I didn’t paint. I didn’t clean myself up. I drank beer and napped, then laced up and went for a walk. I blame the discouragement from the lung infection, and the fact that the vegan inks are turning out to be pen cloggers.
The Drivel Thread
- Thread starter Detective Smith
- Start date
nicky wire's legs
Takin' out the trash!
He doesn't. He doesn't even know who you are.
I don’t know why I am so afraid to sit down at the painting table and wet a brush, or pick up the pencil. I want to get over this blockage. So far this morning, my lungs aren’t giving me grief. Whether this relief continues or does not, I want to break down my artist’s block this morning, and have at least three painting sessions throughout the day. I slept well, for about 7 hours straight, which is unusual. I’ve woken up feeling alright, and when I looked in the medicine cabinet mirror, I looked alright, despite my loose skin at my jowls. I gave up coffee, but I’m having beer for breakfast. Never again will I stock the fridge with beer, unless I’m planning a little party. No more drinking alone, because I want to be functional without coffee and beer. My pen hasn’t clogged up irretrievably so far, from the vegan inks. I’m very glad about that, but those inks make me nervous that it’s just a matter of time before that pen is dead in the water. My eyesight seems blurrier this morning. I would hate to be blind. I woke up with Rebels Without Applause in my head. It’s still playing.
I feel like typing. So I will go on typing.
I went for a walk last evening
Hoping to collide with Morrissey
But he was nowhere to be seen by me
I enjoyed the walk regardless
In my fantastic shoes
Though there might be animal in the glue
As they’re not listed as vegan
If they were listed as vegan
And if they weren’t made in a sweatshop
They’d be perfect
I’m remembering a lad outside the grocery store
Who seemed down on his luck
I gave him five bucks
And went with him to see about housing options
That was a long time ago
I don’t think it helped him really
He never came calling
To get his messages
There weren’t any anyway
I remember a trucker honking his horn in salute
And a bus driver too
But I don’t think that young man was too pleased
No soy tu madre
Said Central that day
After I’d seen him pouting outside that store
And I sped back to him with that five bucks
But really what good did I do
He didn’t seem thrilled
That’s for sure
He ate and then went to visit his relative
I never heard from him again
My fingers smell of lavender
After I rubbed some into a spider bite
It reminds me of skin that’s been in the sun
Melatonin
I will have a painting session shortly. Then I will feel better. I hope Moz With Manson goes well, and will be frame worthy. There will be an Art Crawl at the end of the year, and I will be submitting some paintings. My mental health workers were saying that they want to buy some of them, but I know they don’t get paid much, so I wonder how realistic that is. I could keep the prices low. I don’t know what paintings I would be willing to part with. The pressure is on to decide.
I like my fingers smelling of lavender. I’ve only coughed a little so far this morning. A little rattling. Ominous, but I’m not sweating it. What would be the point? Rebels Without Applause continues to play in my head.
I feel like typing. So I will go on typing.
I went for a walk last evening
Hoping to collide with Morrissey
But he was nowhere to be seen by me
I enjoyed the walk regardless
In my fantastic shoes
Though there might be animal in the glue
As they’re not listed as vegan
If they were listed as vegan
And if they weren’t made in a sweatshop
They’d be perfect
I’m remembering a lad outside the grocery store
Who seemed down on his luck
I gave him five bucks
And went with him to see about housing options
That was a long time ago
I don’t think it helped him really
He never came calling
To get his messages
There weren’t any anyway
I remember a trucker honking his horn in salute
And a bus driver too
But I don’t think that young man was too pleased
No soy tu madre
Said Central that day
After I’d seen him pouting outside that store
And I sped back to him with that five bucks
But really what good did I do
He didn’t seem thrilled
That’s for sure
He ate and then went to visit his relative
I never heard from him again
My fingers smell of lavender
After I rubbed some into a spider bite
It reminds me of skin that’s been in the sun
Melatonin
I will have a painting session shortly. Then I will feel better. I hope Moz With Manson goes well, and will be frame worthy. There will be an Art Crawl at the end of the year, and I will be submitting some paintings. My mental health workers were saying that they want to buy some of them, but I know they don’t get paid much, so I wonder how realistic that is. I could keep the prices low. I don’t know what paintings I would be willing to part with. The pressure is on to decide.
I like my fingers smelling of lavender. I’ve only coughed a little so far this morning. A little rattling. Ominous, but I’m not sweating it. What would be the point? Rebels Without Applause continues to play in my head.
Napped. I guess I slept from about 7AM to 9AM. I’m drinking the last of the beers. I think there are two left in the fridge and I have cracked a 3rd one open. I think life can be fun, at times, for some, and it’s pretty fun, for me, this morning, though it’s got a bite. It’s got teeth. I dreamt vividly, but all I can remember is a man beside me who I knew was a cad. He was so close to me that I had to put my arm on his lap, but then another woman joined us and he wanted my arm gone. I have a slight headache, surely from beer. I’m resolved to finish painting Moz With Manson, and to enjoy life, while doing it.
I’m amused by life right now, though it’s not completely going my way instantly. I hope for Morrissey’s arms around me before I’m too sickly. I don’t think of his money. I never think of it, when I think of his embrace. I guess it must be pretty scary being rich, in the sense that you never know if your affection has to include your dough. I want The Dancer. I want to be loved. Sure Enough, the Telephone Rings has been in my head since about half an hour ago, and I can relate to that song. Anne would kill me for zero cash, but if there were a monetary prize for doing away with me, she’d have an orgasm.
3 beers left
The previous beers
Before my nap
Have left me with a headache
Three beers left
And then I can get on with it
Bathe, brush, and paint
The cough hasn’t been getting in my way of late
Mild as it’s been
If it stays the same
I can play
Before, it was so bad
It would send me to bed
Maybe it’ll go away
Beer is too sweet
Never again
Will I buy it to take home for myself
Especially not if I remember this headache
I enjoy living like this
Healthy except for a mild cough
With the ability to enjoy 40 minute walks
In the fall’s cool air
Rust coloured leaves everywhere
My headache’s nearly gone
Maybe also the cough
I don’t want to read
I don’t want to watch video
I want the real thing
The Dancer’s arms around me
Something to remember
On my dying day
Like moths to a flame
I’ll never be the same
But I won’t be burned
But rather born again
The previous beers
Before my nap
Have left me with a headache
Three beers left
And then I can get on with it
Bathe, brush, and paint
The cough hasn’t been getting in my way of late
Mild as it’s been
If it stays the same
I can play
Before, it was so bad
It would send me to bed
Maybe it’ll go away
Beer is too sweet
Never again
Will I buy it to take home for myself
Especially not if I remember this headache
I enjoy living like this
Healthy except for a mild cough
With the ability to enjoy 40 minute walks
In the fall’s cool air
Rust coloured leaves everywhere
My headache’s nearly gone
Maybe also the cough
I don’t want to read
I don’t want to watch video
I want the real thing
The Dancer’s arms around me
Something to remember
On my dying day
Like moths to a flame
I’ll never be the same
But I won’t be burned
But rather born again
Solo is so quiet! I’m remembering Morrissey, lying there on the bench, for so long, he probably needed a shave. He really tried, to get me to notice and recognize him. But I’d figured he was Red Face and had rejected me. Had written me off, and gone to sleep.
I’m surprised to be feeling on the mend, and to be enjoying living. I’ve been reading a bit, and writing in ink a lot, with the scary vegan inks that keep me on my toes in fear that they will convict my pen to death that won’t be avoidable with a solvent. I just try to keep the pen’s nib wet and flowing, but it’s a real challenge and requires elbow grease to get the ink flowing after a break. I’ll miss using these inks if they destroy my pen. Life has its losses. That’s for sure.
The fridge purrs, and I might lie down, before bathing, etc. I’m remembering Max killing the neighbour’s cat on Wolfe street, in Auberge Madeleine. The poor woman who owned the cat, probably suffered too. f***ing Charlie, couldn't care less! To think I was in love with him, or rather, gave him my heart, because he’d had a terrible accident. I’d felt sorry for him, but I didn’t know what a sadist he is. I wonder how Catherine is today, if she is really Vanessa Marcil, or her twin. I remember St. George street, having to walk up it to the bus stop, and to Kingsgate mall, how Mark would push me to go up that hill to Broadway, while I was on risperadone, or clopixel. How Virginia tried to get me to run. How the ‘medication’ paralyzed my face so I couldn’t smile and how I would ride the 99 bus over and over again, with my face paralyzed.
The above is an excerpt from my ink diary. I’m almost finished my stash of beer, thank goodness, and will be soon bathing, brushing, painting, and walking. Jim Jim Falls is in my head, to nudge me on. I might eat first. Vegetable with dip. The sun is shining, but if I go for a walk at 6PM, it definitely won’t burn me. Okay, the beer is now finished, and I’m free of it. Maybe I’ll get a headache from withdrawal, but as long as I feel pretty good, despite a lingering rattling cough, I think I will get the basics done today.
The above is an excerpt from my ink diary. I’m almost finished my stash of beer, thank goodness, and will be soon bathing, brushing, painting, and walking. Jim Jim Falls is in my head, to nudge me on. I might eat first. Vegetable with dip. The sun is shining, but if I go for a walk at 6PM, it definitely won’t burn me. Okay, the beer is now finished, and I’m free of it. Maybe I’ll get a headache from withdrawal, but as long as I feel pretty good, despite a lingering rattling cough, I think I will get the basics done today.
It aches to know I left you there on that bench with your pale eyes wanting me to grab you. It hurts to know your heart wanted me in your arms, and I walked by and left you there alone. I almost turned back to offer you a pair of shoes. Imagine my surprise if I had, and saw it was you. How happy I would have been. It was only days later that I saw in hindsight, it was definitely you. No stranger would have looked at me the way you did. I want more.
I didn’t know, Red Face really was just shy, when he took his gaze away.
me singing I Live in Oblivion
me singing Tomorrow with my old woman’s voice
I am just taking very good care of myself, not doing anything dangerous to myself or anyone else. What does it matter, that I believe that Morrissey was lying on that bench waiting for me? Why do people get a bee in their bonnet over this?
It’s all in my head…blah blah blah. He didn’t sing my name 11 times…blah blah blah.
www.morrissey-solo.com
The Drivel Thread
What job did you apply for ? Alas, circumstances drove me into a corner – in order to earn money for a normal laptop and design courses (because without this diploma, commercial bastards do not hire beginners), I had to go to the accounting assistant, since I have a diploma. Two overweight...
www.morrissey-solo.com
“Morrissey lurves me in spite of my stinky va-jay-jay, and he was waiting for me on a bench, dressed in rags because he is so kind and shy and he really does lurve me and wants to be with me. Now, mock me all you hateful trolls and bullies!“
*crickets*
“Maybe it wasn’t him on that bench, but me believing that it was really doesn’t hurt anyone. Why are y’all so cruel?!?”
Some brave soul: “It really wasn’t him and he really doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.”
“Trolls! Bullies!!!”
*crickets*
“I long to be with him because he lurves me, I’m hoping he will come back to me…”
*crickets*
“Why is this forum so quiet?”
*crickets*
“Maybe it wasn’t him on that bench, but me believing that it was really doesn’t hurt anyone. Why are y’all so cruel?!?”
Some brave soul: “It really wasn’t him and he really doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.”
“Trolls! Bullies!!!”
*crickets*
“I long to be with him because he lurves me, I’m hoping he will come back to me…”
*crickets*
“Why is this forum so quiet?”
nicky wire's legs
Takin' out the trash!
"i know things about russell brand but im not going to say what because no one will believe me"
*crickets*
"i cant tell you what i know about russell brand because people would just think im crazy but here's a link"
*crickets*
"i wish i could tell you what i know about russell brand but you would all just think i'm crazy but here are several links to where i talk about it"
*crickets*
apros pos of nothing:
"my sister tried to kill my entire family!"
*crickets*
"why is this forum so quiet?"
"i know things about russell brand but im not going to say what because no one will believe me"
*crickets*
"i cant tell you what i know about russell brand because people would just think im crazy but here's a link"
*crickets*
"i wish i could tell you what i know about russell brand but you would all just think i'm crazy but here are several links to where i talk about it"
*crickets*
apros pos of nothing:
"my sister tried to kill my entire family!"
*crickets*
"why is this forum so quiet?"
Shit your filthy mouth, you troll!
nicky wire's legs
Takin' out the trash!
i know, im horrible mocking a poor harmless completely innocent mentally ill woman who has never fabricated any deceptions for attention in her entire life!
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