It's now Friday evening. I've been without a computer since Wednesday morning and it's been hell, it really has. I did know how much I rely on the old chap (who actually isn't that old) but the extent of my frustration surprised even me.
I found several historical documentaries to watch on the TV, and found them as full of speculation disguised as certainty as they've always been. I watched an episode of a favourite old TV sitcom which I've seen so many times I almost know the script. And I found an American real-life-ghost-stories shows which was tedious as hell (or maybe it just seemed that way because that's where I was at the time.)
Late at night I was reduced to listening to old albums on my crappy old audio unit, which brought back a few memories but lacked the quality of YouTube-with-headphones. And there were no visuals to compliment the musical experience. Oddly, I drank less beer but more scotch. I wonder why that was. As I said, hell on earth.
Yesterday I became very cross when the receptionist at the repair place told me my computer hadn't even been looked at yet because 'everybody was away on call-outs.' I was less than polite to her, poor thing, and I discovered something about myself in the process: when I get cross, I exhibit psychopathic tendencies. Fortunately they don't last long, and then I'm really, really sorry because I realise she's probably a very nice person who just happened to say the wrong thing quite innocently. But that's the problem with psychopaths: they're congenitally inclined to shoot messengers and be utterly intolerant of anything less than perfection. I met the receptionist today. She's small and pretty, a fact which I might turn into a post later.
And therein lies my problem. Now I need to catch up, but I've forgotten all the posts I wrote in my head while languishing in the hungry ghost realm. I suppose I could mention the llamas...
More later maybe.
(Oh, and I discovered something about the Lady Bella. Remember her? And I noticed that nobody asked me whether I'd died.)
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...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
About Me
- JJ
- Ashbourne, Derbyshire, United Kingdom
- I've never had money because I've never been driven by money. I received little formal education beyond the age of sixteen, which isn't such a bad thing since you get a different angle on life that way. Learning what you want and need to learn often reveals things that the system's road keeps hidden.
BOOKS
Anyone interested in viewing the availablity of my novel Odyssey or novella The Gift Horse can do so here.
To Be Retained...
...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
Khalil Gibran on Children.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
OMAR KAYYAM ON REGRET.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
Herman Hess on Nobility
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
Free Fiction
I have another blog called A Handful of Stories on which I've posted some of my short fiction. Most of it has been published by a variety of independent small press publishers, so somebody other than me must have thought it worth reading.
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- Contemplating the Last Focus.
- Missing a Component.
- One of Life's Imperfections.
- Where Captain Hook Went Wrong.
- Becoming Quasimodo.
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- Laying the Amethyst Ghost.
- On Potty Politicians.
- Envying the Land of the Free.
- A Novel Discovery.
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- Where Was I?
- Savouring a Sea Dog's Blushes.
- To Do With Advancing Years.
- An Anxious Time.
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- The Capricious and the Charming.
- Eerie Eastern Ears.
- When Magic Turns Sour.
- Predictable.
- Questioning Procreation.
- On the Poor Dying Earlier.
- Interfering.
- Some Girly Trivia.
- Abeying Beltane.
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All the permanent pictures and some of the posted ones on this blog are my copyright. Most of them, however, are placed with a picture library which holds the licensing rights. I don't, therefore, have the legal right to grant permission to use them.
An Inhabitant of the Hungry Ghost Realm
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
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When everything that is illusion is removed, all that remains is consciousness.
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