I Lived Next Door To Bottle John/ I Have Conversed With Bill Gimmix

Aye well, I miss your smile, it's been a while etc etc. I'm back kinda. Does that imply a wish to use the phrase 'yowsa yowsa yowsa' in a semi-wanton manner akin to ma ain stylee? I really hope it does. Been taking an uneasy breather. Felt as if I'd ranted and raved ma way up the proverbial creek. Didn't feel a' that crash hot re what I'd been writing. No saying very much. Not being able to capture what I want to say. Too TLK-centric. Worried big time re what 'she' would say if she read any of it. Still am but have decided not to delete any of it. Pig- headedness, stupidity, a whacked-out sense of keeping it real, whatever. I'll try not to add any more along thae lines. This will be so hard. Will attempt to bear the almost mythical 'wider picture' in mind, I guess. I will say this. Nothing much has changed on 'that front'. No point in repeating it. I really want to tho'. I want to tell you every single detail. About her. Cheap wee things like how great (in the Jeremy Kyle sense) she is. How it seems like I've experienced every emotion there is to feel since I met her. From genuine depths of total despair (no really) to something that might just be akin to the briefest, tiniest flashes of elation and completeness. A' thae shades/hues (even allowing for ma limited vocab I just cannot use the word 'texture' in there, I would feel like Jonny Greenwood trying to describe how great the Pixies are) . It's all quite outwith ma range o' living and abilities to process. Truly crazy, I think. I have still thought of nothing/ no-one else for the last 15 months. I've not achieved any 'clarity' on it. It just seems to roll on and on. I'll gie ye an example of how the old stuff has continued. This incident caused me to internalise so much that I doubted for a while I would be able to ever write it doon. I thought about it endlessly. It catches ma mood lately. (This is not just down to TLK stuff but mostly- ha). I was on ma way back to the s-h frae work. The situ on the day had been too much. I left the office before her. I shall not go into details but I needed to get away. I heard her walking up behind me. A surge of possibility and madness at the same time. I thought, she's going to talk to me, even if it's about how to contact the refuse department, it doesn't matter. She came up behind me, said 'see you next week' and then crossed the road to walk on her own while I walked in the same direction. The feeling of TLK walking across the street, behind me, away from me. It felt unbearable. I can't put it any other way. Being reminded in such simple terms o' yer distance frae somebody. Of course this only matters if you don't want the distance to be there in the first place. The distance needs to be there but every part o' me doesn't want it. This is her putting boundaries even further in place. I felt it was an unneccessary thing to do tho' of course she didn't mean anything by it. I was totally crushed. It was an everyday thing for her. She didn't see any supposed subtext and why should she?. In ma heid it was nothing but subtext and innards and processes. She doesn't know the true extent o' ma feelings, natch. As I am insane I'm still messed up by a' this. Seeing her every day is not on. I would love to tell you the full details of it. Common sense and the fact that she is alive and therefore potentially able to read this means that I shouldn't. So I won't. This will be the last 'straight ahead' mention of 'that topic'. So, this is no ma first attempt to get started with something again. Couldnae get it the gither. Many vicissitudes at play. In cheapo shorthand form, most writerly or 'creative' ventures on ma part get thwarted by a blanket sense of futility/boredom/defeat/tiredness (!) ie a' the delights of maleness and 'boy rock' (not heard that one in some time. I wonder if the NME still use that phrase. I would guess not) that you may be used to hearing frae me. It still seems to just, you know, take me over (that leathery old skagger Bret(t) Anderson understands me) when I let it. It tends to happen after I've been doing any one thing for a wee while. The doubts and the inability to see a wider picture get too much, too vivid and I give in. I can see masel doin it but the nature of the beast and of me tends to make it hard to defeat or so I reckon. For anyone who's maybe read this before I'll try to sum up what's been happening of late...here goes...there have been roadworks ootside the s-h. Oddly enough these only appear at night. A kinda Lynchy hum emanates frae a generator thing. It never stops. It goes all night. It's tuned into ma heid and is battering away against debt and the shite that I feel. Been listening to stuff by 'my band'. Some bits are merely ok. Others aren't even that. I think about how my limitations are never far away. I think re how 'writing' exposes them. I think about all thae couples sitting in cinemas that start muttering re how 'he's not going to sit in front of us, is he?' when I walk into their row. IT STILL HAPPENS. I think of them seeing me as the public enemy that I feel like I am. A shitty guy who is 'always on his own' (the worst crime in the world. If you're on yer ain you're not virill or likeable or shaggable, you're not 'a good laugh', you will get 'heavy', you will get 'uncool', you will disturb certain reveries). If I wanted to be 'on ma ain' this would not be a problem. I despise being alone and having to deal with ma inward workings all day. The pleasure aspect in 'experiencing' AWHONG- ha ha ha ha- is hugely reduced if you've naebody to feed it back to, to get another viewpoint from, in fact fuck it TO SHARE IT WITH. I'm not just talking about having a 'relationship' wi a 'partner'. It feels like I've crept back into patterns of doing things on ma own. For me that means being too feared to go out and to do little aside from what's easy and safe. Creeping out to go to the pictures feeling paranoid and hunted by COUPLES (it's true) and by ideas of how YOU LOT find life easily and easy and how people want to 'be with' you and of all the middle class synonyms for 'radgie gadgie'/ 'bonnie deekin'/ he's 'weird' etc. I feel so bereft of social skills and of an ability to have a sense that I'm a human being like THEM. Being on ma ain is no good for me. I want to experience closeness and an intimacy of some kind. In my day to day thinking this is way beyond impossible. It's not that I think I am unattractive. I know I am. I fixate on how no-one has EVER expressed an 'interest' in me or indicated they found me attractive!!!!!. I move into real bad territory when I get sidetracked on thinking re certain people who seem to have nae probs in 'pulling' or call it what you will. Their ability to do so often seems to be down to how they can dance to shit music or entertain their intended or smile a lot or how they display their 'confidence'. I can't do any of these things. Until recently I was very fat. Of course I'm still very negative. I'm bald and I've got a small, Bob Todd-esque willy. I ken they are 'turn offs' !! I'm trying to be funny but most of the time I feel like I cannae change the negativity bits and 'alter' the situ. I'll be the guy wandering aboot in 'radge claes' at the age of 57 wi' schemies thinking I'm one o' thae 'beasts' who's ayways on their ain. I think in absolutes cause that's all I've ever known. I never seem to mean enough to folk to dispel the stuff in here. I seem to need you to gush with praise every time you see me. That would improve things. But the way the world is that's no going to happen til I do something tangible ie til I am known for something. So I'll only be complete the day I join Les Ferdinand or get approved in one o' thae publications. It feels like ma insanity has worked me into a corner and that nothing 'minor' will be enough to turn my self image around, to get me away from the horror (!!!!!!...sorry...I wish I was joking) . Enough of this..what else?...went 'on holiday' for a coupla weeks. Saw a load of students and a few bands. The bands were mostly guid but being exposed to so many students made me think again of how 'something was missing'. There were 2378 moments of ennui and a few odd ones. The oddest one was probably when I met 'comedienne' Lucy Porter! I was described as 'Big John'. She replied with "Hi, I'm little Lucy" which was rather great. I stayed in a scary B & B in Brighton. The prop had a thing going on somewhere between Rupert Rigsby and John Reginald Christie. I emerged from his establishment alive. In fact seeing as I liked Brighton a great deal I emerged rather settled and content. The town/city had the right levels of bohoness and normality. I get freaked by too much of either vibe. It was the right size. London was within visiting distance. It wasn't Gorgie/Dalry. It wasn't Kirkcaldy. It was far away from a' the shite o' ma life (for fuck's sake). I've been thinking about moving down there. Everything takes so long with me. I wish I was someone who, if he wanted to move somewhere would just invite himself on to somebody's couch for a while. I have been looking for jobs doon there. Physical distance from certain situ's will help me. Thinking about 'her' from afar will somehow be easier. Aye well, due to flogging a few tickets for the festival things I went doon to I actually had some disposable cash which paid for ma upkeep for the coupla weeks. All it seemed to mean was that I had access to fattening foods. Didn't do too bad but lost it a little on the last coupla days. I now weigh roughly 16 and a half stone, which is a fair bit remove from the 21 stone bulk at my peak. I'm going to keep going at least til I get under 15 stone. When I worked for the Post Office I was probably 14 and a half stone. That sounds pretty guid. Again, what I want to achieve by losing weight is uncertain. It's no as if I'm going to suddenly cast off 35 years of 'image' and 'pull' 'berds' because of it. However it's nice to be able to shop in 'normal' clothes shops, if I had any cash! Talking of which, I think(!) my trust deed thing is now protected. I've not heard frae the insolvency people for a while but the closing date for objections passed nearly a fortnight ago. One of my credit card folk are still phoning ad nauseam with threats of court etc. I picked the phone up by accident first thing one morning expecting it to be ma mother and instead got the usual 'financial services' bollocks. It spooked me a little because it was first thing on the day after the deed would have become protected. I hadn't had any of these calls in 2 or 3 weeks. To get one out of the blue was scary. Not had the courage to phone ma insolvency folk to 'clarify' the situ. I'm sure they would have phoned me if I needed to arrange bankruptcy proceedings in the court. Maybe I should call, even if they could just ward off the 10 0870 calls a day to both home and moby phones...mmm...relations with the folks are ok yada yada. We're still close in a distant way and vice versa. Ma faither demands to have a book written about him. Any takers?! He said to me the other day re ma dietary changes , "Aye son I thought you'd abandoned that veega thing". I changed the subject pretty quickly. Later that day he ranted on and on re house prices in Fife (as well as someone he swore was called Harry Hit!!!...but that's another story). As that's the only pliss he's ever lived he tends to see it as it's own universe and doesn't always think outside of that. He often refers to Kirkcaldy (they live in a wee villagy pliss outside the town) as if it's the hub of modern society/the bright lights etc. I suppose it is, when all you have is a David Sands, a coupla pubs and a choice of churches. I try to think if I miss the family environment. I know that I try to get away from spending time with them. I only seem to see my brothers when I'm in a drinking phase (been drink free for 3/4 months now. Don't intend to return). They think I try to avoid them or am 'down' at all other times. They're probably right. Whenever I'm on the wagon meeting up with them would involve elements of 'forced' conversation without the buttress afforded by being 'tipsy' and maybe that's hard for both parties. I try no to think about it but fuck man, I'm always putting on an act of some kind. Every minute of every day, even when I'm with masel. I'm playing around with thoughts and coming up with the easy option and the way out and the means to get by with as little damage as possible. It's exhausting. Is anyone really easy in their skin??? I certainly ain't...anyway...I've been on A/L for a week and I'm going back to work the morn. I am truly dreading it. I don't want to go there ever again. I want to put ma notice in and fuck off. There has been some major shit going on lately. For this week the staff team will consist of me. Total procrastination has been taking place re replacements and I know that nothing will have been sorted when I go back in. Ma shifts will have been changed. I'll be on ma ain all weekend etc. Some gargantuan strife has kicked in while I've been away. Facing up to the detritus frae that is no a nice prospect. I've also been working on an SVQ assignment. It has brought me real pain. It's been possibly the biggest struggle o' ma life!!!...it's true because it phrases questions in a way that my brain just can't handle and it's been a deprogramming process to be able to even get started. My whole body will shut off if it thinks it's been asked to do something I've deemed 'impossible' or have no interest in. That's what's happened here. Somehow I've got 50/60 % through the first assignment. I need to get it finished ASAP. It is fucking torture. I know I can answer everything in there but my brain cannot get round the way it's all written and laid out. I feel like I'm having to learn a new language and I cannae do it. The whole thing makes me face up to the fact I'm just no that bright. That's hard for me. I'm a life long self deluder. Ha. Anyway, I'm back. I ken this post hasnae been that crash hot. I felt I needed to start it again with something, anything. I hope I'll be able to post more regularly. I might go back to doing some of the looser stuff I used to post on here. I feel better when I'm writing that 'material'. I can cover things up a bit more...eek..the art of internal monologueing by AN Other....aye, look I'd love to hear frae folk. If you want to ask me any questions or would like to hear aboot other stuff, gie's a shout/ tell me to f. off. Oh aye, and Mummy Caesar, if yer oot there, talk to me and tell me who you really are ie You're Mr. Germlin aren't you?!...