Outing #54: Mmm 🎹

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Day 1 – Sunday, 1 July 2018

Now I’ve pointed-out the looming elephant in the room further down, I’ve got to write about the less pressing victory regarding the grand piano in the church.

At the uniting church, there’s just over a handful of congregation who still attend actual services every Sunday, most in their 80s and none younger than 60.

Before Rosa came along with Earth Recovery Australia and the Uniting Church to use the property as a charity, food-bank and to assist the homeless, the parishioners had a lot more say in the day to day running of the place, but with dwindling funds the church committee wanted the place closed and sold: 142 Katoomba Street was costing money to keep open and with only six regular church-goers income was pretty much nil.

Along came Earth Recovery Australia and Rosa – their allocated worker for the Blue Mountains who has somehow managed to transform the church into a profit-making charity, and she’s the reason it’s not been sold and turned into another shitty tourist attraction years ago.

See now, I’m at Mandy’s trying to write this yet cannot concentrate because all I can fucking hear is the constant squealing and demands from the bathroom: he won’t even brush his own hair because he’s busy screaming at his mother to do it, at nearly 10.

This is every night: the only way to get enough peace to concentrate on ANYTHING is to leave: the main street in town on a weekend is more peaceful than here, and Mandy cannot focus on anything the whole time he’s home either.

Makes her seem like a bimbo and makes both our brains shrink.

Even Forest Gump could brush his own hair without screeching for some gimp to come and do it for him.

Day 2 – Monday, 2 July 2018

Okay I’m going to the library today to update this and send my resume out, just waiting for my phone and vaporizers to charge.

11:24 AM

Alright firstly there’s a level of tension going on domestically because there’s a sizable elephant in the room that doesn’t look easily rectified.

Daniel has been better behaved in the last week or so – comparatively – but even on a good day he acts like a spoilt two year old and nobody wants to spend an hour with him – let alone from 1:00 – 8:30 PM every day plus all weekend.

I avoid even being in the same room as him: even when he’s not abusing his mother or using her like a punching bag he’s still the most unpleasant person I’ve ever met.

How’s that going to be resolved?

After a decade, we all know a childs personality is set, and Daniels personality is like rancid meat at 9.

The elephant in question is that if Mandy’s raised him herself for almost 10 years, how is Mandy going to change it? And why now?

If her motivation for being slightly tougher on him is only starting now to keep me from leaving, well surely she’d have had the inclination to stop him walking all over her years ago, and if not, why not?

There’s an underlying issue of low self worth in Mandy that could very well be as fixed in her as the tantrums are in him, and telling him to get his own drink here and there isn’t going to fix shit: he knows he’s just gotta play along a while until it’s back to how it was.

I have no idea what to do, but I know I cannot spend my life shoving some kid to the floor because he’s pulled a frypan or a knife on one of us; nor watching him kick and punch his mother up and down the street screaming what a fuckhead and a slut she is because the spoilt tosser wants something right now.

Home is meant to be a place you go back to to relax and recharge; not an environment that’s constantly thick with tension and the cat’s still being abused a hundred times a day by the child, who hurts the cat more when Mandy switches her attention to anything but him for even a few moments.

We’re meant to just ignore that, the cat growling, hissing and trying to hide under the bed only to be dragged out my it’s feet and used as a sick prop again: because Dan comes first, so everyone else can just suffer for the special kid?

Fuck that.

Of course Mandy tells him to leave the cat alone but he just ignores her, and if she tries to put her foot down he’ll just have himself a screaming fit and throw things at her for twenty minutes; right before going back in her room and dragging the animal out from under the bed where it’s hiding – yet again, and again, and again: every half hour, every morning, every night, all weekend.

Mandy loves the cat, and it’s a lovely cat, but the cat has to go for its own welfare and so we’ve got one more nice thing ruined by the little wanker.

I would never bring an animal into a house with him in it. No fuckin way.

I can’t kill him, I can’t vanish him and I cannot see my quality of life leeched away by a human-being so defective he’ll still be acting like a toddler when he’s in his twenties.

I was going to write about the piano, but Mandy was here to print tickets to Queensland for the school holidays so I went up to help her select the library printer, then started getting angry: without the nasty child, Mandy would be amazing and yet the child is a reflection of her, and her willingness to just accept being treated like shit.

She’s got an appointment with teachers today: Daniel’s so ‘special’, he’ll be changing to a ‘special school’ in Blaxland, but I’m sure he’ll scream everyones ears off every day until she gets on a train shaking and jittery to go down and pick him up early for months to come, because we wouldn’t want someone who constantly inflicts unpleasantness on everyone else to experience any unpleasantness themself, you understand.

He’ll be screaming his ears off today no doubt: today he finds out he’s changing schools.

Maybe if he hadn’t acted like a fucking idiot at Katoomba Public, he wouldn’t have to change? *shrug* that’s his problem.

And yes, we’ll get ten days peace without him while he’s in Queensland for the upcoming holidays, but he’ll be back: slapping her tits and punching her arse in the main street and sexually harassing teenage girls and tourists at 9 years of age, while Mandy rolls her eyes and acts like gosh, that’s just Daniel and dang what can ya do.

None of it’s amusing: nothing about Daniel is remotely amusing and I’ve never seen anyone manage a laugh while he’s been there.

Even if he were a high-functioning autistic gifted with some talent he’d still be a black spot, but he’s not high functioning: he bashes matchbox cars together, still wears a little kids onesy and rides a toddlers plastic trike in public – it’s just pathetic.

People leave the room to rid themselves of him: at school, at the church, everywhere, because everyone hates him because he’s a dickhead.

I should say that Mandy does everything to keep it together, but even after he’s gone to bed she’s tense, on-edge, restless and a nervous wreck and pretending to be relaxed doesn’t work because she’s not: moves her legs and changes her position every five seconds to the point I snapped at her last night – asked her to stop fucking moving continually and keep still.

This is after a few weeks mind you, how’s that going to work long-term? Mandy and I will be 70 by the time shrinks and social workers do anything and he’ll never grow-up: there’ll be no graduation or university or wedding or anything to look forward to, just days that “aren’t as bad” here and there – forever.

All while the defective dick he came out of is in Queensland living a charmed life with whatever normal kids and woman he’s got not fucking every day.

I’m starting to get headaches myself from stressing over it, and – still in the library – I feel sick: don’t know whether to stay or go or even get out of my chair.

I’ll come back and hug you in a bit because it’s all I can think to do xo

Maybe the house and school will improve quality of life so I’ll pace myself for now Honey and see how we go, but promising happily-ever-after isn’t so doable when one defective, mentally ill naught is always here draining everyones’ happiness before it has a chance to start.

The factor I haven’t accounted for here of course is that I’ve spent most nights there for the past month or so, which makes for a pretty intense introduction into her life.

But the elephant remains: whatever internal mechanics drive Mandy to accept living every day being beaten and abused by a kid where any other parent would’ve just slapped him down years ago, does not exist in me: I won’t waste the only life I get miserable and struggling for anyone – certainly not for that xo

For now though we’ll just call this a bad mood or a flat day or whatever you like and do the best we can because while I won’t settle for a life of tension and stress, I also can’t just leave you standing there xo

Day 3 – Tuesday, 3 July 2018

?????

2:11 PM

Okay, today I learnt the bridge to the song, plus played around with it a bit: I’ve only learnt the chords to the song so I’ve got to arrange the notes myself, but here’s what I’ve done ..

Here’s the chicken pie Mandy made, and we had it reheated last night because there’s a fair bit to eat and still two containers in the fridge to be eaten yet.

It was excellent, with the zucchini being my only non-like: cooked zucchini is very watery ?❀

The morning started at about 7:00 AM with Mandy taking her son to the new school so they left early, and she’s told me he’s been excellent so that’s good.

I got up about half an hour later and had a shower, then coffees, then left for the church to learn the above section of song, and did, though the timings a bit sloppy.

Bitter-Bronwyn got there shortly after I did, but didn’t say a word and locked the hall door behind her, forcing her own church buddies to have to knock to be let in πŸ™‚

Must be feeling antisocial πŸ™‚

Pam said she was acting strangely, but that’s a non-event now she’s been put back in her place I didn’t even go in the hall to see how many people turned-up for the morning tea, which I’d planned on doing but forgot.

Brian was there – propped-up against the wall outside the hall. I told him he looked tired as I walked past but didn’t get sucked into waiting for his mumbled reply – that’s how old Brian gets you: whisper his answer so you’ve gotta stop and ask him to speak up, but not today Brian ?

3:00 PM

I’ve just come back up from the toilets at Coles, where an old woman with a walking frame wasn’t quick enough to beat me to the bathroom. In my defense, she just stood there too long: the disabled toilet was occupied so she was just standing there like she didn’t know what to do now, while I already knew I’d use that toilet but the look on her face when I closed the door.

I’ll do pasta later with those cherry tomatoes ?❀

That fucking Adrian – he’s been in and out the library about five times in an hour: jittering past with his manky beanie and scaly skin and dragging that manky woman’s grocery trolley behind him.

I was talking with Mandy about Adrian last night; how Chicken-wing has had the hots for him for years, but Adrian keeps rejecting her.

That turned into a discussion about how horrible I am for using a physical deformity as a tag for someone, but both Mandy and Toni knew who I was taking about the first time I referred to her as Chicken-wing which supported my argument: that it may not be the kindest way to identify someone, but it’s the most efficient.

We also talked about the cat, and how that whole “look at pussums” thing can just stop right there: the animal not only remains a cat, but the exact same cat every time I look at her and I do not need to look at it repeatedly.

“If the cat starts knitting, starts speaking english or turns into another animal or some shit then point that out to me, but as long as it’s the same cat it was an hour ago I don’t need to check again Honey xo”

I continued to explain how my grandmother did the same thing with all her animals: she’d be in the middle of a conversation with a roomful of people and interrupt everyone to demand they acknowledge how beautiful the dog is.

Used to drive us mental – every half hour having to stop conversation to pay attention to a dog or cat that’s sleeping anyway. 

“Maybe we can commission an artist to paint a massive portrait of the cat and pay homage to her before meals: like a cat version of the supreme leader.”

“Oh look, Captain Fuckwitt is here!”

“I’m just worried my eyes aren’t worthy of the visual splendor that is your cat :)”

Day 4 – Wednesday, 4 July 2018

Piano and coffee this morning, then I’ve gotta get those two boxes in the lockers at TAFE, then take them back to Mandy’s then go and deal with the bag of anxiety that is the only customer I’ve still got.

Mandy’s gone to Blacktown for an appointment with another useless pediatrician who’ll give her so called “strategies” they wouldn’t implement themselves for dealing with a brain damaged kid.

See again tonight it’ll be a feast of stress with the cat being shaken and slammed on the bed while mum tells him a hundred ‘last times’ to put the cat down while it’s hissing and growling because it hates the child.

The cat can’t even hide because it’s locked inside.

Two options exist I can see:

a) Daniel stays at his fathers’ when he goes there because his father can control him fine – if Daniel wants to get himself suspended or expelled from multiple schools, tough shit for him – it’s Dads’ problem.

b) Mandy calls me when she’s got a less toxic environment free of both animal cruelty and the indignity inflicted on everyone by her son.

There’s consequences for being an arsehat and the sooner her learns that the better off he’ll be.

Maybe an option c) exists, but I’m unsure what it is: only visiting while the kid’s gone or asleep is hardly a relationship.

Oh, here’s what I ended-up cooking last night..

We’ll just call that a tomato-based pasta. Very good but more filling than the sour cream meal I cooked the other night. Great sauce though.

Day 5 – Thursday, 5 July 2018

I went back to Mandys’ last night and explained the only two logical solutions for how messed-up her kid and her are, and more or less eliminated the second option because telling her to fix it then call me is just the relationship version of a fairweather-friend.

She debated a few minutes rationally before her face gave way and she burst into tears in front of me, then asked if we could please just stay together for the 10 days while Daniels away for the holidays.

Of course my heart split in half so I wrapped my arms around her and told her I loved her: that I’m sure we can be together longer than that ❀❀❀

Looks like a strange photo without any context: I was brushing her hair and scooped-up a 60s beehive πŸ™‚

3:35 PM

Okay I’m at the library with an iced coffee made with milk I had to snatch off Takeli – ironically because she was trying to snatch it off me because there was apparently another carton open.

I’d already started opening the new litre of milk I was holding when this bitch grabs the carton starts pulling it out of my hands: first gently then harder for a moment before I just squeezed the Zymil cartoon and ripped it out of her hands.

“You don’t just fuckin snatch shit. Fuck me dead.”

Old-Brian was there shortly after as I was walking out the staff kitchen and he looked like an undead: hair all over the place, sores and scabs on his face, hunched over against the door frame.

“Morning Brian.”, I tell him as I approach the door, ” Wow, you look like shit.”

‘I’m sorry you’ll have to speak up I can’t.. I can’t.. I can’t..”

“YOU LOOK TERRIBLE BRIAN.”

More terrible than Muriel.

‘Oh. Yes. Well, I have been.. rather busy’

He wanted to speak to Rosa about something anyway so I went and found her for him then left them to it.

That was this morning.

About an hour ago Rosa’s come in to tell me Brian wants to talk to me about something, so I leave the piano and go outside to talk to him.

Turns out he wants his apartment cleaned and would pay me, so I say sure, but then he tells me he needs it finished today.

“It’s three in the afternoon Brian how am I going to clean a flat today. And how can I say yes without any idea what state it’s in: you’ve been living there for years? Decades?”

He starts getting frustrated at that.

‘Yes. Yes I KNOW that I understand, but it HAS to be done TODAY’

“Mm yeah no Brian not on zero notice at this time. I can do it tomorrow, but there’s not enough time left today for an end-of-lease clean.”

He could’ve at least asked me this morning when he was here at 10:00 AM or so talking to Rosa: I’m pretty sure he would’ve known then he needed it cleaned.

Ahlei suggested maybe he just forgot, but who’s fault is that right?

Sometime today I helped Maria with a wardrobe she wanted on stage: she’d spent the whole day up there moving and clearing crap and made a space for the wardrobe plus there’s floor you can walk on up there now soI helped move it and screwed the door back on.

Day 6 – Friday, 6 July 2018

This morning I’m lumbered with the money bag and pinned to the op-shop – but since there’s nobody else here I’m not too bothered.

Matter of fact, I’ll habe another look in the office Rosa isn’t here: two weeks ago I looked but found none of my stuff, and she got a bit annoyed that I’d messed up her .. well the office is already a tip but I moved things Rosa got a bit OCD about it πŸ™‚

Mandy’s gone to Sydney to take the child to the airport this morning: 10 glorious daniel-free days ???

Said she usually goes op-shopping in the city when she’s there, and she can since she doesn’t have to rush home to the kid today xo

8:04 PM

If all these sanitizers and even bleach kills 99.9% of germs, what are the germs make up the 0.1%? And how can they know it’s 0.1% on the nose?

And while I’m here, do garlic flowers taste like garlic? Super-garlic? Or no taste at all?

I really wanna know the 99.9% germ thing though.

Here’s dinner tonight anyhoo: a creamy tomato vegetarian meal with fresh chopped tomato and parsley tossed through after cooking.

Tasted as good as it looks too πŸ™‚

Day 7 – Saturday, 7 July 2018

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Day 8 – Sunday, 8 July 2018

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Day 11 – Wednesday, 11 July 2018

Goodness what a busy couple of days.

Since the bushwalk it’s been moving and cleaning the new house. The windows are done barr one.

Day 12 – Thursday, 12 July 2018

Mandy’s dad’s been up helping move and the removalists come tomorrow, but today we’re taking the cat over to get herself familiarized with the new house so it’s going to be quite the adventure for the animal today πŸ˜‰

Her dad’s going back to Canberra today too, so we’ll get a few days of relative peace to unpack and sort the new house.

*…

The cat is getting along just fine though seems too into being under the house for prolonged periods.

*…

Day 13 – Friday, 13 July 2018

Again today was mostly too busy to write, though Monday is the last day to hand back the unit keys for whoever rents it next so the moving is almost finished.

Still, we started packing, carrying boxes down the stairs and moving carloads of shit with her father from Monday right through to yesterday when he went back to Canberra at about lunch, then the removalists came and all the furniture and even more bags and boxes of shit most of the day today.

The house also needed cleaning and the back yard was so packed with dead shit, I’ve been running the fire all afternoon and all night for the past two days mostly with wood I’ve found in the yard and there’s still plenty left out there to saw into chunks later.

We’ve discovered who the previous tenant was, and so happens to be one of the ‘patrons’ of the free Sunday lunch..

Astonishingly unattractive woman, and I’m quite sure she was the one squawking about all men being rapists and not being able to walk ten feet from katoomba station without being raped: to Brian, loud as she could, at a packed Sunday lunch making a scene in front of 60-odd people.

The neighbor next door here at the house had already told us the woman could regularly be heard shouting at nobody from inside the house. Of course the woman was a hoarder too, and fat, goodness, yes.

Fat enough to have cankles.

Anyhow I’ve discovered my favorite fireplace utensil: a kinda cone-shaped grill of cast iron that sits over the coals without the need to place food in direct contact of the embers. It was here already along with some pokers and other cast iron stuff.

Not only did I cook the garlic bread on it tonight, I cooked myself a banana with sugar, butter, chocolate and a few caramel chews all wrapped in foil that turned out exceptionally good, and the garlic bread had a nice smokey/toasted taste to the crust..

Reaaally wanted a dollop of thickened cream to go on it but the two creams we have are frozen.

Day 14 – Saturday, 14 July 2018

Garden clearing and firewood collecting today. I’ve learnt that pine bark makes exceptional slow-burning kindling because there’s a massive pine in the back yard and decided to chisel some off and see how it burns.

Burns very well indeed πŸ™‚

*…

Day 15 – Sunday, 15 July 2018

I’ll make this outing a full month because The days coincide perfectly with the date so it’s easier than starting a new post.

The spoilt little tosspot will be back from ‘Dah-dahs’ in another two days and nobody will want to live here, just like at the flat.

Last few days has been non stop moving and work so there might be one day to relax before the ever-delicate Daniel and his ever-delicate Mah-mah are reunited and the ear-splitting screaming can commence.

What a fuckin’ life to look forward to right?

Not me: I won’t tolerate being mentally sluggish and depressed because of any man, woman or child.

Period.

Mandy’s been pretty much constantly insecure of course because she knows she’s shot herself in the foot with the kid and he’s – overall – an unbearable excuse for a human being and nobody wants to live with tension the rest of their lives.

Mandy also doesn’t want him but she’ll be stuck in her but I gave birth to him rubbish until she’s drugged to the eyeballs in a psych ward.

What can you do?

We’ve had some nice moments while he’s been gone but most of it’s been either working or small talk about the cat.

Neither of us wants to mention this house isn’t mine and mandy’s: like everything it’ll be all about an autistic kid I don’t give a shit about.

So long term this can’t be my place and I am still effectively homeless – no matter how many shrubs I trim or fires I light.

*…

.. desert tonight was a fire-cooked banana with brown sugar and butter with a dollop of thickened cream. Excellent too.

Day 16 – Monday, 16 July 2018

Okay so I’m at the flat taking a final look at the view while I write this and wait for the DHL courier to deliver my package: I ordered flavour concentrates this week to go with the unflavored nicotine liquid I have, so I can mix my own rather than pay $50 for 60mL of eliquid I may or may-not like.

We’ve both been here finishing the cleaning at the flat and Mandy’s gone with a trolley-load of the bits and pieces back to the house.

In the 10 days her kid’s been away we’ve had about a total of one hour relaxation that’s been scattered here and there throughout the week, and now the kids coming back she’s having herself a 24-hour-a-day anxiety attack.

Like, just fuckin’ relax: stressing about shit never made anything any better.

What will make it better is baked pears with butter and sugar for dessert tonight, since Mandy doesn’t like bananas she’s missed out on the awesome fire-stewed desserts, so I’m changing fruit so she can have desert too.

Problem is, when somebody’s as stressed and depressed as she is they just complain and mope around creating their own self-fulfilling prophecy of doom and gloom.

Personally, I’m just fuckin happy the house can be warmed and the ordeal of moving a million things is finally done and the house is warm and decent sized; you’d think Mandy would be similarly pleased: she’s had both her father and me spend the past week lugging all her shit back and forwards, cleaning and I’ve singlehandedly cleared the garden of overgrowth almost entirely with just shears and a rake plus cook something for us to eat each night we’ve been at the house.

And naturally I don’t care much for chitter chatter at the end of the day when I’ve spent the entire day with, well anyone really.

Oop.. DHL guy’s here …

“Bro! Why you takin’ a photo of the tru.. Wait I know you!!”

Day 17 – Tuesday, 17 July 2018

Okay while Mandy’s in the city picking-up the brat from the airport for some reason, I’ve taken the rare opportunity to fuck around with my new flavours without being observed a while.

Among the above flavours – which are just culinary food additives – are brown sugar, graham cracker, dairy milk, pie crust, malted milk and chai tea.

I’ve also been listening to the community radio station and man there’s some odd shit broadcast on 89.1: last night we ate dinner with a talk show about prostate cancer and all the limp-dick shit that goes with it including anal leakage – yes it was quite informative, remind me again in another 10 years when I’m old enough to give a shit about cancer.

Now today I’m recoiling my atomizers to a show about a donkey rescue farm and hospital, plus bat conservation.. here’s a snippet I recorded ..

Solid gold listening right? πŸ™‚

I only plugged the radio in to finally listen to radio blue mountains because I cleaned their offices and studio for two years, and I’m yet to hear a mention of or local station mmhmm.

I’ve mixed about half a bottle each of both chai tea with milk plus brown sugar and malted milk with milk, graham cracker, brown sugar, pie crust and banana.

The pie crust concentrate tastes like squashed ants, but that’s straight concentrate from the dropper.

Some dickhead’s pointing out he grew up in a goat farming town – real laugh fest they both had at that one too: a real knee-slapper that.

Wonder why nobody listens to the radio.

5:06 PM

There’s my dinner organized.

*…

Day 18 – Wednesday, 18 July 2018

I’ve come to the personal decision to no longer brush my hair. The wind just messes it anyway.

3:12 PM

Two weeks ago, Old-Brian shows-up at three in the afternoon demanding that his flat had to be cleaned for the lease-end by the end of the day and I said no: that I have to go home for dinner soon but I’d do it in the morning.

He got all stressy and told me that wouldn’t do, got upset and left.

I was willing to do his flat of course – it’s paid work – but not on zero notice site unseen, and figured of he returns in the morning I’ll go up and assess the mess.

He didn’t come back the next morning, and I figured that was that he’d just have to stay old and cranky.

Today he’s in the hall and still hasn’t managed to get it cleaned, so I’ve gone and viewed the place then agreed to clean it for him tomorrow at 9:00 AM, he said that would be fine.

Got the keys, ready to go and it wasn’t the pigsty I’d envisioned: about 3 hours work I told him.

I played the piano very well today: My fingers worked just fine.

I’m at the library now and Brian’s here! In a much better mood too.

Day 19 – Thursday, 19 July 2018

*…

9:21 PM

An egg sandwich for dinner. I don’t have the appetite for steak tonight either.

I have to get up early again to go finish the bathroom before Brian gets there: Brian delayed things considerably by helping, because like the rest of Brian everything is done very slowly.

Here’re some after-shots.


Day 20 – Friday, 20 July 2018

Okay so Brian’s place is finished and I’m about to go and see if there’s time for the piano before the church shuts, then I’ll spend the afternoon at the library updating this.

I told Brian $125 sounds right – since there was about 4 hours yesterday and an hour finishing the bathroom this morning @ $25/hour.

He gave me $180, explaining that I’m a friend. I told him $125 is fair but he insisted.

*…

Day 21 – Saturday, 21 July 2018

Alright things are going to be uncomfortable: certainly for me.

Daniel’s been much better behaved since he’s been back from his father’s for the holidays, although he was ramping himself up for drama this morning a bit, and hanging at the front of the house growling and shaking the gate every time people walk past isn’t a good look – especially not at almost midday I a batman onesy – but regardless of that he’s been relatively well behaved – for now.

The problem is *I* am feeling more like one of Mandy’s kids as time goes on and – given I’ve just spent half a year in a sleeping-bag homeless I am beginning to feel demasculated and a bit like a house pet: like Daniel and the Cat I’m becoming more dependent than independent and I don’t like it.

I’m not a manchild, nor a dependent of Mandy’s and don’t want to be, yet the kindness, warmth and comfort she lavishes on me is turning me into a softcock because of my natural inclination to be lazy.

To solve my issue, I’ve decided to return to my sleeping-bag, outside, in the cold: where I was before Mandy gave me everything any normal human being would want.

I know it’s mental, but I feel a bit like a wild animal that’s been declawed and defanged right now.

I want my claws back.

Day 22 – Sunday, 22 July 2018

I really don’t know what to write today, so I’ll just write a summary of events. No, I’ll upload the photos.

*…

*…

This cat belongs back a few days and was found mincing around at the back of Brian’s flats: I walked past it to put a bag of rubbish in the bin and figured why not? Memory cards are cheap.

*…

Day 23 – Monday, 23 July 2018

5:45 AM

No sleep for me last night: not a wink.

I had a short, sweet opportunity at about 9:30 PM but didn’t take that opportunity so didn’t fall asleep once that opportunity had passed and my dopamine levels returned to normal.

What can you do, right?

It was the cold mostly: it just seeped through from the concrete and made me aware of it all night, plus my pack’s full of hard lumpy shit so it made a rubbish pillow.

Course it was also -1Β°C last night, so thinking the ice-cold ground would not bother me was pretty optimistic, but I certainly didn’t freeze to death.

It’ll be about 5Β°C tonight though, and my sleeping bag is rated 5Β°C so I shouldn’t have any issues tonight when it finally comes.

Hang on a minute ..

I’m in the car park at Coles. South-East corner of Basement Level 2 to be precise. Here’s a nice example of depth of field for you.

Most of my photos are classy. πŸ™‚

7:30 AM

It’s Monday today, means the church is shut and any socializing with the cool kids is out so I’m tossing up whether to walk down the hill to the Salvation Army breakfast at 8:00 AM.

I’m not hungry since I just finished the last two sausages and drank an iced coffee, but I’ve got a long day with no sleep so I’m thinking any calories I can choke down will probably help this afternoon when I’m fighting sleep sprawled on whatever library chair looks comfortable.

There’s also a piano there I can play, though it’s a poor excuse in comparison to the antique baby grand I usually play but that’s the only option today.

8:14 AM

The original guilt-trip; they have every cowardly halfwitt on earth who’s scared of death covered with that horseshit.

How mind-numbing.

Okay so today I’ve got an old man acting like he’s about to blow his load over whatever he’s eating and the fat pervert who hangs-out with Neville – the old, respectable looking fuckhead who lures homeless women into a warm roof then pressures them for sexual favors.

But this idiot on my left is infinately more irritating: fucker has not stopped with the “Mmm oooh mmm mmmmmm” bullshit I sat down.

The eggs are here: I can eat them and .. fuck it I’ve gotta stick my headphones in he’s pissing me right off.

I’ll eat quickly I can get on the piano and drown this idiots noises out.

Too early in the morning for degenerate scum, it is.

Eggs. Right. Eat.

8:42 PM

Told you the piano was a dogs breakfast, but the eggs were edible. Once I put my headphones in.

Sounded terrible too, but at least it’s finger exercise.

11:11 AM

I’m at the library where it’s well too warm for my jackets.

The eggs must’ve helped because I’m not fuzzy headed and falling asleep when I usually would be by now.

I got no sleep because I had to leave Mandy’s because I had to leave Mandy because I cannot spend my life being publicly embarrassed by Daniel every time we’re out, annoyed or angry every time I’m stuck in the same room as him and watching him abuse the gentlest cat I’ve ever met: and all simply to try and make himself constantly the centre of attention like a fuckhead.

I mean I could do it I suppose, but only if I’m willing to sacrifice my own dignity, peace of mind and happiness and there’s no fucking way I’ll do that just for a kid who’s a complete non-entity to me like Daniel is.

Daniel was not born with a treatable illness: he was born brain-damaged and he will always be brain-damaged.

It’s sad as shit because you’re an amazing woman and home-maker and I haven’t felt so cared about in years.

Sort of woman who will see a drip on the end of your runny nose and – rather than point it out and ‘Eww’ you for it – pull out a tissue and dab your nose dry herself.

A lovely, caring woman with a kid that repels every living thing he comes in contact with: it’s a tragedy, and not a tragedy that’s any doing of mine and I can’t spend the rest of my life only having a good day here and there when Daniel feels like allowing it.

Daniel is a non-event to me and I can’t allow a non-event to leech away my energy day after day that is not my future.

Anyway I feel like an absolute cunt about just walking out, but how much harder would it have been in six months, a years time or longer: inevitably I would’ve left anyway but I’ve saved greater damage being done from Daniel knowing I intensely dislike him, saved myself an awful not of cancer-inducing anger and stress and I’ve saved you having to be torn between you’re son and I which would always be the case.

I know it’s the right thing to do but fuck it sucks.

*…

2:40 PM

Brian just stopped by on his way past Rex and I and posed the philosophical question ‘What is complexity’ – a question I’ve already discussed with Brian previously but I was happy to listen to Rex’s perspective.

Now bare in mind Brian is a very quiet talker and speaks mostly in a whisper, yet minutes later some old guy opposite side of the table starts telling Brian to stop talking because it’s a library followed by a woman sitting besides me agreeing with the old man and then a third down the end all telling us if we want to talk to leave the library.

Incidentally, though maybe not so much for him, Brian is looking much less death-like and skeletal lately and that’s what I initially asked him about when he came over to say hi.

*…

Day 24 – Tuesday, 24 July 2018

Today was morning tea at the church: the only little three hour slot each week where that lunatic Bronwyn is granted a bit of authority to heat baked beans and toast for anyone desperate enough to want to eat it.

And although she only has authority over the baked beans and the hall they’re served in, she sure likes to act like she’s important.

I was in the church on the piano most of the morning, until about 11:00 AM when I was convinced to go and collect my things from Mandy’s – or whatever I could carry.

Afternoon I went to the library and bumped into Barbera, who gave me an earful about not caring about Mandy or whatever, but Barbera has a schizophrenic son in his 20s who beats her, so of course Barbera’s going to be just as depressed about holding onto a man as Mandy is.

Barbera’s 30 year marriage was ruined by her son and ended recently so fuck, a thirty year marriage and their own kid that fucked it for them, and Barbera is as biased as a they come so her point of view is nullified because she’s sick in the head for accepting a life like that.

Day 25 – Wednesday, 25 July 2018

This morning it’s eggs and toast at the waffle house, hang on its going cold.

Okay so Mandy told I was a coward last night because of my decision to leave over her autistic kid who makes life hell anytime he doesn’t get treated like prince harry.

She’s wrong of course, though she’s got no idea how wrong she is.

Mandy is only half the woman she’d be if she didn’t have Daniel draining her life energy every night, every day, every time and not only refuse to allow myself to become half the man I am for a child that was basically a mistake, I don’t want a woman who’s only half of herself because of, well anyone really.

Cowardice isn’t the driver here; intelligence is.

Waffles now, and they’re here.

Day 26 – Thursday, 26 July 2018

See if we can scrape up a photo for this morning.. I’m in the disabled* toilet at Coles about to have a shave. Even bought a tube of shaving-cream to avoid using the hand soap πŸ˜‰

Bout time probably: I don’t mind a hairy face to a point but hate having a beard – they always feel grotty, even right out the shower.

What do I have to do today..

4:23 PM

I’m at the library for a bit before it closes and have just been to the medical centre for an STD blood and urine test.

And no there’s nothing wrong at all that I know of, it’s simply a check.

I should charge my phone while I’ve got half an hour then decide what to eat tonight. Fucked if I want another hamburger meal I am tired of them, so I’ve gotta think of something else.

Greasy chicken isn’t any better and although I wouldn’t mind subway I don’t wanna sit and eat in there it’s a hideous excuse for a dining room.

R.I.P Neil: for a cat you were quite a dood ?

5:46 PM

I’ve just gone into Big-W to look at thermoses to keep my coffee hot so I know what I want once I’ve rid myself of Jen’s bag. On the way out the woman at the front insisted in checking my bag, which I flat out refused and because of that insulting shit I flat out refuse to spend $45 in their shitty store now and didn’t buy anything.

Oh well. Saved me wasting money on impulse crap I don’t need anyway.

The fish and chips were good, but ultimately it’s always garbage compared to a home cooked meal. The fish was cold before I ate it too because I was too busy fuckin’ ’round with my phone to remember to eat it.

There are rats around, which reminds me I used to feed these rats every night there for a while.

Good thing I stopped: a few months ago when I was here I remember seeing about half a dozen rats within a few meters of my sleeping-bag – at the same time I mean. The ground was almost alive with rats. Too many rats, that is.

Had they been guinea pigs well, there’s no such thing as too many of them πŸ™‚

Poor Mandy. I really had no choice at all.

I should be online looking for a share room somewhere. I’ll do that now actually.

Still haven’t looked online. I got distracted doing, well something else.

Day 27 – Friday, 27 July 2018

Today’s Friday so Munster-Rebecca will be the official op-shop volunteer for today and tomorrow.

I’ve gotta get the rest of my stuff today though my piano seems infinitely more a priority than a few items of clothes and a box or two of stuff.

10:08 AM

The money-grubbing bottom feeders are pacing the driveway as usual: waiting for a hapless customer to wonder in so they can fake charm in the hope they’ll sell something.

These marketeers never contribute anything but the $20 table fee they’re forced to pay and never show any interest in the services that’ve kept the place open the past five years.

And you think the homeless clientele here are human filth. Depends on your definition of good and bad I guess.

4:49 PM

I’m at the library now though nobody feels the need to avoid me currently and with ten minutes ’til closing there’s not much point starting now, though there are things to add.

Gumtree is so boring it drains my brain.

9:39 PM

Yes I’ve got things to write but I’ve got a whole day to do now.. here was dinner: a lovely vegetarian burger with chopped salad and roast potatoes.

Of all the imitation meat products I’ve eaten I have to say that only the vegetarian bacon was a fail and could quite happily adapt to everything else.

I am nothing if not adaptable.

Day 28 – Saturday, 28 July 2018

Today I’ll catch up on yesterday and I’ve been commanded to find an actual dwelling to occupy so I suppose I’ll start online. Almost made it to gumtree last night but got distracted again because, well human interaction.

Fortunately Rebecca’s not a big talker so I should get bored enough quick enough to get it done πŸ™‚

Inexplicably you know I’m feeling a notch or two below my usual awesome self this morning. Combined with the runny nose as well as the change in seasons I’d assume a cold is on the way. I complained to Rebecca about my feeling less than awesome and she gave me a bag of these little Panadol honey & lemon sachets. That was nice of her πŸ™‚

Sadly the sachets contain phenylephrine hydrochloride – the standard supermarket replacement for psuedoephedrine these days – which just makes me twitchy, so I’ll have to pass on the hot honey & lemon drink though it’s the gesture that counts.

Rebecca and I get along fine don’t you worry about that πŸ™‚

Toni is in Lithgow at her tattooist friends for the weekend. This tattooist friend is apparently into casual sex to the point she’s actually gone to meet complete strangers at train stations to hookup.

Toni’s told me the other day that the last time she did this she was waiting at a train station in the middle of the night when not one unknown man but four have shown up and though I cannot remember how that night ended I’ve told Toni she can stop her friend getting herself bashed and raped while she’s there.

Toni said this chick won’t listen to her or anyone else at all.

Sad really.

3:07 PM

Pack-up the shop time seems on slow-motion today, with five volunteers it’s only half done.

4:56 PM

The shop was closed about any hour ago and I’ve just returned to my not-so-secret place. I’ve had my 20-ish minutes piano time and spent the rest of the day talking to customers or Rebecca/Toni/Leera and asked if anyone knew of any rooms to rent but nobody else wants to live with me either πŸ™‚

I also forget to mention that I told Julia – our local housing representative – that I was still homeless and she said they have some kind of 12-month subsidized private rent that I’ll be eligable for, but I got distracted by many things yesterday so didn’t get to talking to her before she left at midday.

I know, I should’ve spoken to her then when I had the chance, but I was busier than you would assume yesterday.

The wind is starting and though it’s not cold yet, it will be: It’s always the wind here in the mountains that turns the whole town into an icebox in winter.

Spats of rain are hitting my jacket too here and there.

Now dinner tonight is these pretty fancy looking asian abalone and truffle noodles since nobody else seems keen to try them so I figure I’ll be the proverbial guinea-pig and microwave some, though I’ve gotta go back to microwave them and I don’t know whether I can be bothered arsing around like that for some noodles. Here’re the boxes they come in though: classy noodles.

Only one place in katoomba on gumtree anyway and you know the thing that puts me off looking online for a place is that every time I’ve moved-in with strangers the arrangement has been untenable.

You’re only there for a room and they’re only inviting you because they want money, and most have been moderately to severely weird to begin with but you never find out until you’ve already moved-in.

There’s a reason they haven’t just had a friend or family member move in, and it’s usually anti-socially related and now I’ve given consideration to the noodles, I’ve concluded that fancy or truffle or otherwise, they’re just noodles and I won’t be walking anywhere in the cold to microwave them. I’ve eaten recently enough so there’s no need x

I’ll have them in the morning while I’m waiting for the church service to finish.

Day 29 Sunday, 29 July 2018

The noodles were great if you like those prawn noodles Maggi used to make, which I do so I’m happy enough with them. They’re seafood flavored basically and you can’t taste the truffle oil at all.

Still just noodles though.

9:29 AM

It’s Sunday lunch for the needy, so we know Brian will be here though I’m early and with not even a chair set-up Ahlei’s volunteered me to fold tea-towels already.

10 minutes later..

11:08 AM

Here’s Rosa’s chicken buckets: food even gets redistributed to them πŸ˜‰

And they’re already starting to feed me random things: this time some kind of curry-dipped bread..

Brian’s asked me for help this afternoon, and though I told him I didn’t have time at first, I realized lunch is all over by 2:00 PM so I told him that’s fine, “Go have your lunch Brian and get me when you’re finished.”

He wants a lever pressed down but cannot do it himself πŸ™‚

So off to The Cecil again.

9:20 PM

Turns out that ‘lever’ Brian wanted levered was not a lever at all, but the button on a roach bomb: he just couldn’t press it down hard enough to snap into the catch so wanted me to come and do it for him.

I had a very short play of the piano they’ve got there that J.J’s told I should come and play but the piano is a shit one sadly and had very loose sounding strings. It was an upright pianola and didn’t even look good..

Waiting for Brian to walk to the Cecil took longer than yeah god he walks fuckin’ slow and when we finally arrived had barely got in the door when an old woman with blonde hair started talking to Brian and myself.

Within two minutes I’d inadvertently said what I’m sure are the two most grating words on earth to an average brainless bitch like her – “Rosa’s Church”, and the dumb christian was off: ‘Rosa?!’, ‘Don’t get me started on Rosa!’, ‘Rosa doesn’t have a church!’, ‘Rosa’s an ATHEIST!!’.

Fucking shoot me.

I managed to be diplomatic, aware I’m a guest in an old peoples home and simply said “Mmmm” and “Yeah I dunno about that” but Brian got the shits with her and spat-out, ‘Rosa’s a person. If you are not able to speak kindly then please be quiet.’

Made for an awkward ride in that tiny elevator: indignant old Brian and the dumb, bitter old Christian bitch.

Only one floor, but god it was a slow one and they were still squabbling when the lift doors opened and I told him, “Don’t worry about it Brian”, then walked to his door with him.

He got the key in the lock in only 4 tries today!

Poor Brian πŸ™‚

Inside the flat I see he’s gone ultra OHS for the occasion with gloves, face masks and even a brand new pair of safety goggles he’d bought just for the de-bugging of his flat and I immediately told him we wouldn’t be needing any of that, but he insisted I “at least put gloves on” which I did because it was faster than debating the point, but told him “I won’t need the mask and goggles Brian I’m not planning on spraying my face with it.”

*..

*…

Not long after I get back from helping Brian with his bug bomb, several of us are in the kitchen when the conversation switches to Toni and her going weird on us all a few months ago.

As well as telling me she was gunna punch me in the throat if I tell her to shuddup again, she’s now admitting to throwing my jacket under one of the tables and giving it a kick or two, PLUS throwing a bag of my clean washing behind one of the fridges πŸ™‚

Said she got jealous when Mandy came and stole her mate away from her.

Real mature Toni πŸ™‚

Told me, ‘God women are bitches.’

“Yes they are :)”

Here was dinner tonight and the apple & pear crumble desert. Both were lovely.

I’m going to bed.

Uncertain.

Day 30 Monday, 30 July 2018

It is so cold this morning my hands are painful so I’m running warm water on them in the disabled toilets.

Always the wind.

So cold I’ve switched from the cotton long-sleeve shirt to my smelly unwashed merino but good god the difference is night and day: I’d forgotten I had the black merino jumper as well as the two thermals, so pulling-on this heavy 3-stack of layers was like fuckin’ heaven after walking down the street in just the shirt and jackets πŸ™‚

Anyway what am I doing today.

I’ve just found another two cracks on my phones screen from dropping it last night in the concrete.

More than two cracks actually.

Peice of shit.

I’ve got the choice to either go and pay for eggs and toast in a cafe, or put up with the filth at the free breakfast down the road and I’m really not sure money’s that important to me, though with coffee that’s $15 for the same food I’d get there for nothing. Minus the decent coffee of course.

Fucking phone that’s ruined my mood for the morning. Be no writing at all if I drop the cunt again and this is the third phone in 6 fucking months.

I’ll relax about the phone when I see it’s still functioning alright but right now I wanna peg the weak shit across the room.

I can no longer write about what I want to write about anyway, so I’m just dribbling shit to fill the page.

Least they got my eggs right this time, and though they’re not particularly tasty eggs, neither are the ones I paid ten bucks for at the waffle house the other morning and – unlike the waffle house – I don’t have to try to butter my own cold toast with the cold butter packets they toss on the plate.

I told Tanya they’ve gotta fix that shit: either get the toast here hot, or butter it out back before it’s gone cold – since the meal only comprises two parts – eggs and toast – there’s no excuse for half of it being served cold to a paying customer.

At home you’d just throw cold toast in the bin.

I’m finishing yesterday.

Brian’s here and I’ve had to just walk away from him to go outside to clip the monologue.

First it was the bug bomb and he’s claimed to have no idea what kind of bugs he has, but claims he was bitten in bed but only once, and it may be fleas but he’s not sure.

My suggestion it’s either fleas or bedbugs illicited the additional opinion from him that it’s maybe carpet beetles. Brian is clearly in denial because he’s embarrassed to admit all this insomnia is likely caused by bed-bugs he’s probably been sleeping with for quite a while now.

Stay away from me Brian. Makes me itchy just thinking about it.

I’ll get those blood test results soon.

Yes. Itchy.

Then he’s on about the weather for twenty minutes and the how windy the alleyway down to the Cecil is and how if you’ve got a friend with a million dollars in their pocket there’s a really expensive printers somewhere out the back of fucking nowhere you can still get hand set printing done and when food came up I said something about burger meals and he started to explain that there are ways to improve on that I’d had enough of the sticky conversation and walked away to go outside for nicotine.

I didn’t get much sleep last night.

Oop here he comes again.

Poor Brian I’m saying just an hour ago..

Stay away old man!

He wants another bug bomb set off: apparently the whole can we set off the other day wasn’t enough to kill that unidentified insect that bit him only once, in bed, but isn’t a bedbug.

Fucking strong bug πŸ™‚

I am still uncertain.

Tonight’s dinner will be whatever shit I grab from Coles I guess since I’m too tired to wait for take-away or eat it.

I forgot I’ve TAFE course to do starts soon. Some introduction to social working thing or whatever. Starts in the beginning of August.

Day 31 Tuesday, 31 July 2018

There are two ways I can go with this, but I’ve been told not to talk about anything ever and so this time tomorrow I’ll declare myself single again with the current trajectory of same-old, since I cannot not express myself: this site is an extension of me, and I am incapable of silence – certainly about something that occupies so much space in me.

Just as sneaky as it ever was, and I’m too old to waste time on a maybe, so it might be shaping-up to be a quick round.

My cheese and bacon rolls are going cold, I’ll finish this later πŸ™‚

9:18 AM

I apologized for my bed-hair upon arrival at the church but Pam said it looked perfect how it is. Nice of her.

Almost perfect.

Old-Bronwyn is still being foul to everyone who likes me, which is pretty much everyone who matters at the church and bitching about my using the piano: never to me – around me to everyone else.

Nasty hag just makes herself look like a twisted-up old dickhead πŸ™‚

So Ahlei and I decided I should play more while Bronwyn is here not less because Bronwyn is wrong, I am right, and allowing wrong to win is wrong, so allowing her mental issues to impact my piano time would be wrong.

I’m right, she’s wrong: simple as that.

She’s even bitched to the cleaner about me this morning, who said Old-Bronwyn’s ugly is showing way to much and her energy is ugly and uncomfortable.

All over an unused piano in an empty church πŸ™‚

The cleaner was, in turn, uncomfortable with my playing the piano while Bronwyn was in the vicinity because of her morning tea and had bitched enough at her to visibly rattle the woman.

Of course the holy place in question is also desecrated by live bands, fΓ©tes, kids lunches and classes, meeting groups and training courses in and around their two hours a week of actual church service, and the old bitch never has the need to squawk about that.

I told the cleaner what I’d already discussed with Ahlei: how that’s reason to play more while she’s here, not less.

I also explained that the old woman has a few mental problems, that she and her whole congregation of six had already been sat down after church a few weeks ago and told by Rosa herself to shuddup and cop it sweet and that I’ve been given express permission to play the piano any time I like.

I didn’t even want to play today but had to for the sake of sanity. The cleaner said I might be playing with fire – using the piano while Bronwyn is here and I in turn repeated that the full breadth of Bronwyn’s authority starts and ends with baked-beans for the needy on a Tuesday morning.

Like a little battle between good and evil, right here in the church πŸ™‚

Oh and my don’t-give-a-fuck look is coming along nicely again. Takes a few days to settle into πŸ™‚

2:03 PM

I’ve just had our friendly local Buddhist nun come out and ask me about her new HP laptop, and here’s a photo of a piggy to lighten the mood..

Evidently she cannot access the @ symbol no matter what she tries, and she asked me what it might be, but I had to tell her that without seeing the machine in action I can’t really say because I haven’t used her model of laptop.

She thanked me anyhow and I told her the keyboard should be set to English-US because that’s always the default and that was all the factual advice I could offer on the spot.

She’s nice: whenever she’s had her vegetarian food stall at the markets she’s given me free dumplings, the odd cake or pastry here or there..

First time she gave me dumplings I helped her pack-up her stall and ever since she gives me food whether I want it or not πŸ™‚

That course starts tomorrow at the church. Mm.

5:44 PM

We’ve got the good noodles tonight, though I ate them about half an hour ago.

Just now though, I walk into Coles and head for the toilets when a voice says ‘Eckscuse me.’.

I turn around to find it’s the cleaner taking to me, then he tells me ‘please no they are not for you. Please don’t use that toilet.’

“The disabled toilet’s busy”, I respond and nod towards the other toilet door.

He then told me the parents change room was not for me either and ‘Please use mens, can you, mens for you’ and so I asked him what he was gunna do about it.

‘No please these toilet no for you please use ..’

“What’re YOU gunna do about it? You’re a cleaner..”

‘No please use mens’

“Go call the cops ya Dickhead πŸ™‚ Tell ’em I’m in the wrong fuckin toilet”

By then I was inside and simply closed the door on whatever he said next.

See what they say.

6:41 PM

I’m in my sleeping-bag already and though it’s not cold yet it soon will be but only down to 4Β°C so – in combination with the clothes – macpac has me covered.

Last night of the month and the last day of this post.

Tick tick tick.

I saw Barbera today at the church. She was with the slobby skinny dood with the unwashed hair and filthy cap.

She smiled and said good morning on her way past, but when I replied “Beautiful day!”, the smile dropped and I’d walked past a moment later.

9:16 PM

It’a the last day of the month and the last moments of this post. The timer has stopped to reveal an inadvertent fork in the road for future posts.

Mmm.

My choice ultimately, but there’s little point in writing if we can not agree on context, and if nothing is recorded was it worth recording in the first place?

10,367 words this week.

6 thoughts on “Outing #54: Mmm 🎹

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