I need to add smoke and mirrors to the room of lamps and shadows analogy of Mr X. He is man-shaped toxicity. Walking away from one coke, one shandy and half a bowl of chips at the Courthouse with Mr X I closed my eyes and wished for an industrial chemical emergency shower. I wanted to tear off my clothes and blast away all thought of him using the fire hydrant on King St. Mr X is a man to be avoided.
He peppers his conversation with invisible suicide dives and lines every damn thing with bile. He smiled over his beer and talked of things meant to disarm whilst sliding across the table propositions of malice. He wants me to think ill of Elliot, even dragging out the ridiculous 'did you know Elliot is afraid of jelly?'. I'm well aware of Elliot's feelings towards jelly, this is unlikely to have any serious side effects. But he was sinister and nasty amidst the ridiculousness and I am dying to phone Elliot and tell him he was right all along. I urged him to contact Mr X, to maintain the friendship despite all of Elliot's objections. Elliot thought he was negative and toxic and I stupidly would not believe him because he formed this opinion before going to rehab. I was dying to phone Elliot and tell him but now I'm not so sure.
Yesterday walking down Botany Rd in Waterloo I stopped dead outside the supermarket and stared stupidly at a clay tile set into the pavers. Help make this a chewing gum free zone. I don't think so. Chewing gum is related to bubble gum and I love bubble gum. I went in to the supermarket to buy some but again stopped in my tracks. Artboy was in the chocolate, floor cleaners, soft drinks and pet food aisle. I followed him around the supermarket for five minutes before he turned around abruptly and sort of stamped a foot in my direction. It wasn't him. It obviously wasn't him and I don't why I thought it was. I left without bubble gum.
Sitting on the brick wall outside the supermarket I smoked a cigarette and scrolled through my phone looking for people to call [There's a Troy in my phone, I don't know any Troys this is very odd]. I phoned Ron and after niceties and listening carefully to Ron's news of the day he told me something that my brother had said. My brother said "Dale thinks that Elliot is her boyfriend. She must have had him lined up before Artboy went mental." All that resulted from this knowledge sits heavy and silent. I think I might need to have a lovely biscuit with a cup of tea. I've got some people to cross off my Christmas card list.
He peppers his conversation with invisible suicide dives and lines every damn thing with bile. He smiled over his beer and talked of things meant to disarm whilst sliding across the table propositions of malice. He wants me to think ill of Elliot, even dragging out the ridiculous 'did you know Elliot is afraid of jelly?'. I'm well aware of Elliot's feelings towards jelly, this is unlikely to have any serious side effects. But he was sinister and nasty amidst the ridiculousness and I am dying to phone Elliot and tell him he was right all along. I urged him to contact Mr X, to maintain the friendship despite all of Elliot's objections. Elliot thought he was negative and toxic and I stupidly would not believe him because he formed this opinion before going to rehab. I was dying to phone Elliot and tell him but now I'm not so sure.
Yesterday walking down Botany Rd in Waterloo I stopped dead outside the supermarket and stared stupidly at a clay tile set into the pavers. Help make this a chewing gum free zone. I don't think so. Chewing gum is related to bubble gum and I love bubble gum. I went in to the supermarket to buy some but again stopped in my tracks. Artboy was in the chocolate, floor cleaners, soft drinks and pet food aisle. I followed him around the supermarket for five minutes before he turned around abruptly and sort of stamped a foot in my direction. It wasn't him. It obviously wasn't him and I don't why I thought it was. I left without bubble gum.
Sitting on the brick wall outside the supermarket I smoked a cigarette and scrolled through my phone looking for people to call [There's a Troy in my phone, I don't know any Troys this is very odd]. I phoned Ron and after niceties and listening carefully to Ron's news of the day he told me something that my brother had said. My brother said "Dale thinks that Elliot is her boyfriend. She must have had him lined up before Artboy went mental." All that resulted from this knowledge sits heavy and silent. I think I might need to have a lovely biscuit with a cup of tea. I've got some people to cross off my Christmas card list.
Comments
what is it w/ these people who just decide something is true--and not just something, but something about us, and not just something about us, but something mean and untrue about us--w/out the bother of any sort of outside verification? and why are they usually members of our families?
i have similar feelings toward people who lie. i am bewildered each time i discover there are liars in this world. i thought i was an idiot until an excellent lady called jen told me it's because i am honest.
Ah go on.
Go on.
Go on.
Go on.
Its got cocaine in it.
Oh wait.
I mean raisins.
My apologies to anyone who is not a Father Ted fan and momentarily thinks that I am offering strangers illicit substances.