only one person knows my actual name.
Unless she went and got silly and .... . i have no idea who anyone is. Or what they are capable of...
A penname is utterly irrelevant. And there is an entirely innocent reason, in that a certain family, i haven't even encountered for 13 years, except once a step sister - one would have thought grown up at 25....nope...
One must accept something, militaristic rednecks no matter how educated they are in the arts, will - must, identify themselves all the rest of their lives, as against the pacifist.. the person who knows we are ALL full of cant and vanity, and somehow we must ALLways look for peace...always there is a way. Always.
But those who ally themselves with militaristic power even when young, never ever ever can revert to being human.
And i bet her and her family still online hunt for me hahh hahhh and try figure ways of sabotaging me...even now...
Irrelevant.
All that matters is in fact i survived 'them'. I havent't done what I - I, no one else, ME.. likes doing - write a real letter on a real piece of paper on a 'subject' that is human, and matters, for thirteen years.
So, i won. Not won anyone here and now, but their tragic little battling, then...
Bizarrely - please do not think that my version of telling true tales (never in name that anyone may locate - listen to audio #1 a few days ago), is unhappy!
I have never been happier the last few years.
And it is about finding a set of words which perfectly describe what all digital seems to destroy: it is beyond a fairly naff word like 'nuance'; quite simply one ay read a fairly bleak GOOD novel as a younger man - Dh Lawrence, even better HE Bates... Love for Lydia is a magnificent truth piece - ultimately bleak, but somehow fills one up with MORE than the truth, that humans can be very weird and nothing goes to plan. Whilst being bleakish it still adds something real and life affirming. Bates got that tone so perfectly. As did Mary Ann Evans in Silas.... the greatest bravest book ever.
LIfeforce.... great lifeforce...whist not hiding from the bitter and twisted truth
Only internalising reality, letting it percolate for sometimes years, and it may hurt for months...and be very uncomfortable as we unpick the illusion we weave around our own selves. and eventually airing it ALL fully in the bright sunshine, does one EVER end up with actual REAL 'balance'.
And that is always a gift. Never ever a 'manipulation'. And if only the younger 'middle aged' would realise the sooner they get to the final draft of the story of who we became - in that most earlier drafts are full of lies and self deceit, fuck me you cannot ever entirely relax...#
And i pity anyone still stuck ...not at relaxed peace....ALLways
I am
to be continued, properly, soon....
