Pastor Light

 

Well nothing much has happened since yesterday, so this will be as boring as all the other posts are. I can’t help it, I don’t have an exciting life. I enjoyed half a chicken in the pub, which I’m going to repurchase shortly, because it was nice, and went out for a bit with Tez and Barry. Tez used to be a Kingsman in the army, something he rarely shuts up about, and Bazza gets ridiculed for looking like my long lost brother. The conversation is hardly riveting, but it beats my own company.

Tez has just had a blank cheque come through from the army, worth 5 grand, to look after him, giving thanks for his service. He only has a year to live, but the fact that he is shortly going to die makes him laugh. He finds it hilarious, Bazza is always saying. It doesn’t bother him one bit. He still keeps drinking and taking drugs. He is very passive-aggressive, and takes some getting used to. Bazza is a simple bloke, he doesn’t believe in the spirit world or anything, and just gets on with things. He calls me the Big Dog, and I call him the Pimp Daddy. We’re orite together.

No night terrors last night. My dreams were splendid as is mostly usual. I was dreaming of King Kong. He was ripping the roof of my house and making it hard to hide from him, but I would rather face Kong than the dark humanoid heart. I’ve just been to church, my powerful Christian friend Stuart led the proceedings. He done it really well, it suited him in a preacher position. He is so easy and gentle, he is an inspiration of how to be. Then the Pastor took over, and the light through the window fell on him in a rather angelic fashion. I sang along to several ‘Jesus Bangers’ quite loudly, and felt better about myself.

Now I’m in my familiar seat at the library talking to your good self, whose presence I sincerely value a lot. Without you, my life would take a downturn. I wouldn’t know who to reach out to. I’m pestered by the Devil, he hounds my every negative thought occurrence, but I have the almighty arm of the Lord wrapped around me too. Just saying this to someone helps improve my mood, because I can’t talk like this in the pub to anyone. I’m knees-deep in the spirit world, and am just getting over my Full House over a week ago now, where I had between 25 and 30 presences in my flat with me. They have subsided now, and I feel more alone. Never totally alone, because I hallucinate the presences 24/7, but more so alone. It’s harder being alone than it is with presences, but I never wish to go back to them. The brain isn’t large enough to comprehend what is happening, so I kind of pretend to ignore it, if that makes any sense.