Mood:
blueNow Playing: Blueishly
Topic: Daily Doings
THIS INTERNET-COMPUTER MALARKEY is driving me cuckoo.
Trying to post a hitcounter. Does anyone out there know precisely how + where I paste that “html” code?
I nearly got there. But I don’t know what I’m putting where: my head is spinning…
Maria Callas & Elizabeth Schwarzkopf are on the radio. When Maria Callas was young, & before her voice was wrecked she sounded sublime. There are so few operatic singers with truly amazing voices. Luciano Pavarotti is another. Andrea Botteli has something. Joan Sutherland…
I’m not one of these classical music snobs. Like the rest of us, I know most of my music from television commercials and films.
One thing I’d always told myself I’d love to do, if I can get clean, would be to find out what this amazing music was called, who was who, what’s what, etc.
At present I can say I like Beethoven and Shostokovich. Just don’t ask me to name a great list of their pieces…!
The greatest musical instrument, in my opinion, is the human voice. There are some amazing pieces for great choirs — I don’t know what a single one is called though!
Oh well.
I’d also like to learn how to cook (I mean properly cook.) A few years ago, just before I coincidentally got chucked out of the über-bourgeois shared house I’d lived in for years for my drug using, I met a lady on the street who offered to take me in.
She was an intensely complex person. How she knew she could trust me with her house keys I’ll never understand because I had them for a month before I ever moved in. I ended up staying for over two years.
There’s two sides to every relationship, and I do believe that ours was what they label a co-dependent one.That is, each party was relying on the other to an unhealthy extent.
Then there was my time “on the streets” (or more accurately, in a squat, mostly alone).
It was a giant building (not a house, a business premises), full of rats and pigeons and wildlife, not to mention certain “apparitions problem” — I kept seeing strange lights playing across the ceiling — and no way was this the lights of passing traffic. Once I saw a ghost and got scared witless.
Now I’m housed in what they call “temporary accommodation”.
Sadly, I seem no more capable of living in a single room than I am of leading an ordinary life.
Reading back through my postings I often cringe at what I’ve put, yet I make myself keep it in here, to keep a representative record of my life.
You want to know what cheered me up this evening? That was my dealer’s phone call, telling me a lovely bag of heroin was waiting for me at the end of my road.
Some things never change…
