Post Whatever You Are Thinking At This Very Moment

rifke

bodhisattva
I'm probably a psychopath. I try not to engineer situations in my favour but I end up doing it. I can't seem to stop caring about myself. It's all about me. I suppose that's what happens when you've spent so long on your own. I am terribly self centred.
Listen to david bowie 's 'can't help thinking about me'!
 

Famous when dead

Vulgarian
Moderator
I’m not bothering commenting on here again. The thick moderators block my comment. Bores.
None of your comments were 'blocked', they just weren't processed at a speed you'd have liked - something you'll have to deal with I'm afraid.
Feel free to dig around the forums for the explanation as to why that happens.
FWD.
 
A

Anonymous

Guest
Well, you've probably heard enough of me talking about being a psychopath. Despite that. I'm not to be trusted. I'm not a nice person. You'd do well to stay away. I don't know how to love anyone but myself.
I think you are a nice person. You have great empathy for others. You seem unhappy, troubled, and broken in some ways. What was your childhood like? I wonder if you were abused or bullied? I can see why you love Morrissey and his music he gets you through your tough days and nights.
 
D

Deleted member 29421

Guest
The flat's a pigsty again. I'm not very good at living in a messy place. I must believe in reincarnation because I couldn't dream of vacating this world and leaving a mess behind. People would be saying 'well, he was a nice enough chap, but look at the state of his oven' I want to get the flat respectable again, because if I do find myself without a job, I imagine it will mean opening up to people like my landlord and benefits agencies and family members and there will no doubt be the requirement of home visits. I'd feel a lot more relaxed if I could get the place clean and tidy in case there comes a point where I have to give in and let people in. Also, while I was working from home before my current episode of illness, my mind felt addled by all the mess that surrounded me. I can see why the Chinese believe in feng shui.
 

Light Housework

useless eater
The flat's a pigsty again. I'm not very good at living in a messy place. I must believe in reincarnation because I couldn't dream of vacating this world and leaving a mess behind. People would be saying 'well, he was a nice enough chap, but look at the state of his oven' I want to get the flat respectable again, because if I do find myself without a job, I imagine it will mean opening up to people like my landlord and benefits agencies and family members and there will no doubt be the requirement of home visits. I'd feel a lot more relaxed if I could get the place clean and tidy in case there comes a point where I have to give in and let people in. Also, while I was working from home before my current episode of illness, my mind felt addled by all the mess that surrounded me. I can see why the Chinese believe in feng shui.
Yes feng shui's nothing to sneeze at. I've got feng shui work on my plate too. It's as important as brushing your teeth.
 

ThePoliticalRevolution

Well-Known Member
There were days when I'd be scouring the gutters for the chance of coming across a stray fiver. A fiver could change my life for a few weeks. It would be the difference between having a full belly and just having to wait until the next pay day. It was life on a knife edge. I was in work but I was heavily in debt and spending money on drink before I'd even earned it. I was going into pubs and begging for money on the promise I'd pay twice the amount back when I got paid. The more destitute I was becoming, the more I needed to go out drinking and borrowing money to escape being on my own in my flat. I always managed to fulfill my promises to the landlord and pay him twice the amount back. I've moved away from that situation now and I'm solvent, but I'm not rich. Losing my job would be a blow. I need the money my job brings but I it is terribly demoralising working there. I've got to try to weigh up whether the humiliation I suffer at work is more or less as bad as the indignity I'd feel at being on the dole.

sigh
 

Light Housework

useless eater
One thing I noticed when I was struggling to feed myself at the end of the month. (This was in the days before we had the new plastic notes and the money was still made of paper) I'd work out exactly how much I could afford to spend on groceries, virtually to the nearest penny and then I'd be handed a bedraggled note in change that was barely usable as kegal tender. I felt like crying. Money is only important to those who don't have a lot of it or those who have too much of it.
I won't have money for groceries for 2 weeks. My fridge is pretty full though. I spent the bulk of my income lately on art supplies. My bills are paid, but I've $5 left if I run out of carrots.
 

Light Housework

useless eater
I became so destitute at one point, that I was considering getting up very early in the morning once the local funfair had shut the night before, to see if I could salvage any loose change that people may have dropped or lost the night before. The trouble is, where I live, someone will have had the same idea and beat you to it.
I used to ride my bicycle around with a milk crate on its rack, collecting empty cans from garbage bins.
 

The.Truth.

about Ruth
 

rifke

bodhisattva
im gonna have to buy a new computer. i really, really need the criterion channel. i wonder if just a cheap one will play movies properly
 

rifke

bodhisattva
i had a dream about richard ramirez last night. it went like this! i was on some island, like in italy or something and there was a courthouse there wherein richard ramirez appeared every day to be tried over and over again like prometheus on the rocks. going to the court room to see him was sort of like going to the vatican in my dream, and since i happened to be in the area anyway, i decided i would go see him just to be able to say that i had, like you would if you had been to see the pope. when i got there the court room was a dome shaped place with orange lighting and richard was standing in the middle very tall and technicolor amidst the gray rabble surrounding him and suddenly in that moment it became very important to me that i connect with him in a meaningful way so i shouted "i love you richard!' to him, at which alert his head made small desultory movements towards the audience, and i can still remember just how beautiful he looked.
in act II of my dream we were in a pub sitting at little rounded tables, and i was surprised to see richard sitting at the one next to me with a small wiry edward snowden-looking guy, because i hadnt realized he was free to go to a pub, and i was slightly disappointed because the mask of his mystique had been lifted somewhat seeing him in such pedestrian settings. i was eating a bowl of cornflakes without milk and he was having some sort of private conversation with his interlocutor so that i couldnt join in, so when there was a moments pause i took advantage of it by asking him if he wanted some of my cornflakes. he hesitated for a moment because it was a rather shitty offering but then he was a prisoner after all so he did end up slipping his sexy long fingers into my cornflakes and takinng a handful, and that was where my dream ended.

i dont care what anyone says richard ramirez can share my cornflakes ANY DAY OF THE WEEK.
 
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