I seem to be getting baked on a daily basis. Trying to have an early night here in preparation for an early start for me in the morning. College at 10am. Film Studies. Cannot sleep.
So I just got baked to help me on my way.
Stoned again.
Baaaad news on the blower this morning! Big bro-in-law Adrian met his demise last Friday. Fuck!
How??? I demanded of my sister, who deemed to call me on Wednesday morning…always the last to know. Well ignorance was bliss because I was seriously damn shaken by the call. Adrian dead & gone. Fuuuck!
Pancreatic meltdown, they’ve put it down to. Drink, feck, arse, die. Shit!
Now two of my five sisters are widowed.
Chronic illness is ravaging my family. As I foresaw. They have been more attentive of my own so called life-long illness, which I am managing magnificently this weather, than their own health & wellbeing. Bipolarity of my moods. Crazy, intense moodswings. Trips into drink & drug-induced mania at the drop of a hat. Rubber arms & wings of rubber. To the detriment of my relationship with my darling daughter. Can’t stop, don’t stop, won’t stop, why stop? Isabel used to love me chanting that rápido! Eventually she was chanting it herself más rápido !
Party people are you ready here we go nonstop!
Brother-in-law Adrian betrayed me royally when he invited me to come join him for a drink once. Never before. It had been a highly eventful day for me back in 2014 or so…Adrian was inviting me out, I had just escaped from the psychiatric ward that Friday morning in early December & been locked out of my 2 bedroom cottage of 3 years’ residence by my long-suffering landlady Lucy. What a day!
My high mood not to be swayed, I joined Adrian for a tête-a-tête in the local pub, The Harold House.
Motherfucker was tracking me down for depository to the psychiatric ward!
And deposited I was. The authorites caught up with me the following night, Thanks Uncle Adrian.
Adrian is partying now. In Spirit. I felt a warm glow, stilling my shakes, while my sister was telling me the tale of woe of the beloved father of two.
Pinky promise me you won’t die young! My niece Lola, Adrian’s secondborn. I promise. Promised Adrian.
Lola is beyond heartbroken. I must face the family music & attend Adrian’s funeral on Saturday. See Lola & her big brother Felix. And tell them their Dad will always be there with them in Spirit. So keep talking to him! And just see what happens! Enough said to Atheist ears. Through death we live!
So I must carefully scribe a card for them with my message from their Dad. He lives! In Heaven! Looking after them always & wanting more than anything to hear from them.
A tragic victim of his trouble & strife, his mismatched wife. Drank himself dead. Same as my father. The Great Escape from an unhappy marriage.
My father’s second marriage was even unhappier than his first. Well he walked his way into both of them, sowing his wild oats. Therefore I am. Wherefore he is? Why in Paradise, with me! For Paradise is a planet which revolves around the sun. Mother Earth.
I was delighted to receive the blessing that is my monthly moon cycle’s downpour last Sunday. Been bleeding heavily into my cup since. Such a cleansing! And after sexual shenanigans of an unprotected nature since my last downpour, my bloody period was highly welcome! I was imagining that if I was knocked up, baby had a Brazilian father. Of New Year’s Eve past.
A screening is pending in my diary. Screening for Sexually Transmitted Infections. A day of judgement, as was Sunday when I received my period like a gift from the gods.
Fingers, toes, knees, ankles. elbows, wrists & eyes crossed I’m all clear! Now I’m gonna save myself for love. From hereonout. Unless I’ve got an STI, in which case I will run amok spreading my cooties among all these young dudes who will learn that sex with me was unforgettable. Highly regrettable. My Pushy is contagious? Could be! Will find out Friday…oooh!
Faith In The Ripple Effect 