...blokes
Audio here too. Even if that was a specific personal bridgey communication...
Now, in great ... (there is no word for) ... well i know what it is, a sort of force of character BUT never ever forceful... (afterall as per last audio to my own huge shock i spent a lot of time over 13 years gently underwinging 5 or 6 young adults, and i never wanted to be within a screen'sview distance of any of them (Kyle the first me sat lamenting his laptop screen 13 years ago, in a cafe " just wondering ... those 350 Fakebook friends showing there on your screen, my friend, i hope you don't mind me asking, but i have always wondered are any actually your friends...... what is a friend to you?" followed a simply superb monologue about how lonely and unhappy he was, with no friends...
Anyway i didn't want to become his, in real life.... but he wanted that in the best organic manner and thus it came to pass... I was even there a year later when he heard from his lying family they had lied and his dad wasn't actually dead, but alive and well in Australia not faking being alive there, actually hunted down on fakebook ...
Short version you don't get to be ok with half a dozen yoof (no 'safeguarding' for me - one is terrified without it - allies! needed..a protectorate...so many of them truly warped, . ally must be female ... as audio describes) unless you are ok - they have goodish radar
good for me..
(and all this must be put on one simple page about not 'listening' to the 'new age' therapocracy... because they have nothing to say - being someone - gentle mentor to half a dozen spotty yoof over a period of 13 years, when one knows its dangerous AND a waste of time, purely solo - no institution to protect oneself with, absolutely one to one.... .... is in fact real therapy - i.e. Be-ing the very last identity you wish and KNOW is a disaster to be... is best 'therapy'... )
And quay to life.
But even better 'therapy'.... is
And lucky people like me have regular proofs they are completely sane - or as sane as any fair assessment may describe (how trendy of De Botton to sell himself on 'we are all mad'....how subtly traumatic monsterish)
2020 that so glorious year (except for poor local 11 year old so flayed alive by lack of 'community')... THE one realm of modern life - even my previously beloved very rural realm life, one knows to avoid, is the world of the horsey...
consuming nags and very expensive nag accessories (even f the year before i consumed her smile) an Apocalypse of self regard and creating barriers between those who have (expensive riding gear and boxes) and those who know better.
But then..... along the principles of almost 'do the opposite' (to what you know is the only good safe pathway), take a left turn and jump over the cliff, to the nag paddock down below...
And my my...how much real human nature i existed for a year or more....
And they even trusted me - and they can smell a Trojan horse a km away... as insider, admitting "us famines of the gee gee world... my my we are so avariciously brutalist the masculines dont stand a chance.."
Another day. Except that to me, reality, should be ...'art'.