dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession

dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession
WHY DESTROY YOURSELF? WHY DIE BEFORE YOUR TIME? THE KEEPERS OF THE HOUSE TREMBLE. DESIRE IS NO LONGER STIRRED. DO NOT CONFORM ANY LONGER TO THE PATTERN OF THIS WORLD.

Monday, 10 August 2026

New Telly Day

Woke up early as is usual, dragging myself up from the mattress on the floor. I sleep on the floor because I was unsure if I had a pest control problem or not. I was hallucinating vermin in my florid ‘delusions’, and I had the feeling that people were putting real ones in there to hurt me as well. Between the two, I decided to minimise the flat, getting rid of anything that could be hid under. Therefore the bed and the sofa had to go. I toppled them into the garden. The council removed them later on.

Decided to stay awake once I was up. Had delicious cheesy scrambled egg on toast for breakfast, instead of porridge mixed with Nutella and peanut butter. I’ve just had three small plates in the pub as well, which I’m regretting, because I feel full and laggard.

Been into SMART group, where once again I was interrupted during my talk. The facilitator should listen more then he opens his mouth. At the weekend I talked about porn; today I kind of glorified the dark side of being unable to resist. Naturally, I was challenged: You always have a choice, they said. It should have been different. I should be delivering knowledge about God’s grace. But hardly anyone believes in him!

I got my new telly from a mate. It all checks out fine. DVD player is great. It took me several hours to notice the A-B loop repeat button, which kind of ushers in a tendency to watch adult material. I originally thought it didn’t have one. I just love the DVD experience, as I’ve never streamed in my life. I sit there messing with the buttons half the time, namely the zoom and aspect ones, always changing the image on the screen.

The idea of watching naked babes on my fresh equipment is very pressing. I am aware however that not all female adult actresses are perfect and that not even the silver screen can hide these imperfections for as long as I desire to watch it for. After multiple hours you come across a roll of fat or a birthmark or facial hair or something which puts you off. Either that or you are looking at the men.

I’m not in the mood for a ‘reset’ yet though. I want to keep the running abstinent spree going. Be a better man for a while like, you know. Get into my traditional movies and artwork and stuff, with cooking and worship and music and all the rest.

Sunday, 9 August 2026

Kindle Reminder


Schmoe

by Andrew Donegan | Sold by: Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.  | 16 Jan 2012
Price, product page
Available instantly

Banishment Pictures

by Andrew Donegan | Sold by: Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.  | 4 Feb 2012
Price, product page
Available instantly

Exploitation

by Andrew Donegan | Sold by: Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.  | 8 May 2012
Price, product page Kindle Unlimited
Included with a Kindle Unlimited membership Learn More
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Or £2.92 to buy

Glimpses Gone

by Andrew Donegan | Sold by: Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.  | 10 Feb 2012
Price, product page
Available instantly

Never Talk Back To Voices

Sorry, just having a psychic word with one of my psychotronic stalkers (voice in the old head there, aka schizophrenia, actually a real person in real time with a BCI (Brain Computer Interface) and V2K (Voice to Skull) going on; whose sole vocation in life is to reach out and bother me for a meritless argument to ease her time being a lowlife harasser and perpetrator. Anything to pass the sunless weeks for that joyless lot, while I spend unnecessary hours batting them away to preserve my own freedom of thought and peace. Pardon me, but I ain’t entertaining you. No reply. I have beautiful blog readers to converse with. Call me what you want (when you’re not banging on about how much power you have), but this world is full of nice people and they offer far more mutual energy exchange than your desperate sorry ass can ever dream of. You’re a sick tormentor and depraved psychological torturer, do you really think you matter one iota in my world? If you wanna meet me in the real physical manors without your menticidal perch in cog then come check me out at my home address. I’m in most of the time and my patio remains usually always open during the summer months.

I’ll piss and take a shit on your beef and whack your hatred for fun.

I don’t care how many schoolgirls you made throw themselves off bridges with your despicable vitriol.

I also don’t care about how evil you are. 

You should see my evil, upon evil. It takes some describing. You want to rob our children of their mind and bug me in the process, see how far you get if you ever don the bravery cape and approach my front door. I’ll end you.

That’s why you’re a meaningless nagging voice in a poor mentally unwell man’s head (nothing wrong with me really), and I’m a master commentator who shares his deeding with the world. That’s life I’m afraid. Previous sentence may contain a humble brag.

Sorry again guys, these toxic avengers wind me up. They do need telling just now and again though. They can’t argue with the written word. I wouldn’t speak like this about anyone unless the justification was warranted. 2am, I’m getting harassed. Tea time, I’m getting harassed. All day long, they’re doing my head in. The same old boring stalkers saying the same old boring phrases feasting on the same old boring wounds. Pretending to be happy, thinking they’re all this that and the third.

Amen to the Lord, who saves. Amen to him amen to him amen to him!

Today's post promotion is more about voice hearing. 

https://piebald77.blogspot.com/2015/01/the-worst-five-things-about-hearing.html

Saturday, 8 August 2026

Artwork From The Clinic

 

Reincarnate Overtures

Ascertaining Degrees Of Tron

Wild Rivers Wild

Kite

System Smeltdown

Feline Manors

Auntie Vera Playing Jazz

Purple Aki

Runner Buggy Central

Fishtank



No Relief




Thursday, 6 August 2026

Failed Trip/Returned Seed

I didn’t go camping last night, I chickened out when my arse fell off at the slightest touch of rain. Main reason was lethargy, and lack of equipment. The idea is now firmly lodged in my mind however and I plan to purchase a tent soon. I can’t go camping out in my big oversized jacket, no matter how snug it is.

I didn’t regret it when waking up bright-eyed at two in the morning. It’s bad enough in a comfy flat. Sat under a tree, exposed to the rain, in pitch darkness, with a headful of horror books and movies, ain’t no good surely. In a tent it’s bearable because you can snuggle up and feel safe/protected from the night.

It was the drink talking. I was on whiskey chasers yesterday, an idea which doesn’t usually even occur to me. And I was inspired by Natasha. She’s a service user in Pathways who lost her only child to social services. She was doing really well, over a 100 days, then relapsed for six weeks. I could see she had recently self-harmed. But she is bouncing back by a five day excursion to the Lake District. She turned up to apology in her camping gear and that’s what got my brain churning over. She looked like such a free wayfaring spirit. So cute.

I don’t know much about portable cookers, but I know enough about camping to deduce that chilli beans and sausages are essential under the moonlight. I’ll try again when I’m not half-cut. A torch, firelighters, a good book, water or pop…I’m definitely gunna look into it. I’ll stay local at first, and then maybe venture further afield. But you know what I’m like, don’t you really? Always talking bollocks. I never get around to anything. That’s why I intended to make a burst for it yesterday, before I talked myself out of it. Which I eventually did do.

The seed of re-using is back again. It came from erotic dreams last night. I’m always gung ho about it after such lewd affairs on the astral. I could get a 40 whizz bag in the morning and sit there all day. I’ve had to adopt my higher self to overcome carnal compulsions so far. The battle is only ever half-won, as you are already aware of. Yesterday I wanted to go and spend the night outdoors; today I’m thinking about sex. See the difference? One is a fulfilling hobby, the other is a destructive behaviour.

For me anyway. Please don’t let my own personal afflictions somehow reflect upon you. You might be in your twenties with an active interest in porn, wondering what it is I worry about. Full respect. I would just plead with you to be careful that you don’t end up middle aged with nothing left to live for except it. Still, so what if that does happen, then where’s the harm? All I need is porn, I got my porn, I’m half-decent at being satisfied with my porn. Raging success bro. But on a deeper level you probably won’t be. There’s so much more to life than naked performers on camera.

Porn always made me depressed afterwards, from the beginning. But it was so titillating, I always returned for more. Now a part of me sees it as just people being stupid, playing around with oil and toys. It all feels amateurish to me. And because I live in a <permanent state of psychosis>, it’s not long before the videos become part of my condition. The women will start giving me instructions, or making more eye contact with the camera than they did at the real actual time of recording…the portals will open and I’ll be made very unwell, all in the course of a single afternoon’s entertainment. When I was younger the porn houses used to be called Evil Angel and Diabolic and other heathen names, and with me, and the flowery tendrils of my contagious ‘illness’, it was easy to see why.


  

Wednesday, 5 August 2026

Not Glamping

🌋65.74??!!8₽₾₿⃝9.32XX0./tHeonLywayisDiscourse

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great-news.revisiting-my-childhood. tonight-hopefully.

camping-out-in-my-oversized-wasteman-jacket.no-sleeping-bag.

pex-hill.widnes.devil’s-chairwear-green-and-red-for-camouflage.

Pex Hill is a quarry in my home town. It’s a bit of a wilderness considering the rest of the state of affairs; chemical factories, canals with three-eyed fish, scrapheaps, and last but by no means least the Granox, a place where they burned dead animals for Holy Smoke’s sake. The smoke was black and miles across. Whenever we went to Wales, or anywhere out of town, we could smell the Granox whenever we approached Widnes/Runcorn bridge, perched at the entrance to the town.

People used to say, “Do you know the way to Widnes?”

We’d reply, “Follow your nose.”

People identified the town with the odor they sensed miles before arriving there. One historian called it a ‘poisonous hellhole’. It was also described as the dirtiest, ugliest, most depressing town in England. We are known as wooly-backs. But it still beats being a scouser. Or a manc.

Anyway, yeah, I’m camping tonight. I think? Out in nature. Let you know how it goes. That is if I don’t bottle out and change my mind before tonight.