Grass

Howdy there, it’s me again, breathing down your airspace. I hope you don’t mind. You choose to come here, I don’t twist your arm. If I could, I would, because I want to be heard! Boy, this is a struggle. I’ve literally run out of words. What left is there to say? What is the future of this blog? I think I’ll use and go incognito for a few days, come back with something useful. Those interracial babes…sucking and banging and spurting…

There’s got to be something else other than that. I’ve just been the pub to catch up on my table game (pool). I had a nice long one down the rail (cushion). About six or seven frames, just to get my arm going, you know. Nothing entirely special happened, couple of neat pots, that’s your lot. It’s pleasant to keep in touch though. I’d not played for six days and that is far too long away from the table.

In the library now, sat at the personal PC computer. Some guy has just left sat next to me. He was the guy who grassed on me for vaping in here back when I used to vape several months back. He told the librarian I was vaping and she had a word with me. I was so insulted by him. Why couldn’t he just tell me himself? I would have respected that. I shared about it in Men’s Group on a Tuesday morning. I said he wasn’t G-Unit. Hardly anyone sided with me, saying I was in the wrong, I shouldn’t be vaping in a public space. I got to thinking about sneaking up behind him and blowing a lungful of vape smoke right into his face, or asking him politely why he grassed. I wanted to do something to let him know I didn’t agree with what he had done. In the end I let it go. He’s not G-Unit, so what, that’s the point of it, we can’t all be.

I proofread my manuscript in the pub yesterday afternoon. I found about ten typos. Not bad, considering. For an hour and a half I slipped away into it and forgot about everything else. Nothing in my mind bothered me while I was doing that. It was a suave feeling, afterward, realising it. I wished I had a new manuscript to proofread every day. I’d waited 21 months for the privilege. That type of emotion doesn’t drift by very often. The typos are easy to fix, nothing major like. When it was done I had a spicy meat feast pizza and was suddenly aware of everything the people on the table next to me were saying, when for the previous ninety minutes I hadn’t heard a word, lost in my own world, the lost world of Headswap.

So, I’ll see you next time, I know I’m not saying anything of any relevance. That’s the challenge though; what can I come up with tomorrow, if anything? It’s all so meaningless…so empty and vacuous and nil-rewarding…peace out.