What About Me?

Recent posts have been whiny and critical of other people. I dont want to give the impression that I think I am in any way perfect or without reproach. I can accept that the Fae have their devotees and that few people seem to take the friend I criticised as seriously as I do: it is not uncommon for family members not to inform them of things for fear of their legendary capacity to overreact.

It is hard for me to accept not having a creative, or management focus to my life when that has been a cornerstone of my being for so long. In some ways I am experiencing a sort of inertia where considerable emotional energy is being expended to little tangible use. I am used to not complaining about my 'lot' but that hasn't stopped me being critical of some of the people I encounter. I know I am much better off than many people I know and that I have much less reason to whine, but you've got to be good at something!

There is A LOT of work to be done on me at the moment! For the most part I know both the problem and the solution but still fail to make the crucial connections to make change happen. My health would improve if I made more use of the excercise equipment I have other than to furnish a room. -I know that several benefits will flow from me actually starting regular exercise again but by the end of each day I find myself wondering why I haven't actually done anything. The same applies to my writing: I haven't finished writing a play in THIRTY YEARS!!! I've written hundreds of reports and plans and that sort of thing but none of the things I really enjoyed making. Yet the action of writing pleases me hugely. I love the actual process of my thoughts travelling through my fingers to the keyboard and the screen. This Blog is a step in the right direction, I am getting used to making the time to write. 

I'd been becoming reclusive before 'Lockdown'... Well; not exactly 'reclusive' but bored with what was on offer in Newcastle. It really started when I was being underpaid working for Durham; I enjoyed the job (at least initially) and just got on with it even though I found myself struggling to buy the petrol to fuel the 330 miles of commuting to get to and from the job each week let alone to service and maintain the car. So I stopped wasting cash on the same old same old in Newcastle's tired gay bars and nothing attracts me back yet. I've also realised, or 'remembered' more likely, how different I am to most of the homosexualists I've met in Newcastle. I crave community and can see the benefits, most gays I've met here have no interest or understanding and see such ideas as "political". I remember talking to an older guy about that who said he thought it was something from the days when people were blackmailed and intimidated for their homosexuality; there was a Gay Scene, but it was quiet and if they experienced anything bad they just accepted it as there really wasn't anyone who would help. He thinks Newcastle gays just got used to accepting whatever they got and still don't expect much. I rejoice in a more spiritual experience which, when shared with Toon queens earns "hippy weirdo" epithets. The Newcastle scene has always struck me as quite juvenile; it is about drinking and sex. I'm no prude but, 'been there, done that'!

Luckily, I love my home! I am there a lot and enjoy keeping it sorted. Now my shower is finally working, for the first time since I've lived here I can press a button and step into a warm shower without the tweaking and waiting and wasting water and cursing that has accompanied previous shower experiences here. Luxury! The tenants are OK. The quieter one got his college results and has excelled, I am very happy that his final year at college is assured. The other one is slightly more problematic: I have no doubt he will be able to look after himself when the time comes as he is very independent already, my fears for him are from external government agencies. There is something amusingly arrogant about a 19 year old who really thinks he knows more than a hoary sextugenarian and sometimes speaks to me through a faintly-hidden smirk. It doesn't bother me too much, I usually allow him to hoist his own petard and take the mickey out of him.

I'm really looking forward to becoming a foster parent. They're keen to place really difficult teens with me as they're confident I could handle it. I have told them that I'd like the opportunity to assess each opportunity for its own merits/demerits. I also realise that my aim is to deliver lasting positive change in the lives of my charges and that will be easier with younger children. It is unlikely I'll be assigned a real youngster, but I have let them know that I would be wiling.