The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

'Nobody is made to be a loner by a group or establishment...' was said to me.

And, it made me think.



...bullied in both schools, then prison, for selling cannabis; one relationship and then a job didn't help. It's a defence mechanism I know...

It's why I did a confidence class and is in part why I'm here...



And it doesn't help that I dwell on what I'm taking onboard, hence this.

I saw Underworld Evolution.

To be recomended.



*



... and, my Mother's out of hospital.

I just loved hearing the parents chunnering as they do early morning, as I left for work...

~ just seemed, right... y'know?

I came here to be an individual amongst indiviuals.



The house system scare me.

It reminds me of Earl House, which I was coerced into.



The house system is in part what made me the loner I became...



But, I came here to be an individual amongst indiviuals.

As I write this I am still in analysis mode, as I sit on the train writing as ‘normal.’

Writing of my own emotions in a way I was able to with someone face to face.

Yet, at least I can write, I guess.

My Mother is in hospital. She went in Tuesday last and I still recall the panic I had felt upon returning home to find everywhere deserted. And as I’d closed the curtain and turned lights on and tidied around, I’d realized that my parents had left quickly, as so many items of use had obviously still been in use just before they left.



And it strikes me as insane that I’m following the routine of the day, it really does.

But, I’m doing so, for my Father, who worries for me; and who’s currently worrying for my Mother, his wife.

And, as it was so important to me that’s she was better for her birthday I’d not visited, as she coughs so much when she talks.

And then the hospital got her medication wrong and she came out in a rash…

And talking of visiting, Cecilia, the lady whom I’ve grown close to couldn’t understand why I’d not visited. Thing is, it’s simple, my parents are a couple.

It’s not that I’m in the way. But, I also know that given the chance, she’d welcome a visit from me. Yet, that’s not the point really.



As I say… they’re a couple and for me, that means that he is the one she needs there for her now.

Oh, I know what’s needed for now: an easy life for my Father, who’s earned it, a thousand times over, for all he does. And so, to please him, I catch the train to Liverpool, following ‘the routine of the day.’

My friend John has just left and I’m pleased he called: and I’ll explain why.

Well, to start with, it’d been busy at work, doing a multitude of tasks as I tried to satisfy a thousand peoples needs. Well, that’s how it felt anyway way.

And right now I’m near the edge and feel like I’m cracking and I’m waiting for a call from my Dad and the phone hasn’t rung, yet.

And as you might’ve surmised, I’m analyzing everything as I type and dwell… but, I’m get there… ‘coz it’s only 21:37 and there’s plenty of time, to think.

Anyway, where was ?I hear the garage door, it’s my Dad.

Talk later… and yeah, it was Dad. He’s just got in. He’s cooking and I’m writing.

It’s become important… and yeah… “shut up Neil.”

And I’d been going to tell you of little achievement with a practice manager, who has realized that I can do what the others said they could and didn’t, which had been good for my ego… and then I’d started home, getting caught in the melee of people, all of whom were looking as confused as I must have felt. Aye, British Rail had got me.

And that’d been it, except that on the way to Central I’d acquired a double of whiskey, which had warmed a cockle… prior to journeying onward.

He’s cooked soup… and I’m being polite. I’ll return. Hmmm… poor Arnie!?!

An, Radio Merseyside is on to provide some more distraction.

And there had been my Dad and I sitting before one another and he’d more concerning about me eating the steak that has been left for than himself.

I’d got home and the curtains had been partially closed and the house deserted and my mind is clear of the memory of that first moments of panic.

My heart had been beating fast and I’d looked for clues... my brain more rational than I’d felt.

The phone telephone organizers slider was left at S for surgery and my Dad had the car out… yet my Ma’s things on the table and suchlike were left as though she’d just left them: even down to glass of honey and lemon, half-finished, to her right.

And panic-struck and waited , a myriad thoughts carousing through my head.

John my friend had called, which had been a welcome distraction.

And, once he had gone and I’d had a coffee I had phoned Cecilia, who had been waiting for me to phone.... anxiety over my lateness she had had explained in her inimitable South American way, which had changed when I had explained my anxiety at the news of my Mother being in hospital, at Arrowe Park Hospital… on oxygen… which I’d forgotten to say.

I’d learned that from my Dad, as he’d phoned shortly after John had left.

My mind is slow, fragmented… and I actually do realize that I was heading for shock, until I found adequate distraction.

And I want her to be okay for Friday and her birthday… and my typings is anhorrant and this is helping… to write… and what did Oscar say? Don’t write anything you wouldn’t want read? Well, this is a now. I don’t like it. But it’s a now. So I’ll share but… it had good to hear Celcia wish me a hug. I’ve only known her awhile and it had touched me..

And as I listen to our local Radio Merseyside I know that my Fathers is sitting in the front room waiting for me to pass him and enter the kitchen to cook the steak, as he knows that he knows his wife, my Mother would also be worrying for me… and meanwhile… I’d not gone to the hospital, as I’d known that they’re a couple whom I’d have intruded upon with my presence.

They’ve grown old together, very much in Love and Mama Cass in singing and I’ll finish in a second as my mood is a little lighter… but, you know I do envy my Father in a way.

Just for what they have shared together… you know… real Love… and he’s just entered the back room where I’m sitting and reminded me that I should eat before it’s to late... and it’s work tomorrow… remember? And I’m being polite, so will finish. “Goodnight.”

On Friday morning I heard Ruth Bullen speaking on the radio – and my ears pricked up. You see, whereas I agreed with much of what she had to say; I had disagreed with her definition of the word successful: particularly after she had described Jane Goody and Jodie Marsh as ‘successful.’

Yet, she hadn’t said what either of them was successful at.

Grant you, I know she was talking of teenager’s perceptions: in that she was saying they perceive being a ‘celebrity’ as being successful.

Yet even so, they are successful at… what?

I mean, take Jodie Marsh for example!?!

In the celebrity Big Brother house she’s shown just how desperate for attention she actually is… and for this she is venerated, just like many other so-called celebrities. That doesn’t fit with any definition of the word successful that I’m aware of ~ or, perhaps my command of words isn’t what it could be!?! Perhaps?

You see, I would seriously question the definition of the word as used in context on Friday, as you’ve gathered; but further, I would also question the society that considers the individuals in the Big Brother house as successful; as well as the value systems of those who use are able to use it in this context.

But perhaps asking such inane questions isn’t needed now, in this age of the cult of ‘celebrity.’

...my Mother havin a bad chest is one thing.

Then my Dad and myself... and well, at least she's got colour to her cheeks and is tellin me off again... well cool.

My Mum’s chest is bad. The weather has changed again & first her catarrh went bad like mine does now; but then she’d got this chest infection, which just got bad. And toward the end of the other night she’d asked me “Did you enjoy Christmas?” And I had, because of her: and I’ve told her so.

I’d told her that I’d had the Christmas I’d wanted: a quiet family Christmas, with those whose company I wanted to enjoy – while I can.

Whiskey in the early hours can lead to some ‘interesting’ thoughts, which viewed in the light of day can make for an equally out of the ordinary read, I think.

For instance, this morning I found this ~



“Is the New Year a metaphysical state of being, or simply a creation of man’s need to measure time?”