reschedule. Made a guddle of taking her call. I'll phone again the morn. She's not in on Tue and Wed. I paid a coupla things yesterday. The phone calls continued. I owe a removal firm £500. They have a load of ma stuff. I'm thinking mostly of this, for some reason. I want to see them tea towels again. Godamnit. Fucking hell...Got an interview with an agency for care workers on Mon. Will have to take shifts if they're offered. Also got an application ready for relief work wi another mental health and learning disability service provider. There appears to be no permanent jobs of this kind on the go the now. It ain't good. Maybe I'll end up in Tesco's Skid Row branch. While I've been typing this, I've gotten way way down. 'A couple' are next to me. I'm envious of their intimacy, their liking for each other, their mutual ease of being. These are aspects of living I've never known. I don't think I'll ever ken about them either...

Patterson Thompson

Not sure I can recall much o' Tue night and Wed. I might move 'off message' (ha) and state that imo they merged into a soggy, saggy mess o' ma ain misery and boredom and loneliness and goddamn laziness...that would probably be a fair thing to say tho' I feel self conscious about saying that AGAIN. It seems that I'm trying to distance masel from ma ain thoughts now. I can guess that I left the house intending to 'wander' in a dramatic blowsy style on a few occasions and I know that I would have just came back to the shithole when I couldn't be bothered going further than the nearest foodie place. One thing I can mind about Tues night was KB phoning. I think he has psychic abilities. I was starting to dwell hard on the A-W rejection!!!!....fucking hell...you HAVE to allow me a few of 'them' there...but KB phoned without having read the blog and I was able to speak about it to the extent that a chunk o' perspective returned. Aye I liked her but I only knew her for a short time. I was daft to feel that she might possibly have 'liked' me. That was way too quick. I had quickly fallen into the old 'I am completely unattractive and I will never 'gan oot wi' a berd' ways. To me this feeling isn't delusional. It has become HARD FACT in ma heid. I've just had too much of a similar vibe when I've entered into these areas wi lasses. I know that I'm going to have to learn to get used to the solitary man thing. There are times when it seems off kilter romantic and appealing but these times are rare....anyway, to be honest with you folks I've felt wrong this week. All over the pliss. Debt's been on ma mind to a nastily intense level but I can't face doing anything about it. Facing up to it would mean cutting back and not being able to waste money. This has become an act that has defined me for some time now. There are very few things that I would readily admit to being 'good' at. Wasting money/time/ma ain resources (that can take many forms...make of that statement what you will) are undoubtedly some of them. In terms of money frittering, well I've found a lot of ways to do that eg gorging on junk food, using the Interweb outside when I pay for access in here, taking taxis to the other side of the town, being unable to resist temptation and generally living 'outside my means'. That's where most of the cash for the 'consolidation' loan went. Basically I pissed it away. Since TLK came on the scene I must have spent a fair whack on grog as well. At least I'm working on that, he says rather desperately. Making a conscious effort to avoid liquor. In a strange detour I had a drink on Tues night tho'. There was a tin o' Stella sitting in the fridge. It had been there since before Xmas. The night time's the right time to 'pull your shoulder out of it's socket and to ride on the rocket' etc. For me it's also the right time to feast on junk food. I'd eaten a large amount of stodge but forgot to buy any liquids. I had a raging thirst. The tap water in the shithole is undrinkable so I was looking at this tin for some time thinking how cold it would be. I thought fuck it and drank it quickly like a tin o' fizzy juice. Weird. It didn't feel at all as if I was drinking grog. I've been in bars a few times since then and stayed on the soft stuff. Internally I know I didn't see it as 'cheating' and I still ken that I do want to gie up the grog. I would like to think I'm going to manage this pretty well. It'll probably be another method for distancing masel frae TLK tae. I'm pretty certain she saw me as nowt mair than a drinking buddy and at times just wanted someone to accompany her into pubs. As much as 99% of me wants to phone her every part of the day and spend time with her (a slightly romanticised notion) but the 1% has to take over and work on methods for distance. These thoughts make ma heart sink but I just have to do them for the sake of ma sanity. I had started to think that just because I had 'fallen out with her' (that indicates a feeling that we were pals at one time. I know that TLK in her composed and contained way will never outwardly refer to us as being pals now) then I would feel differently about her. Last week has shown me that that is utter crap. I'm going to feel like this about her for a considerable period of time and I have to deal with it. It's as easy as that...Aye I'm a wasteful person with money. I like having the power to fritter. It's always appealed to me. I was 'oan the seek' (years of madness in Templehall) for years and had nae cash. Ever since I've been 'Fit And Working Again' (HA HA) I've loved spending freely. I had the feeling that everyone else was doing it so why not me? The shaggy ones never seemed to have money troubles. That was what brought in the credit cards and the loans and shit like that. That's what's brought me to the place I'm in now. Aye...the feeling o' ma heid being askew carried on into Wed. The hazy and detached feelings I had on the days of DT's death and his funeral have continued. It appears to me as if I can't catch up with my life even tho' I'm idling. Events are unfolding away from me and I can't do anything about them. Lasses I like don't want to see me again...hell...I'm over 50 G's in debt...ah well...I weigh over 20 stone...what do you want me to do about it?....I'm doing a lot of things that are very very very bad for me (maybe one day I will explain fully)...but I like doing them...Part of me has recognised I need to break away from these trains of thought but the main part can't kick into action and break though all this learned submission. My befuddlement didn't help with putting in a good honest day's work. I was on ma ain wi' an inexperienced agency worker and a relief member of staff who I don't always get on that great with. I had to take the lead in most matters which I can do because I do believe I know how to do my job but I never feel comfortable in terms of 'delegating' or assigning tasks. The relief person also doesn't like doing certain jobs and will attempt to get out of them as much as possible. The boss thinks she's great and supports her unfailingly, something she just doesn't do for TLK, KS and masel. She has complained to the boss about us on a number of occasions mostly along the lines of 'they keep giving me these jobs' etc etc. The boss takes these gripes on board verbatim and sees them as examples of her 'not being considered as part of the team' but, as ever, does not directly address them with you, preferring to feed them back to 'higher' management as examples of 'poor teamwork' and 'bad practice'. The boss's complaints and issues with you drip down eventually and I've gradually became aware of beefs she's had with me but neither her or the depute have ever raised them directly at supervision or in any other 'official' forum. Going back tae the relief worker there are a number of communication issues with her and she's very impatient when it comes to learning certain tasks, something which makes helping her with them very frustrating indeed. Spent most of Wed on the phone trying to sort out matters related to a client who had just come out of hospital. Again felt cast adrift 'and left to get on with it' and as if I was on ma ain...and I was...Poor back up procedures...staff shortages.....lack of staff training...the full works...poor vibes...I can sum up the rest of Wed by saying I left work, came to the land of the Interweb for a wee while...and began eating...you don't need to hear anymore...somehow crawled intae work on Thur. Totally knackered. The dislocation continued. It seemed as if the day hadn't started. I was asleep somewhere and dreaming, probably of TLK or a family size bag o' Doritos. The 0870 and 0800 numbers rang all day between 9 AM and 9PM. They're closing in. One day I'll maybe answer them. I don't feel like doing that now. I know that after a while folk will start coming to the door. I can handle the calls . I don't know if I can handle visits. I knew the day at work would be busy and it proved to be the case. Probably the busiest day I've ever had. No exaggeration. Constant ringing phones. Lots of work in the diary. No time to write notes which meant I had to stay behind and do them. Stayed 2 and a half hours over my time, being constantly interrupted by more calls and more things to do. The relief worker disappeared from the project for 5 hours without explanation. This isn't the first time she's done this either. I'm not trying to bad mouth the person but I think she probably knows she can get away with doing anything because of the boss's attitude towards her and she takes advantage of this...human nature and a' that...anyway...The folk I work for quite simply do not 'do' paid overtime so the OT counts as TOIL. This irks me big time. These folk are bastards. I really wish I had the courage to tell you who they are so you can avoid them...because of a' this I was late in meeting AM and CH. Had a wee chat wi' AM first. I'm glad I'm seeing more of him these days. We've always got on well but were maybe on different 'paths' for a while (that's not meant to be as cryptic as it might sound). I really wanted him to join 'my' band back in the day. For one reason or another it didn't happen. This has ayways been a source of huge disappointment for me. It's been great to see mair o' him lately and I hope that carries on. Aye, later on masel and CH went to see Things In Herds. I saw them a few months back with Broadcast in Glasgow. They have a lovely line in delicacy and fragility going down. Homespun introspection is very much 'my bag'. You're on a winner wi' me if you can do it well. On arrival at The Cafe Royal it appeared this was a full blown 'Fence Collective' gig. Never been to a proper bona fide Fence thing before. From what I've seen they set heavy stall on the informality of their bashes. There might or might not be a deliberate attempt to create a feeling of a gig being nowt more than pals coming together to play and meet up. Now this is all well and good but tends to be a bit more satisfying if you're part of the scene. We walked in. The place was quite busy. TIH are not well known but there is a sizeable Fence buzz going about RIGHT NOW. It became apparent that these folk in the crowd were 'in the know' and were probably personally involved with 'the collective'. I had a feeling of 50 or so heads turning round to see who'd walked in. We weren't known to these folk. They seemed to be Fence people...as in they ALL seemed like Fence people or their partners. Every bloke was of chunky build, bearded and scuffed in a cuddly way- warm jerseys and much smoking of 'rollies' . They all looked King Creosote. They were probably all his brothers. Everyone was a member of the bourgeoisie. One of the lasses was even wearing a pashmina. Another one had a Daryl Hannah in Blade Runner haircut much like the lass who's ever present at undergroundy gigs who may or may not be shagging Alex Neilson. She's got a very silly haircut who ever she is...I'm so jealous of people with hair, I really am. It was couple heavy with much canoodling and other -ings that go into the couple bathysphere. Soon I was weighed down by it. Total claustrophobia. THEIR WORLD. THEIR PALS. THEIR EXPERIENCE. We sat for a while. More bearded well upholstered blokes came in. Were they all from Anstruther? Maybe they were from there in name only just like in the response you get when you say to anyone from 'Muchty 'Oh The Proclaimers came from there didn't they?' Seemingly they preferred the big city and didn't show their fizzogs in Shand country too often. Saying you're frae Auchtermuchty rather than the capital probably has more of an appeal to the tourists and Stuart Anderson fans who would be their fanbase. More authentic in a tartan way. Saying yer frae The East Neuk is probably more rootsy and 'escape the rat race' than mentioning you come frae the big city like most of these folk undoubtedly do...could anyone who knows different let me know please? Thank you. So The Pictish Trail played first. This guy is Fence establishment. He is 'Fencier than thou'. He posts on the Fence Beef Board thing as 'Fence HQ'. He might well be their 2nd in command. The way he approached his set made it all seem even more like a big pals's club or like I'd gatecrashed a wedding reception. Everyone seemed to know everyone else and constant references were made to this fact . Is this what all Fence things are like? Mr. Trail made many smug references to 'Kenny' ie King Creosote (Mr. Fence) and pissed around like someone who had plenty of scope to do what he liked. His music is fairly standard winsome songwritery fare. He actually started well. His opener was full of longing and space and he bent his back towards the end. This was a false dawn. He started using crap effects and thought it was funny. Everyone seemed to think it was. He lost the ability to finish a song and came across like a student twat. He even mentioned 'going to Uni'. I began to picture him with fellow toffs during 'raisin Monday'. His voice got plummier and I cottoned on to where he was coming from. This tied in to the inkling re location I mentioned above. He maybe does come frae Anstruther but it's only when he's staying in his 'summer house'. His profile on the Fence site talks of how his folks stay in the States..perfect..the sound of privilege..I really needed to hear more people wi' cash and confidence singing in an 'introspective' manner. Of course the bulk of society or of gig going society or of Fence gig going society (or so it would seem) are confident comfortable virill people and they like to hear their ain speaking to them while being fed the illusion or deluding themselves they are listening to delicate, tickly, cutting edge sounds. The performers (and the audience) also know that there is mileage to be gained from the opposite sex and impressionable record buyers by coming across as introspective and sensitive. Am I saying that only poor people can be introspective? Of course not and I'm trying not to even think it but that's what my heart feels at times. It's just my need to hear something that speaks to me crying out. Usually music that piles on the internal stuff with a trowel isn't worth anything. When it comes to expressing emotions you either have it or you don't. Not many do. I wish people would stop trying so hard. I've had enough of perfect people supposedly singing their hearts oot to the acclaim of other perfect people. I have this theory that the gig going and to a lesser extent the record buying public will only except songs of seeming 'pain and longing and hurt' from attractive people...who obviously are less hurt and have less that is truly 'real' and therefore awkward and misshapen going on therein. There are some exceptions to the rule but I feel that the current trend for low-key and quiet is evidence of just another hegemony of the beautiful ones , the shaggy ones etc. There aren't that many real introverts and social misfits out there. The bona fide ones will never get heard. It's the nature of the beast. They're not meant to be heard because they are social misfits. Playing with the loner and outsider image has always reaped rewards for upstanding popular people however. They're all expressing their 'individuality' and who they are by dressing up like their pals. They are showing 'sensitivity and uniqueness'. Fucking bullshit. They are walking on a virtual catwalk wishing that all the flashbulbs of the world were taking on board their style and panache. It's fact...folk like to gloat over how unmisfit like they are...by dressing up as a cartoon misfit cf the Yummy Fur and Bricolage phenomena...shit I digress..it hadn't dawned on me how popular the Fence thing is but while King Creosote probably sells a load of records the rest of the artists seem happy to play to their pals...and that' s the way they and the pals like it. I get a sense that folk are buying into the Fence mythos and brand and are playing at the idea of a rural idyll..from their one bedroom lovenests in The Meadows. My mind got caught up on issues of these kind. A general ennui took further hold. After TPT I noticed Jimmy Yorkston coming in. I like the guy's music a great deal. My mind wandered again. He's a 30-something bloke of chunky build and is quite baldy. He seemed to be shagging a lithe lissom 18 year old student. I felt my ire rising. It just got me thinking about 'the rules of attraction'. I have to say that I tend not to see many examples of people going oot wi folk away from their ain body shape and their own 'type'. I also feel that for the most part it's total bollocks when folk say that personality 'is what matters'. Utter crap. I was oddly annoyed at seeing JY and 'berd'. Not 100% sure why. Maybe it normalised him in my eyes. I started thinking along the lines that if I was a successful recording artiste who wrote 'sensitive' material would folk suddenly find me attractive? Obviously not but I got a bit mental and a bit odd internally after seeing that. It's all down to my feelings of how few examples I'm aware of of nubiles going out with non nubiles. It don't happen, that's why. If I was even more insane then I would have asked the lass hersel, so what do you see in the portly songsmith?..and I would ask masel is there a level of portliness or of fame that excludes you from being able to 'pull'? I apologise sincerely to JY and missus if I have imposed on the sanctity of their lurve. My heid flew on to delusions of grandeur re how I've never been recognised for anything. Certainly not by a lass. Nobody's ever seen me as I am. This is maybe true but that's because I obfuscate and try not to show you who I am because I don't think the real stuff is much worth seeing...and of course I've not 'done' much either. I feel unlovable to be frank and that's not anyone else's fault. That's mine. I know the only way to get round this is to work on it in the approved and time honoured manner. I couldn't stop thinking..if only I could write folky tunes , maybe someone would see through the blubber and the lack of confidence and the other 'issues'...fuck...I have doubted my sanity of late. Just thought I would tell you that...I began to feel queasy. Little Pebble came on and my stomach churned even more. This guy had an oddly Ian Hart-esque persona... if he came from Bearsden that is...he didn't came across quite as badly as Pictish but his music was truly appalling. Some of the worst lyrics I've ever heard eg
...'I could buy a chocolate bar and that would be alright but then ma waistband would get too tight'..its a return to the days of 'I used to be so careless. I just couldn't care less' and of rhyming 'glad about' with 'sad about'. It sounded like Justin Currie doing an acoustic set. Straight ahead chunka chunka guitarring. 'Pithyness'. Attempts at 'cleverness'. This is probably the thing I hate the most in music. There's nothing wrong with being bright and writing songs accordingly but it gets a bit rich when you think you're clever and you aren't. This seems to be another Fence staple. The horrid Deaf Mutes and the execrable Down The Tiny Steps have this in spades. You can either write provoking or funny or 'clever' lyrics or you can't. I wish folk who can't would just go back to writing 'songs of joy instead of burn baby burn'. I honestly don't think this quality is as 'subjective' or as 'relative' as you think either. Quality or a quality will always shine through...in the grand scheme o' things. I do realise that in this scheme of things I'm probably more akin to Michael out of Ryan's Daughter than Michael Ignatieff. In a way I'm rather happy with that but not in every sense...The Fence club loved LP. 'A jakie' appeared at the door and started shouting at LP. I was quite pleased at this because I wanted to shout at him too. Sadly the jaked one got a bit too boisterous and was asked to pay his fiver to come in. He didn't like this and got in a bit of handbags at dawn wi' one o' the club and the King himself and wobbled off into the wild wild night shouting '£5? You're a bunch of fucking capitalist bastards'. Priceless really...TIH played at the end and turned it round. You got the feeling the Club weren't quite as keen on them as 'their ain' ie Pictish. TIH are far less linear than what I've heard of the Fence stuff. More subtle. A bit more 'indie'. Far less contrived. More honest. They turned in a lovely set. They spoke to the crowd a fair bit and were friendly but they didn't converse in in-jokes a la the Pictish one. They brought warmth and genuine inclusion into play. Pete the singer has a lovely Drakey voice. It was just right. He maybe was a priviliged student but he doesn't sound like one. They have economy and nuances and elan. They also have a cover of 'The Final Countdown' which almost defies belief. They were great. I wanted to grab the mic at the end and ask folk.."Right how many of you reside all year round in the East Neuk of Fife?" Out of that figure how many of you are involved in the Fence organisation?" I would guess that most hands would have went up on the second count. Strange..very very strange...I felt this way too...went back to the shithole...didn't feel good...I was worried..about my life...about masel...I've always been a self indulgent mofo...maybe me and Pictish would like each other after all...Fri. Fuck today has been rather shit...cheap, glib, repetitive...ha ha... That heady McLuckie combo of despair/lazyness/avoidance. Started the day off with 'an act of total folly' never mind complete madness. I couldn't face seeing the debt counsellor. I didn't want to hear how bad 'it' was. What changes I would have to make. So I cancelled. It was an early AM appt and I couldn't drag masel out of bed. This had something to do with it too. What the fuck am I doing? Of course I spent the morning avoiding the pillars of the finance on the phone and thinking how much shit I was in. Had another aimless day off. Couldn't decide what to do. It was freezing cold. Damp. Grim. Kept thinking that I couldn't face up to life anymore...glibness Timothy...maybe I could go for the Paracetamols..no, I'll go to Asda instead. Mair avoidance came into play. Late on Thur, I got an msg from an agency I'd applied to a while back. Didn't expect to hear from them again after a lengthy delay but they phoned to let me know about work they had coming up. I wanted the money but didn't want to work for it or give up my time off which I use so fruitfully so I ignored the call. My head is fucking gone at the moment. I can reflect on it all I like..and I do..but I can't get over this internal barrier of making the effort to recognise all the changes I have to make...Prior to Asda I went into the land of the Interweb for a while. Got overpowered by wicka wacka guitars from the Jamiroquai LP they played on a loop..Chloe Sevigny was in. She was wearing a big flouncy black dress. It was a thrilling sight. While I was there the inevitable Aussie in the corner piqued my interest by going on about how he had left his surfboard in Argentina. Inevitable. He was a virill stag. He did genuinely mention someone called Lucinda. I wanted to ask him how many Jacinta's he knew. Braved the outside world en route to Asda. Weather wise it was miserable even for Edinburgh- raw and damp. Ate gluttonously again today. I can feel my gut growing. No I can really. Mair procrastination and dissatisfaction ( I would love to find a day to day use for that phrase 'Catisfaction' which appeared on a Whiskas advert a while back. It has such a satisfying ring to it) but got ma act together...relatively speaking... and went oot to see 'TransAmerica' I loved it. When I saw the trailers it seemed like one o' thae 'The Marketability Of Camp presents.. Priscilla/ Muriel' crowd pleasers. It isn't. It's vaguely feel goody but not really. It has characters with grit and faults and it is funny too. Lovely stuff. I ken you're supposed to say this but her frae 'Desperate Housewives' is great. Whenever I see her I'm convinced her and the lass frae 'The Sopranos' (Edie Falco) are one and the same. Has anyone ever seen them together? In a very very odd twist it seemed A-W was there in the cinema. She has a most distinctive laugh. A group o' folk came in behind me close to the time o' the fillim starting. I'm sure she was one o' them. I didn't want to have to say 'eh..hi' so after the fillim I kept my head down and walked straight out without looking anywhere other than straight ahead. It felt like the old days, avoid thae 'adult situations' at all cost..shit. No that guid. I'm no that 'adult' either. On return to the shithole I began to feel that ...the prospect of Mackaye will get me through..Going to see The Evens on Sun and Mon. They are the latest band to feature Ian Mackaye who has been the nearest I've had to a hero. He comes up with all the incomplete male trying his best schtick that I like...acht I'm no going to tell you why I like him. Go dae yer ain research. I get self conscious talking re things I like. The thought of seeing him/them lifted me and no doubt. I needed that.
I shall try to keep this brief from here on in. In real life I feel as if I've been repeating things- situations, types of despair + unhappiness. There isn't any need to foist it all on you OVER and OVER again...or at least any more than I've done it so far. I might feel like doing so cause it would be true ( FOR FUCK'S SAKE) but I don't quite know what continuing to go over it would achieve. Headed through tae Fife today. The 0800 calls appear to continue even at the weekend. At least by going out I was getting away from the home phone ringing ALL THE TIME. The moby still took a good hit. It's ma mothers birthday the morn. Thanks to work and The Evens I can't make it through then so I ended up going during the day today. Met KB before hand. I had the usual feelings of dread prior to visiting the folks so meeting him was welcome. He was on good form. He's still living in a pliss of oddly Dickensian squalor/grandeur. He appears to have a momentum to his life that I've always admired. I stand back feeling as if I'm not invited but he seizes the day. I think I am impressed. We spoke re many things. I had a lot of TLK feelings. Today I was able to rationalise for 5 mins...maybe...I also feel listened to by KB. For all the shite I talk this is a very nice feeling. He cares. I know that. He's a true friend. I basked in that for a while..then I visited the parents. Mother had just got back from somewhere. She was flustered. She can be a total nightmare when she's on edge. She ran about referring to how she 'needed to make you some tea'. This was a veiled ticking off for arriving unnanounced at tea time. (maybe I should introduce her to TLK..see below). I gave her her pressie. She won't like it. I got her some watercolour paints. She's recently taken it up and has been doing a lot of painting but she'll think the present is overkill/ extravagance. She hates that. She is truly impossible at times. Anyone seen 'Interiors'? I think the matriarch in that fillim was based on my mother. Only the class is wrong. Chatted with the folks for a while. They were both on poor form. Dad got annoyed at mother for talking loudly to her sister on the phone. " Shut the door John. They talk a lot of fucking rubbish" Mother came through and started making remarks re me spending money to get here. Mother is obsessed with financial problems. She just nags you to death re spending if she thinks you're short..or even if she doesn't...I couldn't handle it. If only she knew re the potential bankruptcy. That doesn't bear thinking about. I said my goodbyes and left. They were pressurising me to be sensible and careful and normal. It was too much. I left. I went 'hame'. I bought chips and cheese. I was alone. I cried.
Sun- Christ I'm trying to keep it as brief as possible . Aye, the general lassitude was present today but maybe a bit less so than of late. No 0870 calls at all. This doesn't mean that they're off the case. It just means that its Sunday and the pinstripe world still sticks to the old school 'weekend off' routines. Work was rather shite to be frank, more in a testingly boring way than in any back to the grind vibe but had a good chat wi' KS who's as solid and as Fife as the Lomond Hills. Phoned mother later on. She didn't even refer to the present. She sounded strained. She had just been out wi' ma brother. She hates going out and going out of her routine. She's had mental health issues very like mine. She is an extremely anxious person. Speaking to her when she's stressed reminds me of how wearing being with me must have been at times over the years. We are too alike. This causes communication issues. I made sure the call was a brief one. Met AM prior to the gig. Had a surreal moment when I noticed the difference in air quality in a smokeless pub. It didn't feel right somehow. You could breathe. Heaven forbid. Well...The Evens were incredible. I shook Mackayes hand. Things suddenly seemed simpler. Walked home in the rain and felt pretty good for the first time in some time. Even forgot about the freak outs I'd had re seeing masel in a mirror in the venue and how fat I looked in the big shirt I had on. Forgot about most things aside from the vaguest whiff o' a sense o' possibility...jesus...maybe someone's hijacked this blog..
So on on on to Monday. It's been an odd day so far. Saw a fair bit of TLK at work. Relations seemed uneasy. Christ, maybe it's me but the more I look for it the more I see how in charge of things she really is. Maybe she doesn't know she's doing it but she takes control of everything- her feelings, the plans of action as far as work goes, the whole shebang. Her attitude towards me has definately changed since we had 'words'. She has tightened her grip of the way things are between us. She has identified that I might cause her 'hassle' or be emotionally difficult for her so she has cut off ANY semblance of personal stuff between us. She has done it without saying anything directly which is obviously the most hurtful way to do it.I NEED PEOPLE TO BE HONEST WITH ME. I put the feelers out a bit today. Every comment I made about ma ain/non work stuff was met with a steely phoned in response. The fact she remains OUTWARDLY friendly just fucked with my head. She continues to talk like we did before to a point particularly when others are there but she only tells you what she wants you to know. I look for it but there is a subtext to most things she says..wee messages re what she really wants to say cloaked in pleasantries. Warnings almost. Keep away. I know she's doing it. I am mental but I know she's doing it. Oddly in the middle of all this she announced that she 'hadn't had any 'action' in some time'. It was kinda in the context of a clients 'genito-urinary health' but still seemed an odd thing to come out with. All day intimate/ personal/ friend-like comments kept coming from her. I would pick up on this and mention something personal. She would reply to this with total detachment and move the subject back to work. She's always done this to a certain extent, she clearly does have control issues, but today it was full on. I mentioned a few times how I was giving up drink. I got the far away response. I think she thought I was saying this for her benefit and trying to make a point re how I wasn't thinking about 'us' and our friendship. Another colleague brought up 'drinking' later. I mentioned again that I had given up. There was an audible sigh from TLK. She did it again the next time I mentioned something personal. I asked if she was ok. She said 'what?' I said 'you sighed' She said 'I didn't realise I did it'. I don't ken whether she works out how she's going to behave wi' folk in advance but it seems like she might. She identifies potential problems and eliminates them not by talking to the person and letting them know but by appearing outwardly friendly and then closing the door after they are drawn in. Because of my messed up feelings about her, I can't handle this right now. Stumbled out o' work. Head was totally elsewhere. Made it through to Glasgow. Saw The Evens again. They genuinely made my life better for an hour. They play music and put on shows like they should be done- all-embracing, an experience, almost a celebration.. of 'punk', of an idea of what 'the underground' is about. I got a wee bit annoyed at a young buck wi' Busted hair and a lumpy bloke in a MADBALL tee standing near by but then remembered the spirit of the gig and things got better. Clearer. They are people. At times I don't feel part of the human race but I am and there are times when I like this fact, when I like people. I think The Evens helped me to understand and appreciate that, even if just for a short time. Lately, ever since I defaulted on a coupla things and the 0800 calls started I've been in a netherworld of avoidance. When I go out and do something I'm ok but as soon as that's out the way I'm fucked and I think of debt mostly. This ain't good (ha). I do feel invaded and as if 'there's a war on' and I'm living in crisis mode..maybe I am...I need to cast this off...ha fucking ha...Finally on to today. Had a heavy one in the morning. More scary post came through the door. In theory I left this behind and went to scatter DT's ashes. More like I carried it with me all day. We found the location D had wanted and TLK, another colleague, masel and his best pal scatted the ashes into the river. It was genuinely moving. I cried again. TLK was professional and reserved. Once again it annoyed me how in control she was. I felt as if I'd had enough o' work and of the situ I'm in. TLK did an oddly nice thing then. Before heading back tae the city the 3 o' them had a fag. TLK saw I was doon and offered me one. I think it was genuine. If it was I was kinda touched, I think. Backhanded maybe but still touching. It seemed crazy to be carrying on as normal after DT had been literally thrown away but dutifully I went back tae work and got on wi' Tuesday. Back in the office affairs carried on as yesterday but somehow a bit worse. She did it all day...friendly/ steely, friendly/ steely..all the time. Depite all this I still wanted to be with her or maybe I just wanted some company from anyone, the debt thing was taking over and I had an image of DT telling me about Wilfred Pickles back in my cranium. I was teary and bereft. Before I left TLK took some of the ashes that were left in the bottom of the urn and said she would put them in a locket she had. Some ashes were left on the desk. I said "don't tidy them up. It'll be nice to have him here. Part of the furniture" Part cliche'. Part sadness. I started greeting again. I'm greeting now when I'm writing this. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to know 100% where I stood with her too. To test the waters I left work at the same time as her. In the past this always signified going to the pub. Today she took charge. She kept chatting faux warmly and steered us across the road past both the pubs we tended to go to. She also made an early detour away from the direction I would go in to get hame. This is as clear as she will ever make it. Part of her bars the other part from telling me to fuck off or go away. So she does it by implication. This might change if, for some reason, she ever wants to see me again. I felt pleased in a way to have it spelt out but I also realised that this was TLK I was talking about. I sank down. I walked up the road. I went past the place where I stormed out of on the day DT died. I went past places I've gotten very drunk with her. The 0800's rang again. I drifted into feelings of ending it. These got worse. I would literally go to the bridge. I would jump off. I would leave a letter for KB. I don't want any religion at the service. I want to be burned. No shirts and ties are allowed. The family wouldn't understand. I'll send a valediction to TLK. I'll tell her everything. I'll write the letters and I'll do it tonight. I believe that I was in utter despair at that moment. What is there in my life? I'm unfanciable. I'm not a good pal. I've done a catalogue of stupid things. I'm £50,000 in debt and and and...I hope I've come round a bit now. Back to reality or sanity. I know these moments will come again. They won't get any easier to face. I suppose I'll have to face them. There isn't any other option...

Sing The Troubled Beast

Been thinking over 'plans' (ha) for the blog. Been weighing up what I get from doing it and reckon I might carry on for a while. I contrive to keep contrivance at bay as much as possible so therefore I shall endeavour not to think about things and to just write what comes naturally so if one day you come in and there is a list of 'My 100 favourite cricketing nobodies' or 'Why I hate the England Cricket Team' then I apolgise in advance but hell...so therefore for now at least it seems the diary entry type stuff will probably continue. Particularly at the moment I think I need to keep writing about events in the hope that it will garner me some therapeutic qualities along the way. Ower the last few days I've felt the debt thing take grip. I can't stop thinking about it. It won't just be the 'dearth o' £' vibes. It'll be the general scrutiny o' my finances and by extension my personal habits that being so in hock necessitates that'll sting the most. As 'appealing' as bankruptcy might sound (FUCKING HELL) in terms o' wiping off certain problems of course it doesn't really do that at all and it certainly doesn't do it without other pressures coming to bear in lieu of the originals. I feel as if I want to avoid going down the bankruptcy route if at all possible. Shit man it seems as if I'm claiming that 'pride' is a consideration for me...fuck me...anyone who knows certain aspects of my character and general 'ways' would have to debate that, I would suggest. Christ, I'm gabbling already. I must also apologise if my last post seemed a tad melodramatic. I'd just struggled for some time to write the previous one and was a little cheesed off at the lack of flow and of any sense of variety in amongst a' the 'really's' and the 'kinda's. These words are this weeks exclamation marks..not that I'll be easing up on them totally tho', as I'm lazy but mostly because they're harder to police. I would request therefore that you allow me a few of those words on account of my scribbles being in a 'transitional phase'. For fuck's sake...btw I meant what I said re loving your comments. I hope that it didn't seem as if I had my rod out...as it were...sorry KB...shit the in jokes have started already. I'll try to escape on the grounds that I am from a class who do not 'do' in-jokes...

Where did I leave you?...oh aye...Friday aft and the stretches of aimless drifting that days off tend to invite. Felt mired in all of this ie the feeling of having 'free time' on my hands and the recent problems, some nascent, some all too mature. Started to think about wandering off on the bizarre search for this book which my father's been after for years...why is it bizarre?...well, it's a wee miniature touristy book o' Burns poems...probably run off by any ye old crappy gift shoppe inc in the darkest part of the 70's and then forgotten about...he got it in Ayr in 1980 on the only family holiday we ever had- a week 'by the seaside' in someone's static caravan. I did have a good time that week tho'- went to see Giant Haystacks in action, an experience which has never left me and also spent most of the time wearing a blue and orange velour leisure top thing. 9 ah wuz. But father sees this book as the holy grail and will not accept anything similar..it has to be 'the same book'...size, content...I feel proper embarassed looking in proper bookshops as quite frankly it's a piece of tartanry crap bought frae Burns Cottage for 10 p or whatever it was. My auntie (the clever one of the family..the only one who's ever had a bourgeois job...primary school teacher/ headmistress) has furnished me with a list of 2nd hand book stores in the capitol and mother and father have requested I go on a hunt- it'll gie ye something tae dae son etc etc. As far as mythical quests go it's not exactly Heart Of Darkness but it'll have it's metaphysical and emotional moments along the way he says a' la an even more vacuous Student Grant in that I will wonder why 'a piece of crap' means so much to him and why 'they' think they need to provide a diversion to their laddie and I will ruminate long on the oft and overly mentioned 'lack of connection' and 'lack of meaning tae my life' and so forth...on reading this bit back I feel that an urgent reassessment/quick inspection o' ma life is required for the sake of my own foolish pride...please imagine an EM at this point...Anyway couldn't summon up the stamina to tie masel doon to starting out on this quest and internally pontificated in a wan manner for the rest of the afternoon. 'Left to my own devices I probably'... won't...and I didn't. Wandered back tae the shithole through the now seemingly ever present biting wind. Felt heavily discombobulated/ displaced. The shithole is not 'a home'. It has none of the associated comforting factors therein. It is a dirty, pokey dive where I don't answer the door, I don't invite anyone in and ultimately where I hide frae folk who are after money frae me. This seems to have become a cave where I wait for the next crisis to happen- fuck, I'm getting glib but for a fair part of the time this seems like an accurate thing to say. On occasion the lazy squalor in here has to be seen to be believed. I can just imagine the workout that the landlord's digital camera will get when it comes to 'assessing' whether I get ma deposit or no. Maybe I could take a pic o' the devastation and save them a' the tru-bell. Fucked soapdish in pic 37, collapsed curtain rail at 12 o' clock and the inevitable spooged carpet in the 'living area'. I feel so edgy when I'm 'at home'. I just associate everything about here as being 'wrong' and 'undesirable'. When I leave this pliss, I'll think only of debt, of stumbling hame alone on many nights wi' a heid full o' grog and TLK and a wee carrier bag of chips and cheese, of carrying on the status quo of bad habits and isolation and all the shite that goes with that. I'll think of all the things I should have been doing, of where my life could have went if I'd been geered or if I had or hadn't done X or Y. Note to self...this kinda shit (ie navel gazing and thinking of 'what might have been') is my personal ROAD TO RUIN...the other side of this 'exile' means that seemingly 24/7 of late I've needed to be wi' folk. I need to be somewhere other than here. Here is where I'm on my own. That's a fact set in stone now and I don't want to face it so I have to get out and see people which is healthy but me being me there aren't that many folk I can be with or who, because of various moments/ acts of madness I want to spend time with.Was very happy to see CH later tho'. Met him for scran. The scran was pleasant-seductively stodgy. The chat was extremely necessary. Of late I've had times where I feel as if I just can't be on my own. I've always had moments where I've felt very 'lonely' but NEVER quite to this scale. It's a total no-brainer to say that loneliness is 'the worst', he says in a dumb ass way...shit...because quite simply it is..there isn't anything worse...so there...anyway, after scran and a comedy phone msg from my dad where he introduced himself as 'the prime minister' much to my amusement (maybe you had to be there or know my faither?) met up wi' Idles (It doesn't seem right to abbreviate this person's ID...questions in writing please...), a good pal o' CH's and a person I admire a great deal...see link to her blog therein for the evidence o' her writerly qualities. Mair guid chat. Spoke wi' Idles re respective litererary endeavours. I enjoy projecting that I have abilities in this area. It makes me feel as if I'm making a proper stab at being part of the human race, as if I'm attempting yon 'self expression' that you read about. Of course it's all for show...ha ha...It seems I am desperate to embarrass masel- by attempting to overstretch my abilities in the area o' disquisition. Anyway...Went to see 'Tsotsi' later on. I just didnae like it, he says in the Fife stylee. Way too simple, full of oddly MTV-esque visuals and another fillim reliant on punchy 'violence' for it's effect and 'power'. Again yer Bradshaws will filter it through aw manner o' context and history and I'm sure it's very very valuable from that pov but is it a great or even an outstandingly good piece of film? I really don't think it is. The characterisation and flashbacky bits have something of the Children's Film Foundation about them. I expected Cheggers to come running into the township in his Robin Hood costume and move the storyline further into an area where pesky criminals get foiled by Julians and Dicks on a barge in Norfolk. It was that good. Acht a' the white middle class students there in big scarves seemed to like it..and of course that's all that matters. From what I recall I plodded hame on Friday somewhat disillusioned with 'life', getting even further into deep contemplation of my 'lot'. It had also dawned on me that I had just arranged to meet my dad tomorrow...
So... Saturday. Another odd wandery listless sort o' day. Fucking feezing. Up early and was quickly into the mode re-introduced over the last couple of days. Despite individual moments seeming long and dull the morning just vanished, again taken up by me pissing about wondering what I should do and naturally doing absolutely nothing. At dinner time, I got an MSN message frae A-W. Was chuffed to hear from her but...she cancelled tomorrow. I was crushed, I have to say. The thought of Sunday had been self- justification for ambling through my other days off- I would have something to redeem it all on the Sunday. I started getting the paranoid stuff coming back all over again just after I had maybe started to feel a tiny tiny semblance o' presumptuous attractiveness creep in. I think I had 'unwisely' started to slip into a mode where I thought 'well, maybe she does like me?' That's the truth...another note to self...never never never get ahead o' yersel...never...I quickly suggested we meet up instead during the week. She agreed to this but said she 'didn't have my diary with me and I'm useless without it'. On reflection this sounds bad re the chances of seeing her again. Hopefully it isn't as bad as it sounds. The way she worded stuff tends to tie in with how she's always worded stuff and I didn't get any bona fide bad vibes in fact. She's not one for long MSN chats and she IS a busy person and she also seems a damn good sort who probably would be straight forward with me if she didn't want to see me again. Shit man I so want to see her again, I really do...anyway...fingers and awthing else crossed and a' that...Tried not to be but was somewhat stunned by a' this and felt even more deflated...felt the flood gate come up and the debt sludge pour through...destitution or even worse 'having to go back to Fife'...nae money for the pictures or for bands...NAE MONEY...this shit was battering around all afternoon. In the middle of it all the latest chapter of ma ain personal voyage roond ma faither began. Father can be a restless soul if you stray too far out his own territory. He doesn't like things like eating out or 'cultural' activities. He does like mammoth rants on the topic of pub closing times, he likes visiting pubs (the rougher the better. It was unbelievable to observe how more relaxed he got once we were in an authentic Leith Walk old man's pub. He felt so at home amongst the basics), he likes bookies (we spent a wee while in a bookies on Leith Walk. This was a gen up abandon all hope ye who enter here place. It wasn't just folks dreams that appeared to have been broken. The whole place was dying, wreathed in nicotine and harsh strip light. It was a brutal place- hardcore gamblers, dodgy characters, skaggers, jakies, the entire gamut- suffice to say father was once again in his element), he likes freemasonry (he apparently is some semi bigwig at the grand lodge. He's obsessed with Lord Fauntleroy or who ever it is that runs the show. For THE most working class man on the planet he has an oddly knee crooking attitude to queen and country and authority. He seems to get quite excited by meeting 'important' people. This is one of the many things we disagree on) and golf (this ties in with freemasonry in that it is a very manly pursuit at least it is in the circles he plays it in. It's all gags re 'the 19th hole' and concerns re 'the etiquette of the game' and the fear that 'the ladies section' might take up the course on a Saturday morning. He may be many things but one thing he can be defined as is A MAN'S MAN.). It was inevitable that we should end up in a series of pubs. I'd been thinking about it for a while but I realised on Sat that I want to give up drinking completely. It just ain't worth it. I've been overdoing it and I risk becoming a real maudlin cliche'..the unhappy man drinks to forget...fuck that shit...however, this meant that I was following faither around stone cold sober while he downed many Vodka and Diet Cokes. When he gets in full flow he becomes monologuey and moves from humourous and offbeat to relentless pounding on the same subject without taking a breath and without inviting any input from you. His subjects won't cover a broad spectrum- the aforementioned closing times of pubs, Scottish football, the old ways, 'thae old films' (he's always used that phrase to describe ANY film which gets shown on a midweek afternoon on Channel 4) etc. He becomes damn hard work and Sat was no exception. I just switched off for the most part, coming to life when he came oot wi' a coupla classics. He has, shall we say, his own way of pronouncing certain things. My personal faves are 'speeshiss' for species, 'serious' for series, 'waver' for wafer and 'fan-a-tic' for fanatic (The first 2 syllables sound like the 'manna' in Mannatee if that makes any sense?) These and other examples came think and fast. He also has a made up word which he uses EXCLUSIVELY to describe Rangers' style of play. I think he's trying to conjure something between 'pedestrian' and 'pedantic'(?) but it comes out as 'fucking Rangers..their style o' play's so petantic'. So next time you see Wunder Eck just imagine him saying 'aye I told the boys..go out and be as petantic as you can'..now that's advice for you. I ayways get down when he goes all one sided on you and you can't talk to him. He has a soft side which only comes out in these funny wee messages on yer birthday cards. They usually make me cry as they tend to say what he thinks of me in very glowing terms. The fact that they come from a guy who will not outwardly tell you how he feels is hellishly moving...so he headed back to Fife after a fair while. It felt like a long night as the conversation had been so one sided. I wiz exhausted by it. Before I leave faither I'll tell you aboot a bizarre wee exchange we had at the train station. I sat with him while he waited for the train. He was in the midst of a full on ramble re 'the way things used to be' and he became irate when he saw a lasses jeans being worn in an extremely low fashion. This obviously isn't the done thing in Fife. 'Fuckin' hell, that's that bairns knickers'. 'Thae troosers are fawin' off her 'erse', which of course was fact. Further absurdity came when I realised I was talking to my dad re the underwear of teenage girls- I said 'well I've seen worse' and started to point out that 'at least she's wearing big pants and not thae G-string things'. I meant well...but this line of chat seemed...wrong...off he went to the train...I went back to the shithole not thinking of ladies pants but thinking instead of the fact I wasn't 'going out' (the fatal phrase) wi' A-W tomorrow...shit...Once you've had a glimpse of a feeling that you might be joining the human race and then it doesn't happen, now that's when yer fucked...Sunday...hovered for a far shorter period than I had over the last coupla days and decided in lieu of 'real' human contact I would go to the pictures and observe simulated human interplay from an easy chair. I identified 2 fillims and intended to catch them both. Was up pretty early tho and decided (yes I managed to stick to something)...to wander down to Newhaven, hoping for some windswept vibes and some possibilities for contemplation in the sea air. Newhaven is a peculiar place. It's like Anstruther or Crail but right in the middle (kinda) o' the big city. It has a lovely harbour and particularly when I stayed in Leith, I used to walk down there a lot. It was nice on Sun but was too calm and mild to feel like the real deal. I wanted to be blown away by big acts of gustyness. It wasn't fair. Started to feel way low while there...debt of course but mostly TLK and the thought of seeing her again tomorrow...would she speak to me? Would she be 'ok'? Will I still fancy her like mad? (you notice that I try not to use the 'l' word with regard to her any more?...I'm trying to start wi' a wee gesture and move on frae there). These thoughts drove me mad. It seems crappy to throw this in but I stood for a long time and looked at the water. It would be easy to jump over there. That would be it. I can't swim. I'm going to do it. Of course I didn't. Been thinking along these lines 'a lot'. I have moments when everything does feel totally hopeless. My mind's been running away from me too and I've been coming up with all manner of crazy trains of thought and senses of conviction that the worst will happen. Not good. I don't want to die, I think I know that but there are times when I start to believe that I'm doubting that. Not sure either why I should tell you this...answers on a post card please...dear Fat Bastard, we've found you out etc etc..maybe I'm trying to get as honest as I can?...the answer to this is probably 'yes and no'. I'm still selective to a certain extent. I really am trying to work on that tho'...en route back frae the seaside, I got a call frae KB. Was happy that he was in Edin wi the KB family so we met up for a while. I needed this. Relaxed chat, genuine friendliness, empathy, 'connection'. The feeling was quite something. To carry on frae this I saw CH later and we went to see 'Capote' . Came out thinking that I wasn't sure what I made of it. PSH was great as I knew he would be. It's an odd film in that it very much presents the main character in an unflattering light, something you won't normally see from a conventional biopic. Mostly because of this you learn a hell of a lot more about TC than you would through a standard format. This is well done but somehow jars and feels alienating. This might be the intention- one of the themes is about how he was very much an outsider. A lot of the gripes for me came wi' the speed with which they fired through the events. It is a surprisingly quick paced film and it don't work imo. Supporting characters drift in and out. You don't care about them cause you don't get to know about them- Chris Cooper's character is a total nothing. Maybe a lot of his stuff went on the cutting room flair, maybe ditto Catherine Keener. This is another thing which makes it a difficult film to enjoy- good actors are given very little screen time. This is always a niggle. As good as PSH is and he does manage to show different sides to TC he's fighting a battle against a script which doesn't show enough of the engaging side o' his character. The running time is short. Maybethere was a reason for this but the fillim ends up feeling skeltal somehow. I think my mood was affected by the wave of bourgeoisie who piled into the cinema after the fillim had started. We had to stand up and let them in. Where had they been? The Cameo has a sign out front that says 'No Late Entry'. This is clearly a lie. It should say 'No Late Entry' if yer frae the wrong side o' the tracks. Acht I like The Cameo. I think haein yer viewing disturbed by the Ents Soc night oot is a bit keech. I really like the friendly lass who sits on the front desk and does her knitting..but that's another story...so I left there. Heid buzzing with many things...none of them that crash hot...mostly TLK with a bit o' debt garnish on top...lovely...
...So I made it intae work. Couldn't think of anything other than seeing 'her'. She phoned early in the day. I anticipated a bit o' 'tude. She was very nice tho', quite friendly in fact. It appeared that we were talking to each other after all. She came in. She looked amazing. Can't think of another way to describe it. I'd almost forgotten how attracted to her I am. She'd lost a bit of weight. Her hair looked shaggy and long and a bit wild. This is always the way I've liked her hair, he says completely unnecessarily. She looked tired and flushed and bleary eyed. I couldn't keep from looking in her direction. Shit man, I didn't expect this. She seemed hungover and had had another bash on the heid to add to last week's black eye... fuckin' hell....Christ, I struggled today...all the old feelings..I just wanted to be with her all the time. I couldn't get her out of my head. I can see her faults a mile high but it don't make any difference. We chatted well ABOUT WORK STUFF but didn't go on to personal areas as we would have done before. Her eyes narrowed when I had to mention anything related to the day DT died. An example of classic TLK reserve came when I told her I was leaving the work ASAP. I told her it was down to 'personal and professional' reasons. She looked at me intently. I could feel the old TLK mechanism coming into place. She answered in an offhand, practical fashion. She always does that. She thinks about the emotional response and then breaks down the resolve to provide a sober detached reply. I'm sure that's what she does. I think I know her well enough now. She probably knows the score too re the real reason why I'm leaving, in fact I'm sure she does. Knowing her she will NEVER comment on this. It'll be a real 'out of character' moment if she does. The head became cluttered again. She appeared to make it clear without referring to it that we would only talk re work things. There was never any suggestion of closeness or of being pals. She's always been a great compartmentalizer and she hasn't lost this nack. She can set her own boundaries and never cross them. She did it big style today. It was a quiet day at work. I got knackered, totally bored and all the negatives crept in. I need to get out of this place. I thought again re writing my notice. I need to leave. The day to day strife wi' the management is crap, the wages are worse and seeing TLK regularly is driving me insane. I am a stuck man. Headed to the land o' the Interweb after work. Couldn't get my act together to post anything. Struggled for some time to put owt into any half decent written form. Gave up and headed back tae the Cameo to see 'The Proposition'. Felt 'directionless so plain to see' sitting there in the dark wi' the big scarved ones flitting back and forth. There appears to be a culture in the world of 'arthouse' ie bourgeois cinema going that you are almost duty bound to get up for a piss in the middle of the fillim. You so very rarely see this at Multiplexes- it's true godamnit. Last night I was incensed by the very presence of these 2 'Sonny's Burning' anachronisms wi' spiky hair and Blixa Bargeld complexions. I bet they were wearing pointy boots too. What a fucking cliche'..sorry..it would be the cinematic equivalent of me going to see any Ian Mackaye band while wearing a black beanie...oops...anyway, these 2 'gluey ones' quite simply had to get up to go to the toilet in shifts during the fillim. Their spiky hairdos were huge. They literally covered the screen from where I was sitting when they stood up. I found their collective presence deflating. As if ma ain wasn't hard enough for me?...anyway...the fillim itsel...it had a load o' similarities wi' 'ghosts of the civil dead' (the other Cave/Hillcoat movie) in that it was magnificent at conjuring a certain atmosphere ( the copyrighted Cave atmos- hammilly semi-gloomilly showilly melodramatic. The same vibe that runs through all his music (well the vocal performances at least) and most of his writing). The weirdly existential character bits were genius. Sadly the fillim couldnae make up it's mind what it was. It seemed that everytime it got too quiet the tempo would be lifted by an outbreak of 'violence'. That's a standard movie device and it didn't tally with some of thae great scenes of characters losing their minds in the midst o' a' this madness and wide open space. The ending is poor, Guy Pearce's character makes no sense whatsoever and some of the acting is variable. It has a fair bit o' power. The shots o' the outback draw you in but arnae supported by being the backdrop to (or by being another character in) a bog standard actioner. It is worth seeing for the weird bits. Definately a fillim I would make ma ain director's cut of if I was someone else...anyway...you don't want to hear of the fact I crept back tae the shithole wi' a weight bearing doon on me but I did...so there...on tae Tuesday...did a fair bit o' writing on this post this mornin but then lost it all when the shithole had a power cut. Maybe it'll have burned down by the time I get back. That's the only fate it deserves. Work was crappy again. Strife, stress and the prospect o' being on ma ain for most of the week stretching in front of me. TLK looked even more beautiful (ma ain interpretation thereof) today. In an out of character moment she seemed to be wearing eyeliner. The effect drove me even further into some kind o' blue funk. I was on the late shift. She finished at 4 or thereabouts. The sight of her walking out the door nearly cut me in half. The new emotional regime isn't working. She once again kept on the 'we are colleagues' tip of yesterday. One minor mention of 'the outside world' but that was it. I lost it later and got negative and fatalistic wi' her about my feelings re my future in the job and this kind o' work. As she normally does she sidestepped skillfully and did not enter into any hint of a conversation relating to this. Probably rightly so of course. After she left I didn't know what to do. Had a period of about 10 mins where all I wanted to do was jump out the window. This passed and I went up the road, feeling as if I never wanted to come back to work again. Got here tae the land o' the interweb and promptly found an email from A-W. She doesn't want to see me again. We could only ever be pals. Not ideal timing but I don't feel overly bothered at the moment (Most of my head is saying well she's not TLK and she never could be. This is pure and utter insanity setting in) It is just grist to the mill. It's kinda funny that another layer has been added to build things up to a silly silly amount of 'problems'. I don't need to spell them out. You don't have enough time anyway. The phone has been going all day today and for the last fortnight to- 0870 and 0800 numbers. The financial institutions are on the war path. They want paid. While this has been going on I've been feeling desperate for a txt or a call frae anyone who knows me or who I want to hear from ie not a financial institution. Shit I'm a 'needy' person. I bother people. I'll be talking to you on the bus next. I'll be collecting glass juice bottles or shouting 'they're all fucking Yankees' at you. I truly feel the most alone I've ever felt. Not even started to analyse the A-W situ yet. No point in that. I'll leave you wi' one positive. Before the fog came back in (I picture it as the dry ice that fills up that graveyard in the 'No Quarter' sequence in 'The Song Remains The Same') a wee something flashed across ma yaks...namely...well if yer going to 'pull berds' you'll have to join Weight watchers. I truly am a working class Fifer after all. I think in soundbites and Daily Record speak. Next I'll be hounding Wee Burnie to the grave and lionising that wee shite Jinky. All together now...'This Is A Low..'...I've ayways loved that song...

Blotter

Just a wee housekeeping message. As you maybe noticed I'm getting disillusioned again re the monotony of the posts. I'm starting to think I might call it a day. Quite frankly I'm not a good enough writer to change my style to any significant degree. The repetition of certain themes/ words/situs is almost constant and it's vexing me a little bent. I think at the moment I'll either give up or change things completely. Not really sure. If this is the last post then I'll say thanks loads to everyone who's read this and especially to folk who have posted comments. Fucking hell man. They really did mean a hell of a lot. I'm going to have a think about things and work out what I want to do. Maybe I'll keep posting in the old style. Really not sure. Thanks for reading this. It's all good... John.

I'm working but I'm not working for you

So here I am. Thursday-day off. Dare say I should be taking care of 'business' but of course I'm not. I'm doing my own brand of idling in the land of the Interweb. Being a 'typical man' I'm naturally quick to point out that this pliss doesn't have quite the same allure when Chloe Sevigny isn't on shift here. This has been given additional emphasis by the fact that a genuinely smelly crusty is sitting next to me. I'm thinking o' a story I can recall of a crusty who hadn't removed his boots in a number of years. He had literally grown into them. There is a horrid fousty pong goin about. I'm also now thinking of a story I once heard re a similarly crusty lass washing her nether regions in a drinking fountain in full view of a queue of thirsty festival goers who all quickly went on to lose their thirst. Now a Bernard Cribbins lookalike has sat down at the other side and started singing along to Hall & Oates. This truly is life's rich pageant dear readers. Had the 'day off feeling' back today. Spent most of the latter part of last night and all of this morning thinking that I should be doing SOMETHING, that I should be utilising my time off. Got bewildered and confused by this and sat around unmistakeably wasting time- displeasing onanism, dwelling for hours on how cold this fucking place is and how little I can do about it, the all-pervasive loneliness, somewhat restless watching of cricket, wondering whether to have a shower or not- I wasn't sure on a/c of how freezing cold it is in here vis a vis the prospect of disrobing, as if the thought of catching sight of my enormous bulk on a reflective surface wasn't bad enough - and ultimately I spent a fair amount of time ruminating on how self loathing appears to be quite addictive. Had a few options. Planned to phone the debt counsellor. Put it off again. I regretted it later...Had a chat wi' KB in the middle o' this latest collection o' Mcluckie's own defiantly non- funky brand of despair. Think he wanted to see how the 'date' had gone the other night. I told him that it had went well and I think it had. I like A-W. A lot. We get on. We had a nice time. I'm seeing her again etc. The most significant part of the conversation was what wasn't said. I didn't realise until I'd hung up but in all honesty I think this was the first chat I've had with KB in about a year where we didn't talk about TLK and my 'issues' therein. This has to be a noteworthy event. She has dominated my thoughts since I first met her. Particularly recently, this just hasn't been a healthy thing. Even before DT's death and all that happened on that day, negatives (both inside my head and relating to 'actual events') went down which affected me badly. I know that now. It's dawned on me over the last week or so that I pretty much deluded masel over how 'friendly' we were. I wanted to be pals with her just because I knew we would never be anything other than that. I feel at the moment as if I've been fucking daft and not just on a small scale of daftness either...indeed it's been a shamozzle...and no ordinary shamozzle. I know I mentioned last night that I felt I might soon 'fall in love' with A-W. I used that phrase ad nauseam while outlining my feelings re TLK. I might be prone to amend it now to a massive infatuation. I still know that the feelings I have/had (not quite sure where the status is currently. It changes day to day) were unlike anything I've ever had for anyone else. Maybe I was totally bowled over by the fact another human being could invoke feelings of that kind in me. It had never happened to anywhere near that extent in 34 years. I think most of it was probably sheer physical attraction. We never had any sort of connection between us...nothing that was mutual. We could talk at length with each other of course but if I think now there wasn't any real magic to be had for me in spending time with her and I know there wasn't for her in being with me. I'm starting to feel that I'm maybe 'coming round' now. She was fun. She could be oddly exciting to be around. She was nice for most of the time. Distant for the rest. She has a massive level of complexity going on. I got the brunt of some of this on a good few occasions. She probably didn't realise she hurt me. Maybe she did. Maybe I shouldn't have been hurt. Christ man, I still 'fancy' her. I don't think I'll stop doing that in a hurry but maybe something in my head has realigned. I've been able to see more clearly that the type of person she is isn't the type of person who is good for me or, at times, isn't the type of person who I particularly like. I'm not her type either as a pal or anything else. This all sounds ridiculously harsh but it's not too far from the truth. I've really lost myself in being unable to deal with my feelings for her. I've wasted so much time therein. There's a lot I've not told you about her. Maybe if I told you it would make me seem less 'she done me wrong' (she hasn't. It's me that's done that) or maybe more so. There's no point in telling you all of it. I'll continue to think about her a lot I'm sure. I still worry about her too. This is probably nothing more than another reason for her to dislike me. Like me, she needs to change some things. I would have to say that I'm probably closer to doing that than she is. I hope she's able to recognise a few things and fix them. There's a damn good person in there, I know that because I've seen some lovely glimpses of it, just not enough..imo. Christ, I've come across as pompous there. There are bits related to TLK that I don't want to divulge.That might make the last bit more understandable or even meaningful. I've made myself sound like Jesus there. Shit man, of course I need to get my shit together too big time...I am the boomy sole judge of character in the universe etc etc. I think I know what I was trying to get at but I lost it somewhere along the line. It's a bit rich of me to state that other folk need to change but I will stick by what I said because I think she does to some degree..so do I. Going back to A-W I can safely say that my feelings for her are far more natural (ambiguous phrase that and another type o' thing which makes me sound like a nutter..hope you know what I mean..I can clarify on request...) and relaxed. Not sure whether she feels the same way or not but however she feels, our friendship or whatever will be a mutual one and that's maybe the main difference. I can't see it causing me distress or pain and that's one of the factors to green light things imo...good old A-W. As an addenda to the above I spoke again wi' KB later. One of the first things he talked about was that it had just dawned on him we hadn't mentioned TLK once during our conversation. I had just written the first part of this an hour or so before. Good lord. Like minds and all that..Whenever we've seen each other in the last year TLK has been the main talking point on almost every occasion. This hasn't been fair on KB and I'm not proud of it but it shows how....eh..messed up I've been..anyway...enough of this...

Got a call from CH later in the afternoon. We met up for chat and sumptious hot chocolates at The Filmhoose..shit, at times I make all this sound like 'Sex And The City' don't I?..couldn't decide what shoes to wear, but somehow made it to Spago's (or wherever..that's an American Psycho/ New York pliss isn't it?) , fucked Mr. Big but got interrupted in a comedy manner yada yada yada for years and years and years...anyway...aye 'one' does feel as if I give you the same old bollocks over and over again. Maybe this is the 'Twelve Gold Bars' of unread blogs? Got fed up, wanted to kill masel, didnae, got excited ower TLK, fell oot wi' her, fell in wi' her..and on and on and on... I shall endeavour to avoid contrivance but I feel I have to work on some 'formatting' issues...maybe I can turn this into a blog on big hair and the relative potential for a lumber therein...wait a minute, I think it's about that already...right I'll allow myself one...!....eek...moving on...the reformatting appears to have been postponed for now...After a good natter wi' CH, wandered about a bit and decided to go and see a fillim. Needed to stay out of the shithole for as long as possible. In the coming months I may have no cash at all. At least at the moment I have the credit card companies and the banks money which I should be paying to them. I feel I need to make the most of this for now. So that was the gist of my excuse to masel for spending more money...feeble...went back to the Filmhoose and saw 'L'Enfant'. Not sure what I made of it. IMO the acting was variable and it wasn't that believable...not a goood start... despite the attempt to give it an uber realistic look. The locations were perfect but that was really the only thing which couldn't be improved. The characters experienced a fair bit of misery but...to be honest...it all seemed to be resolved pretty nicely...the characters weren't particularly real people. The bairn's mother's part was underwrittten and while I know that 'conventional characterisation' etc wasn't really on display here, I ended up feeling as if I was looking at cardboard cutouts. Some moments were oddly gripping like watching a cheapo thriller or perhaps more like infamous Cannon and Ball vehicle 'The Boys In Blue'. As watchable as this might have been I'm not sure it was that welcome and I felt I was dipping into a grab bag o' cinema conventions and watching a wee bit of an am dram re-enactment o' each o' the standard reels. I remember seeing 'Rosetta' a few years back. That was great. This wasn't. Or maybe it's just me. I'm sure yer Peter Bradshaw's of the world would subject it tae different criteria..under that type o' scrutiny it may well be the best ever. I'm very working class (fucking hell) and very cynical so I tend to feel that any fillim about 'the underclass' and their struggles will always appeal to 'right thinking' middle class intellectuals who will go on to praise their authenticity and so forth..as if they would recognise it when they saw it...or is that just me being a cunt again?...aye it maybe is...btw just read P. Bradshaw's review...I agree with some of what he said, recognised some bits, thought of some of it a wee bit differently after he gave his reasons but certainly cannot agree with his comment re acting and still feel that it ain't a 5 star affair...imo..shit...single male has just dissed a Palm D'Or winner...he obviously is obsessed with 'The Crow' and Tarantino quirky violence features and nowt else and so 'doesn't understand'...aargh...what's that line from 'Blue'? Can't find it away frae ma own PC but it's something about praying to be released from 'image'. If only you could slough off what people thought of you and how you come across to others/ have a fresh start etc etc. That would be something. Now everything for me goes through what I think others make of me. This is invariably negative..brought on by a combo of factors normally caused by myself. When I'm feeling down this can get rather shit to say the least...anyway...I digress...came 'hame'....Started to dwell on the situ re debt...thought of the potential hopelessness of it all...thought of having to change spending habits and of not being able to leave the shithole again (best viewed with the grammatical devices which I've banned, I would suggest) thought a bit of TLK but not much. Still struggling to shake off the feelings of wanting to be with her, to talk to her which I've had for a year. Still can't bring to mind the reality of our 'friendship' whenever I have these strong wishes to see her. I have to work on that...After midnight a lass from the world of dating who I've spoken to a few times...the 'picture' one...messaged me and we spoke on the MSN thing. It was another weird affair. I find our conversations very stilted. She continues to contact me and to be frank I don't know why. Don't think we have anything in common AT ALL. I suppose I've continued to talk out of politeness. Last night I had the strong feeling she was trying to hint that I suggest we meet up. I don't want to do that. This isn't my typical irrational fear thing. I've made an informed choice and I don't want to meet her. It's as simple as that. I thought about it but I know that I'm not interested. This is a mindblowing situ for me to be in. Unattractive males are not supposed to 'turn down' or discourage offers of dates. It isn't the done thing. Us unfortunates are supposed to be incessently doing the asking, getting knocked back but then going back and taking it on the chin like the jolly fat people we are. Normally the culture of dating does not allow a choice for non-nubiles. We ask and get knocked back and that's all. I feel like a total bastard doing it but I don't see a meaningful relationship coming from this. So there. I can't bring myself to ignore her messages either. Shit man, I've (nearly) seen the other side of the coin. Fuck....Up early again..freezing cold..some cricket but mostly procrastination re what to do with free time. Phoned the debt counsellor and arranged an apt for next week. This didn't provide me the cheer I thought it might. It also dawned on me that the lease on the shithole will run out soon. Read over the details. It looks as if it'll be automatically renewed month by month til the landlord wants me out..he might want me out after the next inspection...can't afford to go anywhere else for some time...H.M.P Saughton is just up the road..maybe I could become a petty thief lout and find some board there...and then in later years a middle class intellectual will write a screenplay about my story which will be lauded and applauded..by middle class intellectuals as real, gritty and so forth...perfect...tried not to dwell on this...failed...wandered out into the sunshine...yes it's true...it was still bitterly cold of course....got here to the land of the Interweb..Chloe Sevigny's in again.. Aussies are singing along to the funky music...it's dawning on me that I really quite like Supergrass...I'm 'tired of life and I'm waiting for thae miracles'...nothing much changes...