2 Jan 2022

"eh up luv..."

"i been listening to you.... schmooze... you don't arrf speak posher when on duty you little faker..."

And so it is time to leave.

An earlier post - my my that was only yesterday morning, sat in the old jaloppy side of the hidden away 
Nothing to conceivably do that day.
And then a whole year of a day happens in just one day.
Too much for me.
And this it is time for a summary.
And then be gone
gone and lost.
Because there was never anythiig to
It was there all along

Which was impossible.

So indeed a 'post', an entry which are newspeak words for something which is simply the 'free press' (at last he actually agreed with me)
Of a fountain pen nib upon a page (or in her case 37 i believe it was)
Or a  finger which never points at anyone specifically, just  doing what fingers were invented for, badly communicating.
And other things.

(but you world of 'culture' ends when the American movie about the 'coda' woman is so badly made  - all that woke looking frenetic expression via facial and finger gesture, when the 'civilian' cannot possibly  keep up, with any of it....and this it just becomes a performance art ensemble fair dinkum but as for any kind of theme or message, or even story in and of itself, it became only echo chamber self reverential ...a party piece, a chimera, nothing... and yet they will award it awards simply for .... showing, picturing, some supposedly 'other' kind of person.....and if you ask me that is the lowest form of infantilised communication and 'culture' ever..... because the truth of the matter is that a year ago the sublimest year in history [codicils] ended with me and the coda woman ....  who.... well sadness is when you truly valued English partner in crime, turns out to be as always nothing and seemingly she too has descended into the depths of depression and ennui....which her earlier Facebook persona was telling us she was all immune to, always.... the end )

So where was I, an undepressed, ever, person has a great memory and yesteraft just after closing the lid of the , machine i never ever stop to think for a millisecond about what i am am penning upon, it came back " Bob moderneyesed.... a line in a  poem, a whole webdiary [this] set up for [the luring of] only one fabulous woman, and yet the []  'stats' [ i never usually look at but when i first saw a Sprout looking in a month backk, wowser ...she loves me] say it all...i lost her.... No Sprouts looking in here at all all over Christmas week. She is gone... I failed..."
And as a a writer of sorts i have a duty to always tell the truth, especially about the only woman swho i ever heard speak so gracefully and in such a truly alive way about her many 'failures' which means she is the one that got away... the only one, worth lamenting she got away...

"got away" is an intrusive Epsteinish kind of way to put it ... but then as she was also the only REAL woman i have met for some years, she would be able to take it like a man....
In other words  know, true intent.....