Saturday, 30 May 2015

Same forecast

Well not unless you call looking for Hohhot's red light district on Tencent Street View positive... 

I was kind of wowed by this find and went for a wander around Hohhot and Bayuquan yesterday and today.  I should be revising but I can't help doing things like searching for the best mash up combinations I can think of on YouTube.
James and I also talked about the 'Shakespeare' interview; "Or should I say Nellie?"  James said.  We're both a little bit sceptical about this one.  


Friday, 29 May 2015

Another inert day

The same old addictions.  Internet, internet, internet and Coco Pops.  Anxiety too about my upcoming 'Work Programme', job prospects- the prospect of being stuck in a job I hate- my inability to get my head down and REVISE.  I'm trying to think of something I've done today that is positive.  I'll let you know tomorrow.

Thursday, 28 May 2015

Busy but not productive

I'm supposed to be revising but today I've mainly been preoccupied with Erik and the celebrities he tees up for Jamie to channel.  This morning I sent Brian May a link to this alleged 'Freddie Mercury' interview, spent ages wrapping a parcel that I had to take back home back home anyway because it was 120 g too heavy, had a wank, listened to the 'J.F.K' interview with Elisa Medhus and sent Elisa some feedback on the 'Shakespeare' interview she posted today.  I didn't say anything to upset her, because I imagine she's quite sensitive, but I wasn't blown away by it.  It's not the usual medium, Jamie, who seems to be the real deal or a genius and it shows.  As I said to her, Jamie's encounters have a tone, syntax and naturalness to them and the voice of the personality shines through.

I should perhaps note that to me it's not as simple as, Jamie is fake or the person the other end of the line is real.  There could be other options like this is a personality simulated by advanced technology in another dimension or things I can't imagine.  I dig the messages that are coming through, anyway.  J.F.K's advice about taking responsibility and being the change you want to see (he acknowledged it was a quote from Ghandi) to the person on the bus or in line really resonated with me because this is what my life is.  It's not glamorous, it comes down to these people here in Margate I feel no connection with, who I'm not that interested in and who aren't interested in me.  But if not them, then who?  As J.F.K reminded me, there is a story in every pair of eyes.

My bit today, I exchanged a couple of sentences with a human being, noting that the librarian usually worked at Westgate.  She said yes, but I work here on occasion.  End of conversation. 

Wednesday, 27 May 2015

Making the day count

On Oct 3rd I'll be launching James 2.0.  The healthier, wealthier and wiser James, the kinder, more responsible, more proactive version.  In order to make sure I hit the ground running for my 40th I'm trying to get everything in place before then.  Things as they stand look pretty bleak or even quite wonderful, depending on how one looks at it.  I think a lot, including my mother, would be quite condemnatory. Judging by the last time I had sex, the rest of the opposite sex are equally unimpressed.  Me, I don't know.  I don't know where it's all going.  A book deal, an album, a trip around the solar system or slow decline in bedsit land.

At least I have experience on my side... 

This morning I went to a volunteer induction at Dreamland, which is opening on June 19th.  There were about thirty of us at least- they had a job finding enough chairs-and a good cross section.   A break dancer who reminded me of Richard Priory, an ex prison-officer, a few epileptics, a Polish woman and a supply teacher called James (not me).  They rolled on the paid Dreamlanders, and the head of Entertainment, a thesp 40 years young, bounced round telling us that the volunteers were more valuable than they were.  Then they waltzed out the dark and draughty old cinema we were sat in, whooping and hollering and probably quite thrilled that they weren't volunteers.

Although we were made to feel like individuals nobody asked what I could do so I had a word with one of them who directed me to the website.  When I got home I duly sent my CV with possibly the best covering letter written in Margate this year. 

I had a couple of exchanges on WeChat with James, telling him that I have a plane ticket and a plan to be in China for my birthday.  He kindly offered to put me up.  Then I had a siesta in the afternoon to make up for not getting my eight hours.  I tend to have unpleasant dreams during this time and I met a very unpleasant aggressive person who appeared to utterly hate me.  The strange thing was, this was basically me staring into the depths of my subconscious.

This afternoon I went down collect some mail from the mail office in Union Street.  I noticed a young, heavily tattooed man crouching down by a girl on the steps of the Salvation Army church.  He called to me so I stopped and he told me a story about his dog being attacked and having no electricity.  I went to collect my mail and then came back and had a look at the dog, a pitbull which was bleeding badly behind the ear and appeared to have a wound that needed stitches. I suggested calling the RSPCA as he had no money but he said they'd take the dog away from him.  Good point.

I said we'd need to go to the cash machine but when the dog followed us, he started limping.  I suggested he carry the dog and he told me he wasn't being rude but he knew his dog, which was fine and was actually about to break into a sprint (or words to that effect).  But in fact the dog carried on limping.  He and his girlfriend followed me down to Morrisons and waited whilst I did a very quick shop so I could get some cashback.  When I handed him some taxpayer's cash (i.e my benefit money) for his electricity his dog jumped at me and started barking.  Then his girlfriend started telling the dog off, but of course he was trying to protect her.

I crossed the road and just on the corner of the square a woman asked me "You haven't got a quid, have yer?"  I came over all very middle class.

"Sorry, I haven't." And I really hadn't so fortunately I didn't have to go through the anguish of saying no and feeling guilty or being a quid poorer.  The woman didn't seem to mind, which was nice.