Disassociate to succeed

 

As I walk off some weight in order to progress Ina – I am more aware than ever that a face is required to move projects on in this day and age – I am considering the lessons from a lifetime of being too considerate of other people. I cannot tell you how much your connectedness to others holds you back.

In the past, I have considered my family, I have considered my friends, I have considered everybody else before myself. I used to think that this was a virtue, that vanity was selfishness and that my health was incidental and not to be considered above anything else that came along.

This led, in 2009, to my painting a 14 room house in 10 minute increments, lying down for 20 minutes in between times to recover. I was extremely ill by the time I started researching natural approaches since my GP was not at all interested in helping someone who worked four jobs and looked after everyone but themselves when they said they were tired!

Ironically, had I indulged my fascination with selfish people at a much earlier age, I would have been ready to discard others far more easily. I have always been fascinated by the ability to simply ignore everyone and carry on regardless as I am incapable of doing it.

In the most recent case, I tried many times to let go of the idea that I had done something terrible to deserve the last few years. I had not done anything apart from being born, being a perfectly normal adult, and trying to make the best of a bad situation. I am continuing to punish myself for it, even by persisting with this project. What I should do is ignore any new information and continue to push for what I want, regardless of anyone else.

This, however, would be psychotic behaviour, and I am, despite my many other failings, a thoughtful person. What I now have to do is repair my ailing health, pick up the torch I was trying to give to Wolfe, and do something with it. Whether it turns out to be useful or not is not really relevant. What is relevant is whether I believe in it, and I think the most loving response is to decide that I do, regardless of the consequences to my privacy.

So. in the spirit of disassociating, my first job is to replace the icon on the homepage, which will take about a year, since it is a work of self-sculpture. In the course of doing that, I have to turn myself into a public speaker and I have to write at least two major non-fiction books. The first one being Lucifer Ogilvie, which is my alternative history of Boris Johnson, and the second being the original book.

Do I feel stupid for trying to invest in Wolfe, when I knew it was a bad bet in the first place? No, it was an act of stupid selflessness, but it was in keeping with my less bitter and twisted character and it was a kind of play against someone I knew to be extremely selfish from his history. I admire that, rather than condemn it, but any time I have tried to give a gift to such a person, they immediately assume that the gift is somehow loaded. From this, I consider that time spent listening is as important as time spent talking, and this should stand me in good stead for the future.

That is not to say you should take everything everyone says on board. Quite the reverse, you should discard anything you aren’t interested in, otherwise you end up being a follower rather than a learner.

There have been many times over the years that I have tried to take it in other directions in the time I have available. All of these have turned out to be bad ideas. Best Adventure Ever, the game I am working on, for example, will fail to absorb Wolfe’s marriage, but it is still worth making from the perspective of what it has to say about people and their approach to life. Therefore I am going to persist with it anyway. As a creative exercise it is still a worthwhile project, despite its failings in terms of reality. If Wolfe has a problem with a couple of million extra followers, I daresay he can let me know.

I have actually come quite a long way since the pre-Ina days. I used to worry about doing anything because my name was on it. Ina solved that problem. I used to worry in case things weren’t of sufficient quality. Wolfe cured me of that. What is most important is that you do something, regardless of anybody else or the consequences, because the more ripples you create, the more inspiration you dispense.

So, I must again thank Wolfe for my new cold, more efficient approach to rocking the boat. There are far more ways to skin a cat than you could ever imagine. There is always a way out of the most convoluted mess, as long as you are willing to leave it behind. Shame and feeling sorry for others is a waste of time you could better spent making your dent in the world, whether the dent is useful or simply self-serving.

Being bullied is quite serious in the course of your life, both in terms of your assumption of lack of importance and the voice that tells you that you just aren’t good enough. If you are in a similar position, please remember that the love of your life will not understand your baggage and it is therefore important to discard it and not expect any understanding or consideration. Fight for what you need to grow beyond what you are told you are capable of, regardless of the consequences or the length of time it takes you to stop beating yourself up. I know better than most how difficult that can be, especially after this harrowing and lengthy episode of self doubt. I can do better, and so can you.

For the benefit of regular readers, I obviously have no intention of attending the event in October. I am sure I could manage to have a civilised conversation, since that was all I wanted in the first place, but I am not at all confident that Wolfe could manage it, whatever his dick-led reasoning.

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Contentment versus Glory

There comes a point in everyone’s life when they choose contentment over glory. Chefs, in particular learn this very early in life. We discover that we don’t actually have to work 20 hours a day to earn a living, and that it is kind of counter-productive for your health. Therefore we take lower level jobs, and work fewer hours for more money as there is better profit in lower level food.

Today’s blind fury with Wolfe, for no really good reason other than I thoroughly enjoyed being furious with his apparent contentment. was extremely productive. (I think that blog post was probably written 2 years ago, so it may be rather out-of-date, but never mind.)

I have no real wish to rain on his parade, nor the opportunity given that I have been here for years taking care of my mother. I just missed getting annoyed with him I think. It is very odd that a person who irritates me intensely, and that I have had so little interaction with, makes me feel more alive than some of the people who were actually in my life in the even more distant past.

This begs the question of why I would actively crave discontent for me, and more importantly attempt to inspire it in him. I see discontent as being strongly linked to achievement, in terms of striving for future contentment. This is very Western, this idea that happiness is something to be pursued but not gained.

I find it hard to forgive Wolfe for not wanting to achieve more, and yet I daresay he feels he has done enough. I have attacked him on a similar basis several times over the years. I am not sure how much sense it makes from the other side, probably none at all.

My mother used to say it was the irritation that kept my father alive, so perhaps, having had two parents with radically opposing political ideas, I identify argument as affection. Certainly I find calling Wolfe an asshole more affectionate than his syrupy assertions about happy relationships. Whether this is personal psychology, or an expression of how driven I feel on his behalf, I do not know. What seems to have been a brief and insignificant period for him, has been absolutely devastating for me.

When I first made contact with him, it was with a view to simply handing him my work when it was finished, having established a direction he was happy with. My life is kind of over, since I took on care of my parents and this house. I no longer tolerate people terribly well, so, I reasoned, why not pour it all into him. I rather like the idea of doing something spectacular for the world in a slightly self-serving way, and Wolfe has demonstrated a capacity for this.

Having been brought up with a particular interest in public speaking and natural health, it appeared to make a peculiar kind of sense to do this work. The emotional string-pulling just happened kind of by accident, and then when I became despondent, fiction made more sense than trying to produce something more solid alongside the inevitable artwork. I am glad at least part of the mystery has been solved, although I am not so glad that I could not help being stuck behind a non communicative block in terms of actually getting on with the work. I can only blame my crippling self-doubt. It certainly isn’t directly Wolfe’s fault, although some communication and a modicum of actual respect would have speeded things up enormously.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Apparently I would be faster to come out of my shell than await Wolfe smelling the fucking coffee in terms of work. It comes back to my usual ponderings on economics. The basic economic problem is not scarcity. It is satiety. Wolfe is sated, apparently, and his knife is somewhat blunted by contentment. Therefore the raw material is not nearly as appealing.

I am not in a hurry to become content if it means that I become similarly blunt. I am a spiky character, and I plan to remain spiky for as long as possible. I miss the slightly tortured Wolfe. Perhaps he no longer exists. I’m sort of weirdly glad I bumped into him then, even though he has been a royal pain in the ass. I did so enjoy sticking pins into him. It made me very happy.

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The Best Husband Ever

I have also published this as a short ebook to go with the rest of the Best Ever Series, you will find them all on Smashwords, but in case you cannot be bothered downloading, here it is as a blog post.  It was written to this music, so you may find it beneficial to turn on the video before reading it.

 

 

He’s like a total gentleman.” Erica blushed slightly as she gushed about her new husband. “He takes out the trash, I never have to fill the dishwasher, he takes real time with the kids.” Julia, Erica’s sister, looked sceptical.

It doesn’t exactly fit with what I’ve read about Sam Redwood.” What happened to all the girls?”

Oh, he’s left all that behind him. He’s really just into work now.”

Well I guess the great thing about misogynists is that they don’t really understand equality, so you can easily just role play your way through almost any situation.” Julia, the feminist in the family, smirked slightly as she adjusted her turtle-neck sweater in the mirror.

Oh no, Sam loves women.”

Yeah, I heard on his last podcast.” Julia had suffered listening to Sam giving his delta-male opinions on fascinating subjects such as the quality of breasts on starlets way out of his reach in an effort to please the interviewer, who had sounded unphased by his efforts. Julia was of the opinion that Erica was being had, but she stuck to dropping heavy hints rather than upset her more feminine sister.

Erica stared at her sister, unblinking. “I only know what he’s like with me.” She was aware that she was wailing slightly. “He even slowed down for me this morning, on our run.”

Yeah? That was big of him.” Julia, who actually got on slightly better with Sam than Erica, gave her sister a withering look. “Just make sure that pre-nup is breakable.”

Oh no, we are so happy, we will be married forever.” Erica twiddled the beads dangling from her throat. “He is like so cool. I got a big parcel of stuff to make more macrame with this week. He really cares about my problems, ya know? He even switches his smartphone off sometimes.”

Yeah great.” Julia was now very bored with this conversation. “Let’s go, we are going to be late for yoga.”

Sam, meanwhile, was attending to his business marketing his forthcoming event in Canada on the computer. He had so far latched onto a performance artist from Toronto. He had become mesmerised by her thumbnail photograph on Facebook, which showed her in a rather tight PVC corset.

Goofy, you seem a little goofy.” he tried “Can you answer your direct messages?” The girl had failed to realise she was talking to Sam, as she was only eighteen. “Wanna chat?” She continued to ignore him, rather frustratingly. Sam was keen to present his accessibility in this particular case.

Irritated, he turned to an older woman, who seemed a little more savvy. Although she knew it was him, she wanted to talk about herbs, which seemed rather tiresome. Sam sighed and looked at the rest of the fans commenting on his page. None of them seemed relevant to this particular campaign. Tired of this game, he turned to the bug on his window sill. He suppressed the urge to crush it, instead waving it out of the window. Nobody was watching, but he was not sufficiently irritated to express his American masculinity in traditionally violent fashion. He decided to fill the dishwasher. Maybe Erica might want to make some babies later if she didn’t have too much to do. He might even ask her what she wanted to make for dinner later, if he remembered!

Sam dimly remembered doing all this for himself, but it wasn’t his job now, he reasoned. Getting married was the most sensible decision he had made. It freed up so much time for more hook-ups, and more kids were always welcome. Now that he had reversed his vasectomy, he was the proud father of 27. He guessed he needed a bigger house. He settled down to some online porn, and worked on his lymphatic drainage.

Erica, pleasantly stretched from the yoga, was looking forward to trying some macrame. She could make a plant pot holder, maybe a chair eventually. She noted the neatly trimmed lawn as she walked up the path, and entered the house, feeling pleased as she looked at the cleared kitchen. Sam was so considerate!

What do you think we should have for dinner, darling?” Sam cocked his head to one side, smiling fondly at his lovely wife.

I was thinking of some quinoa?” Erica moved towards the fridge.

That would be lovely, darling.” Sam breathed a sigh of contentment as the little woman prepared his dinner. He went back to the computer to see if he could find any more Canadians to attend his event. He was in luck, a hot little girl from Montreal was on his page. He quickly chose an account to give her some encouragement. “I’m heading out after dinner, honey.”

OK.” Erica couldn’t really say no, he had been working so hard all day. He really was the best husband ever.

They ate together, gazing across the table. Sam was aware of being bored out of his mind, but it was tolerable for the sake of domestic bliss. He would be seeing his business manager, a lady of only 40, that he had known for twenty years after dinner. Erica could only think of what a perfect life they had.

Is that a new sweater?” Sam smiled. “It’s really lovely. You know you look great in green. I love you.”

Ooooh I love you too. Yes, I got it at the market. I’m going to do some macrame tonight.”

That’s marvellous, darling. I gotta go. I shouldn’t be too late.” Sam got up from the table with some relief at the thought of getting out. He bent down to kiss Erica and headed for the door.

Erica cleared the table, washed the floor, cleaned down the fridge and the surfaces, saw to their daughter and settled down to learn some macrame, blissfully unaware of Sam’s appointment.

Some hours later, Sam pulled his trousers back on and thanked Kiki for her time. “Do you think it would be OK if we tried something a little different next week? A little, ya know, darker?”

Kiki nodded silently. She had known for years that conversation with Sam was somewhat limited, and therefore pointless. She was unsure how his marriage was working, but she was relieved that he had found someone that hadn’t become bored with him. That had always been a worry, since Sam only seemed to have one distant, superficial speed. That wasn’t to say it was a bad thing. Kiki had had a taste for promiscuous men for years, and was aware that platitudes were a good weapon if you didn’t really want to engage beyond the physical. It had not worked well for Sam’s relationships however, so Kiki and the rest of the stable had breathed a sigh of relief that Erica seemed to be just as skilled at empty conversation as he was. She watched as Sam crushed a beetle on her floor and clenched his fist. Something different at last. Sam often seemed like a coiled spring, perhaps something a little darker indicated some actual passion.

As Sam left the apartment building to return home, a small child tried to ask him for the time.

No.” Sam swept past the child and moved away. He checked his smartphone. The pesky Dr Cedar was trying to message him again. Some time-wasting bullshit, nothing to do with money. What a waste of time! She seemed to be saying she had several years of work she wanted to discuss. What use was that to him? It wouldn’t sell any health food. He sneered as he blocked her. Probably just wanted to talk shit, like the rest of them.

He checked his fan page for any potential Canadian hotties, and decided it was time to go home.

How has your day been, darling?” Sam had allocated fifteen minutes to listen to his wife, as he had read somewhere that this was a big part of the male-female divide and an important part of being the best husband ever.

You’re such a good listener, Sam.” Erica blinked.

Wanna go to bed, baby?”

Dr Kira Cedar had been trying to talk to Sam for weeks. She had been working on a slightly whacky piece of ecological economics, tracing the history of marketing and food politics in the course of explaining how the general public’s lives had been misled to the point of mainstream consumption, mainstream illness, and mainstream chemical cures. She could not understand why he only wanted to talk bullshit. She had tried to cultivate Sam, since she and Sam had seemed to get on rather well since their fortieth. Sam, however, only seemed to want to pretend to be a variety of different people and talk nonsense, so it was taking rather a long time.

Finding herself blocked, she realised that she would never be able to cope with interacting with anyone, never mind the public. If people liked reading rubbish, how would she ever persuade them to read her book? She had wanted Sam to use the information, since it was an upgrade of what he was doing and would probably ensure global fame. What had she done? Did Sam only like stupid people?

As Kira had taken up this project because she was effectively trapped at home taking care of her mother, she was not in a position to be presenting anything, nor did she want to. What use was the book, if nobody would read or talk about it? She had nobody else to discuss it with?

Falling into a deep depression, Kira abandoned her work and took up sewing. She became quite famous for it. The research festered in a drawer. Kira became lonely. Her friends fell away as they were aware that this melancholy had begun with the Sam incident. Her confidence waned. She stopped leaving the house.

Sam had seen her videos, he didn’t understand it. She had seemed interesting, to the point of becoming a slight manic obsession for a few weeks, but why was she so upset? She must be insane.

Thank God he was married. At least he knew those rules.

 

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Best hate ever – Ina Disguise versus David Wolfe

As you can imagine, I am feeling a bit flat today, given that I have just had another lousy birthday and have ascertained that I have wasted yet more time appeasing somebody on an utterly pointless basis. Therefore I will be spending today re-editing some of my funnier stuff and tidying up before I decide whether to remove all the free marketing Ina did on the grounds of really not caring about anything anymore.

On a funnier note, here is why Wolfe and I did not get on, although should he read this I happen to know that he will secretly find it hysterically funny – no, I do not plan to explain this further, worry not Wolfe. This is from his lovely blog post, which I found yesterday. I did catch sight of some boring and rather staid posts a couple of years back, but chose to avoid them and I was hoping the indication of brain aging was temporary.   David’s words are in bold:

Here are 10 Things I do to Help Keep my Wife Happy!

1. Chores

Small tasks seem simple and straightforward, but they tend to pile up. Pretty soon, the wife is running around the house for a half an hour getting everything done before bed. This is hard for anyone. Small things like emptying or loading the dishwasher, moving along the laundry, or taking out the trash, are easy to do and help to make a loved one feel more appreciated. It is hard because I really live to work, to make sure I am helping around the house. However, taking 2 hours out of each day to be one-on-one with my daughter is a huge break for my wife. Helping with bath time, reading time and simply making sure I clean up after myself is enough to keep things rolling with positivity.

Congrats on managing to clean up after yourself.  This already looks like the most boring day ever. Do not refer to your wife as ‘the wife’ as it is extremely insulting. What happened to the queue of groupies you were so proud of?  Is she first in that queue?

2. Her Needs First

Being in a relationship means caring for the needs of your partner. As often as possible, I try to put her needs first. I ask her what she wants for dinner instead of stating what I want. When we walk or run together, I try to match her pace. Alternatively, she will yell at me to slow down!

I am not sure why anyone would have to think about this, unless of course they aren’t actually doing anything apart from role-playing ‘the best husband ever.’  Time apart is a lot more important than time together, unless of course you are trying to create a homogeneous unit of melded non-thought and pithy unproductive boredom.

3. Listen Not Fix

Sometimes my wife just needs to talk about her problems without someone trying to fix it. Men want to get to a point in the conversation where they can offer a quick fix and then drop it. However, my wife needs to talk through her issues, and I allow her to do that with me, without glancing at my smartphone as she does.

This is straight out of a self-help book from the nineties.  You do not deserve a medal for avoiding your text messages.

4. Use Kind and Grateful Words

I constantly remind myself to use kind and comforting words with my wife. Thank yous and pleases go a long way in any conversation. I want to make sure she understands how much I appreciate what she does for me.

Know each other well, do you?  This is not the person I know.  He was a lot more interesting and doesn’t give a shit about anybody.

 

5. Compliments

I make it a point to compliment my wife whenever she tries something new like a hairstyle, a new sweater, or even a new craft. I also talk highly of her to our friends. She is very talented and, whenever I can, I tell my friends all about how amazing she is.
That said, my wife and I keep it real with others. We are not afraid to look ‘messy’ around others, as real relationships are not without complications.

OK this is now into the realms of extremely tedious.  How do you expect to get better at anything if you are constantly soft-soaping each other?  Try starting from the standpoint that you aren’t good enough and work from there.

 

6. Take Responsibility

Jobs like mowing the lawn and taking out the trash, are mine to do. I try very hard to get them done without my wife having to ask me more than once. No one wants to be a nag, and by getting stuff done when asked, I take that burden off of her.

You sound like Theresa May  “There are boy jobs and girl jobs.”  What a boring old fart you turned out to be?  What happened to the importance of male – female friction?

 

7. Listen, Apologize, Change

Your wife knows you better than anyone else on the planet. Thus, when she has something to say about how one deals with other people, take note. She is the perfect outside observer that has your best interest at heart. She stays out of my business affairs but when she speaks up, I listen, and it has helped me take my business to the next level.

Evidently she doesn’t know you very well, otherwise you wouldn’t continue to be such a rude, tiresome wanker.

 

8. Ask Her Opinion

I always ask her for an opinion when I have a big decision I have to make. She is also very good at considering the feelings of others and does a great job helping me see all parts of the situation.

Keep doing that, she is undoubtedly better at that than you are.  She couldn’t be any worse.

 

9. Support Her Dreams

Supporting your wife’s dreams is a lot easier than one may think. All one has to do is make sure she has the time and the materials to make her dream happen. If she wants to learn how to operate her computer better, get her a book about that. If she wishes to take up hiking, set aside time so you can both enjoy the outdoors together. We have a second kid on the way, and we are looking to move into a bigger home to accommodate that. 2016 is a year of big dreams for us.

That’s really great, I am delighted that you are happy, but you aren’t going to be saving the world any time soon.  This is a time-consuming, patronising and boring relationship.  Sorry, but I am glad you are happy with it anyway.  I didn’t realise you were this limited? Is this new?

 

10. Say, I Love You

The phrase, “I love you” should be used as often as possible. You chose your wife to have and to hold, and she should never have any doubt that you still feel the same way about her.

Role-playing a relationship isn’t real.  I take it she has more money than you then?

 

One’s words and actions have a huge effect on how their loved ones feel. This is especially true in a husband, wife relationship. I make it one of my biggest priorities to help my wife feel cared for and happy.

Tell me about it.  I do not forsee a bright or productive future.

 

What are the little things you do to help your wife feel happy and cared for?

Well, personally I like to lock myself up until I feel less ugly, stupid and undervalued, which can take anything up to fifty years.  Perhaps you should try insulting her intelligence more.  That seems to work well for you. I’ve been dead for years anyway.

 

If anyone wants any artwork, I am wanting rid of some of this stuff before I have to pay to store it.

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My 47th Birthday Present from David Wolfe UK event 2017

My 47th Birthday Present from David Wolfe UK event 2017

Today is my birthday.  I am avoiding all calls from social services and have been out buying obscure seeds and a gigantic commercial blender (we are into horsepower level of power now and the kitchen sounds like a large car starts up when I prepare our respective supermix)

I took the liberty of looking up the UK events page for Wolfe, to see if I wanted to buy the ticket for October, and on a very tiny link at the bottom of the search box, at last came across the blog post about how Wolfe keeps his wife of seven years happy.

So thank God I found it before buying a non-refundable ticket for an event that I would have been tolerating only to get moved on with my academic work.  The last seven years has been a source of hurt, self-doubt and self-loathing for no reason at all!  How long would it have taken Wolfe to email and simply say sorry, misunderstood, what is your work about, actually?

Instead of which, I have been blocked in terms of an important piece of work, I have done a lot of completely irrelevant and unnecessary work, and Ina has, all things considered, been a complete waste of my time and energy!

I am pretty delighted that I spotted this very tiny link before I spent any money on the non-refundable ticket.  I can now not bother doing anything about my health and basically stop wasting my time worrying about hurting the feelings of somebody with no apparent conscience about how he treats complete strangers.

Not the first time I have been assured of my complete lack of importance, and it won’t be the last. Happy birthday and wasted decade.  What a bore. Don’t think there is a way of putting a positive spin on this.

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Handling Stress

I have not handled the last three months at all well. As a result, I do not feel in control of my surroundings, I was chatting to myself about how tired I was this morning as I fed the cat, and I entirely cracked up despite being lauded as taking great care of my mother at the meeting I did not attend. So here is a post about handling stress, from someone who cannot, to the point of ignoring the phone this morning.

One of the pithier things that are said to you when you are a carer is that you are supposed to look after yourself first, as you cannot pour from an empty cup.  Whilst this may be true, it is not practically possible for many people, never mind somebody in a position where they are scared to accept help because it means the involvement of family who mean them harm.

I became aware that I was suffering from more advanced levels of stress after my mother came out of hospital, and rather than accept that my mother’s new raw diet was making her well, social services and the NHS did everything to refuse to accept the information, which as you can imagine is extremely frustrating in addition to being a time-waster in other respects.  Why would I give up my pension, career and right to children to make a bad job of caring for my mother?  You would need to ask them this question.  Clearly I am very ugly, and have nothing else to do.

It has not affected mother’s care up until the last month, when I have not been as assiduous about her massage and exercise as I could have been, since I did not know if she was going to be here or not.  They like to tell you that they are doing the opposite of what they are actually doing, so as they told me many times that they had no intention of removing her, I was convinced that everything they were doing indicated that they were.

This week, they had a third meeting about her ‘protection.’  Her protection has consisted of passing information to her vile children, stressing me out as much as they could, investigating her unusually healthy diet on the grounds that it did not look ‘normal’ enough and insisting that nurses who are here for 5 minutes a day are to be listened to, whilst I am not.  I did not end up going to this meeting, as I was aware that I was too stressed to sit in a room full of hostile and in many cases stupid people expressing their opinions about my care of my mother.

Anyway, when I realised that my stress levels were out of control, I first took to spending a lot of time lying on the couch with my eyes shut trying to think my way out of the situation. Unfortunately this means I try to think in advance of an established system based on stupidity – they simply pretend that they are too stupid to accept any information from you in order to insult you.  As my family have been doing this for years, you would think I would be used to it, but no, apparently not. So, recounting conversations to myself in an effort to handle things better was of limited use and wasted a lot of worry-time.

I am unable to do any creative work when I am like this, so I then had the lucky break of discovering Wolfe’s event, and set myself an unreasonable target in terms of my appearance.  Walking helped with stress quite a lot, as did attacking the jungle gardens of myself and my neighbour.  Mrs W insists that I must remove clutter, so a lot of niggly jobs that I was ignoring have now been done.

B vitamins, which I doubled up on, were of limited use in terms of myelin sheath repair, and I still went off like a rocket every time the social workers tried to talk to me, as their enquiries varied from illogical to insulting.  Valerian and rose water was of marginally more help, although I did find myself choosing tryptophan rich foods during this period.  I have not attempted any big decisions as I have no confidence at all that I would get anything right.

I managed to communicate that fact that I just want to be left alone, with a return of my previous privacy, reasonably calmly this morning after a five hour panic attack overnight.  This is  not good for your health, and I should probably have done an 8 mile circuit rather than stay in bed.  The cats at one point sandwiched me between them, so worried were they that I would fail to open a can this morning.  Anyone who knows cats, knows that this level of organised cooperation is quite extreme even for cats that know each other well.

Today I managed to sleep a bit, and am going to go out later in the spirit of my Mrs W project.  I wonder how I expect to handle a public event if I cannot handle a bunch of strangers entering my home and expressing ill-informed opinions about my mother’s care?  Should I not be more laid back about this, since she is 90 and I cannot expect her to live forever?  Given that she has had 22 years, and the life I wanted is out of reach, should I not be pulling back?  Or is it just the seething fury at the level of disrespect for the sacrifices I made for this family whilst being treated like utter garbage being extended to random strangers who readily make stupid assumptions about my life?  Again yesterday, I had a nurse telling me that I failed to maintain long-term relationships in response to my explaining that I had managed even heavy jobs here thanks to my team of ex-boyfriends dropping in at various times over the last twenty years.  On the contrary, they have been around for thirty years.  It is a bit like having six absent husbands who don’t hang around for the nagging.  Surely that suits everyone?

Anyway, I have learned from the last three months that I am no longer able to handle strangers in my home or stress particularly well and I definitely need to improve my level of fitness and I need to get out of this situation a bit more.  I feel considering going to the event is on one hand selfish, and on the other not selfish enough.  Nobody gives a shit about my well-being.  They keep telling me that I need more help to manage one sleepy old lady, apparently not understanding that the more superficial bullshit I have to talk and the more strangers that come into my home, the more danger I feel we are in, given the persistent investigation.  Therefore even when they want to come here and deliver good news, it is just another threat and I do not want to see them.

So, after saying all that – the best stress coping mechanism I can see from all this is getting out of the situation entirely.  Making space is at least as important as nutritional tweaks.  Apart from that, just don’t get into the situation in the first place.  Nobody is really worth being reduced to a doormat over.

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For those tracking statistics…

It looks as if nobody is reading the blog at all. I have 14 spammers per day, who hit the same pages without leaving a trace, and I probably know the only people actually reading personally.

Facebook and Twitter used to yield quite a few, as did linkedin, and there used to be a few direct readers checking in to whatever the blog said. Now, also because I tweet a lot less widely, there are no real readers by the looks of the statistics.

So, thanks if you have been keeping tuned in, but there looks as if this is a dying blog from the last couple of weeks or so. Youtube is doing marginally better, so I may concentrate more on the audio blog once I have filled in all the blanks that are worth filling.

I am having pretty much constant anxiety attacks due to the extended attack on my mother and I, and I am not sure how much more my health will tolerate, so everything is now very unstable here.

Am spending a lot of time de-cluttering as a result. I have nothing to prove in terms of my care for my mother, and I am not really in a position to carry on fighting to make myself ill.

Not a great period, and certainly not a productive one as I am worrying about how I will store all this stuff and pay for everything in the near future.

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The Quest for Quality

The Quest for Quality

Today I am considering the matter of quality.  As I have previously written, perfection is for failures and people who don’t try.  Today I want to consider the matter of finding your degree of excellence and reaching for that.

If you wish, you can check out my work so far.  You will notice that the work for David Wolfe is more experimental and less perfect than some of my previous work, and that the colours are fairly vibrant, depending on my mood at the time.  There are also a lot of word games involved, and a fair bit of whimsy.

I now look at this work and think it is intermediate.  This is no reflection on Wolfe, I was really seeking to demonstrate the time wasted on pointless emotion whilst creating something new out of this wasted time.  I do not like waste.  Having feelings for somebody I don’t know is a waste, therefore something had to be created.  Between the books and the pieces of artwork I have spent a lot of time on Wolfe.  It was something that I never thought I would actually get done, so I am kind of grateful for the misery.

You don’t get to seek quality unless you take a risk on your experiments, if you are trying out something new.  Therefore in order to be a master of your new direction, you have to be prepared for lemons.  I will probably sell these off at less than their value once I hit my true pitch.  I will put out the Boris collection next year probably, which is rather different and more British/rural than the Wolfe stuff, and then perhaps work on some of the more advanced Wolfe pieces if I have not found a new point of interest by then.  I think the Mrs Wolfe piece of work is likely to take up most of the next two years, as it involves a lot of changes of habit which really need to be permanent at this point.

In terms of my own public speaking, I have put out a lot of very raw readings on youtube, which I am not happy with.  My justification for this was that I don’t have a lot of time, and the audio versions are really just to get more thumbnails of my artwork onto people’s screens.  I do not think this is a good reason to put out half-assed recordings.  I think I should redo the lot and start an audio channel elsewhere to make the most of the time spent.

It is really up to you what level you want to end up pitching at.  As I was discussing earlier in the month, your popular online writers often expect to put out several articles a day on their chosen topic, therefore the weight of content and level of information dispensed is likely to be quite low.  This is more digestible, acceptable and attracts more interest, but if you are not happy to put out pulp, you might want to consider condensing your material and drawing from it later, in the same manner that I have done with the original book.  I have not really used the material, but I think I probably should as it is quite interesting work.

I wanted to be the Lalique or Tiffany of carpets, therefore I am less than halfway to my goal.  I am happy with the extent of the Wolfe phase development, but I think I could take it a lot further.  That is more about me than him,  I could get serious but I was so ashamed of having human feelings for a long time that I kind of feared taking it further.  I will see if my personal reinvention on the Mrs Wolfe project improves this somewhat. (for those not quite understanding this, I had this picture in my head of what I would have to look like to stand next to Wolfe, and I am now laughingly thinking I should shoot for it for the sake of my health, even if she is a monstrous bitch!)

I am considering attending Wolfe’s event in a niqab.  This would certainly solve the smiley problem and not be at all distracting.  I will see how I feel later next month.  I could do with the stimulation for the sake of the game also, since I am currently relying on American reports of his events for information, and this is unlikely to be strictly true in the UK, since he is in more of the upper-middle delusion (too posh for Icke) market here.

The horrible meeting is tomorrow.  I may just avoid it altogether.

Ina

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Status Seeking

Status Seeking

I had a very lucid kind of dream this morning, featuring an ex-boyfriend I would rather forget.

I have had this dream before, if you are into dream interpretation, you may have some fun with this:

I am in a coffee shop in a holiday town. I decide to buy a piece of their super expensive white chocolate and raspberry cheesecake for my mother, as it is apparently the stuff of legend. Notice that I have no intention of actually having any myself, as apparently this is important to the dream. A fight breaks out in the coffee shop as the punters are aware that I have a slice of it.

I then return to my job as a chef in a large and rather industrial kitchen, where I work for a head chef that has considerably less knowledge and experience than I do. Nevertheless I am aware of feeling quite happy as I dodge the Victorian pipes and other workers in the course of doing whatever it is that I am doing there.

After a lot of exploring the staff accomodation, which appears to be a rabbit warren, I come back to work and go through the wrong door into the public area, which is in the form of a bar. My ex, who was Raymond Blanc’s head chef many moons ago, is standing teaching a small crowd of rather daft looking people how to make sandwiches. He is waving his arms around and pretending that this is very complex, and of course with a French accent, it sounds rather more technical than putting cheese and lettuce between slices of pan bread.

He sees me, stops and then tries to belittle me. I am aware that he is jealous that I am allowed in the kitchen and he is not. This relates to reality, as when we were together he was jealous that I was getting better jobs than he was on the grounds that I was a)cheaper b)more flexible c)not famous d)unlikely to stab anyone.

To me, this dream is all about status. I have actively avoided status throughout my life. I like responsibility, but I have no interest in status. I am not sure why this is? I am very keen on seeking knowledge, I am happy to work to gain even small amounts of that, but status is not of interest.

Not only has this seriously affected my income, it has been rather sad in that I spend a lot of time thinking that people are not terribly competent. Competence certainly doesn’t relate to success, as far as I can see, at least not as much as wanting status really badly.

The cheesecake issue is about quality of care. My mother has no regard for my well-being, she has actually said as much, however she literally gets the best of everything, even whilst she complains about it. I tend to think this is her idea of having fun, since her life is rather limited. The fight in the coffee shop is people who would rather she did not have this care because they arent getting any. Therefore I think this part is me worrying about aging and how my life is going to end up as a result of caring for her.

The kitchen work element is about resolving this resistance to status, and wondering if knowledge acquisition really matters at this point in my life, since nobody is interested in knowledge anymore.

Rene turning up is likely to be about becoming a greedier and more forceful person, as Rene suffered from a kind of enforced narcissism as a result of his more genuinely narcissistic mother. I actually felt quite sorry for him even as he stamped all over my life for his own gain.

I do wonder if I have been chasing Wolfe for years because of this fear of status and willingness to drown in work for the joy of doing it. If it recovers my health, so much the better but I am a rather disruptive child when I want to know something.

I am thinking that Mrs Wolfe, the fictional character that I am creating, will not be complete by October and that I would be better to complete this project and write about it rather than bother to speak to him. To hell with the original book, nobody cares about the planet or their own welfare anyway, even the people that pretend that they do.

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