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Yesterday, Sunday, what to do?
Well I decided to have a normal Sunday. I am just about able to function on a 'Standard, usual' level. I can at least cook and do the things I was, as a human being , born to do, to survive. Darrell had taken his caring, administrator duties to a whole new level. Some would call it control, others essential maintenance, others a loving partner looking after his mad old boyfriend. I personally, reserve judgement. Whatever the real reasons, I know it was something that had to be done! I am still sedated for a lot of the time, but there is a brief window where I am able to pop back into reality. This Sunday was one of those days!
In the past I was always a great house husband. There were long periods when I was unable to work. I channelled a lot of energy into home making. That is the one thing I have always been good at. I feel secure, knowing I have a nice home. A total hoarder, charity shop buyer, art collector and antiques lover. Actually I own far too much stuff and It is probably a map of my mind in material form. I need to declutter my house, as much as I need to declutter my mind. Not happening any time soon. It's on my Bucket List.
Anyway, this Sunday, I did Sunday things, like what used to happen, back in the day. Before 1992 anyway. I cooked a Roast. Roast Beef, my favourite. I invited Natalee over. She had been working her arse off at University, and being a young girl, I thought I'd show her how to cook properly! In fact, she can cook better than me. My cooking abilities, having suffered somewhat over the years. Unsurprising, since I only ate once a week at one stage, and that was normally Super Noodles and Jacobs Crackers! There is only so much one can do with such ingredients!
Dinner turned out fine, despite drinking Stella and Red Wine, whilst trying to cook. I can always work in the kitchen a little drunk and at least come up with something, even if it is below my initial expectations. The Yorkshire pudding was certainly not Aunt Bessie's or Tescos Finest, but Natalee did the whisking and it didn't turn out right. They never did with me in the past, so that is another thing to add to my Bucket List. The day I die, will be the day my pudding rises and I can finally rest in peace.
More alcohol, in fact copious amounts was consumed. It's Sunday, I'm having a rough time, no harm in a little tipple from time to time! One thing led to another and Natalee decided to take me out for the evening, to that 'Edge Nightclub'. I was hesitant at first, since I have moved on from most of the people who frequent that place, most of whom, need a kick up the arse to get out to work and stop wasting their lives. Reluctantly I went. It was a Sunday, what's the worst that could happen?
An anti-homosexual gay man. That is the way I would describe myself. I have spent 25 years, on and off, on the Southampton Gay Scene and have seen most things, heard the best and worst from peoples mouths and observed many, stuck up their own arse Queens try to bitch their way through life. Unlike Natalee, the Gay Scene means something totally different to me. It is troublesome, infuriating, nauseating and juvenile. Just my luck, there was someone there who I could have done without seeing.
I went out for a quiet drink with Natalee and her 'NORMAL' friend called Jack, who unlike ninety-nine percent of the people there, was intelligent, could hold a conversation, articulate successfully and was straight.
There was trouble there that night anyway. Groups of blokes out of the lash, Gays baring a grudge and attitude problems in abundance. I was approached by someone, who I removed from my life, due to association with lower forms of life, that I had disposed of long ago. Questioning my judgement, rambling about the past, full of attitude and clearly a person who had not moved on in life. I have the utmost respect for him, feel for him, but I will not be questioned about my choices, that were necessary, due to the nature of my present relapse situation.
For f*cks sake! I've heard it all before. People can not just forget, let alone move forward in their lives. This was the very reason I ditched them in the first place. When you live a Gay lifestyle, 24/7, when that is all you know, when you don't work, when you associate with low lives, for you there is no other world outside. That is your life. You believe the rumours from others, you question the abilities of those who are older and wiser, well a little wiser, and finally you truly believe in the fanciful world you inhabit. I can take all of this. I have before and will again!
What I will not stand for, is damn right lies, to my face, pointing the finger at people who are my friends, who were there for me, prevented these disastrous influences from destroying my life and are streets above them in every respect. GOSSIP AND RUMOURS are always bad for those at the raw end of it. I have learnt over the months, to not believe anything anyone says. Least of all those who have a grudge, however imaginary it maybe. They literally seek to destroy what they don't have. Twisting the truth, reading the worst into what people say and point-blank are in denial. Very Sad to see! Their clouded judgement based on their obscure version of events, at a time when their minds are clouded by dreadful people, insecurities and narcotics, is sad, expected but not justified.
I am glad I went out. Gladder still, I saw those people for the fools, I really always knew they were and elated I actually had my feelings confirmed. At 43 years old, I don't want this lifestyle. I want to lead a normalish life, with the friends I love and DO NOT want to ever see certain people again, at least while their minds are addled. I like my life, do they actually really like theirs! Do not question me, my success and failures, past and most of all do not question, what you don't have!
GROW THE F*CK UP!
Well I decided to have a normal Sunday. I am just about able to function on a 'Standard, usual' level. I can at least cook and do the things I was, as a human being , born to do, to survive. Darrell had taken his caring, administrator duties to a whole new level. Some would call it control, others essential maintenance, others a loving partner looking after his mad old boyfriend. I personally, reserve judgement. Whatever the real reasons, I know it was something that had to be done! I am still sedated for a lot of the time, but there is a brief window where I am able to pop back into reality. This Sunday was one of those days!
In the past I was always a great house husband. There were long periods when I was unable to work. I channelled a lot of energy into home making. That is the one thing I have always been good at. I feel secure, knowing I have a nice home. A total hoarder, charity shop buyer, art collector and antiques lover. Actually I own far too much stuff and It is probably a map of my mind in material form. I need to declutter my house, as much as I need to declutter my mind. Not happening any time soon. It's on my Bucket List.
Anyway, this Sunday, I did Sunday things, like what used to happen, back in the day. Before 1992 anyway. I cooked a Roast. Roast Beef, my favourite. I invited Natalee over. She had been working her arse off at University, and being a young girl, I thought I'd show her how to cook properly! In fact, she can cook better than me. My cooking abilities, having suffered somewhat over the years. Unsurprising, since I only ate once a week at one stage, and that was normally Super Noodles and Jacobs Crackers! There is only so much one can do with such ingredients!
Dinner turned out fine, despite drinking Stella and Red Wine, whilst trying to cook. I can always work in the kitchen a little drunk and at least come up with something, even if it is below my initial expectations. The Yorkshire pudding was certainly not Aunt Bessie's or Tescos Finest, but Natalee did the whisking and it didn't turn out right. They never did with me in the past, so that is another thing to add to my Bucket List. The day I die, will be the day my pudding rises and I can finally rest in peace.
More alcohol, in fact copious amounts was consumed. It's Sunday, I'm having a rough time, no harm in a little tipple from time to time! One thing led to another and Natalee decided to take me out for the evening, to that 'Edge Nightclub'. I was hesitant at first, since I have moved on from most of the people who frequent that place, most of whom, need a kick up the arse to get out to work and stop wasting their lives. Reluctantly I went. It was a Sunday, what's the worst that could happen?
An anti-homosexual gay man. That is the way I would describe myself. I have spent 25 years, on and off, on the Southampton Gay Scene and have seen most things, heard the best and worst from peoples mouths and observed many, stuck up their own arse Queens try to bitch their way through life. Unlike Natalee, the Gay Scene means something totally different to me. It is troublesome, infuriating, nauseating and juvenile. Just my luck, there was someone there who I could have done without seeing.
I went out for a quiet drink with Natalee and her 'NORMAL' friend called Jack, who unlike ninety-nine percent of the people there, was intelligent, could hold a conversation, articulate successfully and was straight.
There was trouble there that night anyway. Groups of blokes out of the lash, Gays baring a grudge and attitude problems in abundance. I was approached by someone, who I removed from my life, due to association with lower forms of life, that I had disposed of long ago. Questioning my judgement, rambling about the past, full of attitude and clearly a person who had not moved on in life. I have the utmost respect for him, feel for him, but I will not be questioned about my choices, that were necessary, due to the nature of my present relapse situation.
For f*cks sake! I've heard it all before. People can not just forget, let alone move forward in their lives. This was the very reason I ditched them in the first place. When you live a Gay lifestyle, 24/7, when that is all you know, when you don't work, when you associate with low lives, for you there is no other world outside. That is your life. You believe the rumours from others, you question the abilities of those who are older and wiser, well a little wiser, and finally you truly believe in the fanciful world you inhabit. I can take all of this. I have before and will again!
What I will not stand for, is damn right lies, to my face, pointing the finger at people who are my friends, who were there for me, prevented these disastrous influences from destroying my life and are streets above them in every respect. GOSSIP AND RUMOURS are always bad for those at the raw end of it. I have learnt over the months, to not believe anything anyone says. Least of all those who have a grudge, however imaginary it maybe. They literally seek to destroy what they don't have. Twisting the truth, reading the worst into what people say and point-blank are in denial. Very Sad to see! Their clouded judgement based on their obscure version of events, at a time when their minds are clouded by dreadful people, insecurities and narcotics, is sad, expected but not justified.
I am glad I went out. Gladder still, I saw those people for the fools, I really always knew they were and elated I actually had my feelings confirmed. At 43 years old, I don't want this lifestyle. I want to lead a normalish life, with the friends I love and DO NOT want to ever see certain people again, at least while their minds are addled. I like my life, do they actually really like theirs! Do not question me, my success and failures, past and most of all do not question, what you don't have!
GROW THE F*CK UP!
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