What I do when I'm doing nowt

[Kerry-Ann Howitt]

I just had a random thought, whilst sitting not-really-watching football with my boyfriend and doodling away on my clipboard, that I would share the page I had been doodling on with the 'world' (or rather, stick it in the public domain). My scribbles and jottings often don't see the light of day, because I think I'm too shit for people to care to listen to (if we're being blunt), but tonight I'm feeling saucy!

So here's a bit of my stuff...

I apologise profusely for the sides missing, but I've tried to scan the piece of paper at least ten times... and I ain't even lyin'! It's driving me nuts, and I just wanna go bed, so if there are any questions, please cooey.

Even if you just wanna say hello, please cooey. You wanna cry on my shoulder, slap me in the face, eat my spleen or crochet me housewares - please, don't hesitate to show that you notice I breathe!

Because I honestly do want your life to be amazing, and I know that it can be done.

... btw, the pics in the bottom are a book, a chalkboard (can't say black anymore, it would apparently make me a racist) and a TV. I missed the religious, and military, symbolism. But I've only just realised that so, what can you do?

Please feel free to analyse me, and pick my psyche apart, at your leisure xXx

[toeg]

Well,

I'm impressed. Probably more impressed that you could do that with a game going on, but I guess minds are genderly different. The missing sides make it almost like a mystery show where the contestants have to fill in the missing parts to move on. I can see people going, "discus thrower, that's the end of the first line, discus thrower."

"No it ain't, it's disgusting ol' terd and she spelled disgusting wrong."

"If I may interject, she is obviously saying disculpes, Spanish for 'my apologies,' as she begins her discourse on life's pragmatic realities."

"Oh, get off. It's discunt, datcunt, and that's the end of it."

And I'm sure the more psychoanalytical (or just plain psycho) would want to mention that the line of "jokes you find funny..." was added after the line below it, ergo the spacing issue between those three lines. Also, the wetted portion that came out reads, "Whoever you could inject me with, my possessions, imprison, just plain cause me hurt, me (which is not stained but rather surrounded by stain on three sides, and underlined for good measure) tiresome (pointing being stained and then crossed out - suggesting second thoughts) suggesting it.

There's at least five sessions with a very expensive psychologist who will probably want to be paid up front, by the state of course - it's not the US there, and who would declaim your father for leaving you at an early age, trapped and lost when you needed him most and having to look for both models in your mother, bless her soul. And now you shout at the world your outrage at seeing behind the veil and having no one to attend your discourse. Your inner turmoil at wanting to free the invisible shackles that imprison us all, but without the tools or the souls to heed your words slowly ebbs your desire to continue the arduous trek in the hopes that someone, somewhere, would at last hear the clarion call and nod in genuine agreement and understanding that at least one person, one entity, one living sapien would finally pick up the other end of the can-and-string talking device and answer back with a mighty, "Yes, of course."

Anyway, that was very interesting of you to do that.

I finally found a job and I just got off work, so I'm a bit tired, a bit happy, and a bit unbelieving still seeing as how it's been almost two years. The pay isn't great, but a job's a job and the sheckels from the gov'ner were quickly running out. I hope you take my little essay in the kind manner in which I wrote it. There's some truth in there, I'm sure, but I'm no shrink and I don't pretend to be one. It always helps to have someone very detached to look at things from time to time because we often overlook the most obvious since we see it all the time. I didn't want to sound to heavy handed, or try to look deep into your inner you to flush out the deep, dark secrets you can only tell the other ax murderers.

But I do feel upbeat now that I can drive somewhere and know I'm going to get paid for it.

pax,

el gringo

[Kerry-Ann Howitt]

And I'm sure the more psychoanalytical (or just plain psycho) would want to mention that the line of "jokes you find funny..." was added after the line below it, ergo the spacing issue between those three lines. Also, the wetted portion that came out reads, "Whoever you could inject me with, my possessions, imprison, just plain cause me hurt, me (which is not stained but rather surrounded by stain on three sides, and underlined for good measure) tiresome (pointing being stained and then crossed out - suggesting second thoughts) suggesting it.

1. You are perfectly correct in noticing that the line beginning 'jokes' was put in after the event. After the whole page if I remember correctly.

2. The 'wetted portion' is one of my infamous red wine stains - most things I possess have one. Be it clothing, inanimate objects, electric equipment, animals, people I love. If you happen to come within 3 feet of me, I will at some time cover you in wine. It's why I'm such a solitary person I guess.

3. Bugger, it's easier if I just type up what the whole page says!

Be you rich, poor, young, old, fit, disabled, black, white, healthy, ill, man, woman, child. Whatever colour you are, language you speak, God you worship, job you do, jokes you find funny, decisions you've made, hobbies you indulge, sexual fantasies you don't.

Whoever you are, your birth right was the planet you stand on - the same as I. You deserve my respect, and my willingness to share what we both own.

Our world is run the opposite way. We're taught to feel "whoever you are, don't come near me. You could stab me, give me cancer, infect me with swine flu, run me over, take my possessions, imprison me, shoot me, defraud me, or just plain cause me hurt"

And you find me tiresome and annoying for even suggesting it!

FOR A REASON! ... and then the jots of a book, chalkboard and TV, all with a "!" on them signifying that it's stating a fact you've to be remembering

... then in the bottom right corner it says 'all owned by £$E ... The E signifying the Euro symbol obviously... yeah, obviously!

The 'finding me tiresome and annoying for even suggesting it' thing was because that was the point of the thing in my head. I'm stating facts in a world that is filled with lies, I am genuinely feeling love, but I'm rejected before consideration because of how we've been programmed to behave with people. The media, the education system, everywhere we turn these people plant 'watchwords' into us. 'Conspiracy Theory' is one of their genius manouvres. We'd been watching 'who killed Diana' before I wrote the page. It was sick, the amount of stuff on there that was blatant propaganda. But the most striking thing was the narrator lady saying something the akin of (I did write the quote down, but it's currently unavailable) 'We believe that the driver of the White Fiat Uno was found, but that their identity has been kept secret because they found them to not be at fault and wanted to spare them the barrage of questions from conspiracy theorists'. Nowhere else on the programme had the narrator expressed a personal opinion, so the way she announced 'We believe' really caught my attention.

So I sat brooding on it for a bit, and was thinking how ridiculous it is that we believe the people who tell us to, just because they tell us too (and, of course, our painstakingly-built-in greed). These things kinda swim around in my head for a while, and I let them out whilst bored stiffie at the football. Soccer you guys call it I think.

The whole 'my father' thing was absolutely cock on too. Though I've actually reconnected with him recently. We're bred to believe that there is no communication 'between worlds' and I'm finding through personal experience that there so totally is, and it's one of the things that I think my species deserves to not be lied to about any more. But we are lied to about it. Like so many other provable things.

I'll keep screaming it 'til someone listens bab. But for now, getting your attention is a recompense for my time that no employer could ever pay.

Thank you, you gorgeous lump of sexiness ... and CONGRATULATIONS!! xXx