No blog no words no pictures no nothing - A notblog ending up as one.

I have given up my blog again, I have lost my Oxfordshire phone pictures whilst putting them on my computer and they have vanished entirely, the computer is playing up twat games and Deadly, my faithful cameraman, is on the verges of madness.

Blog has frozen, words have been repressed as quickly as it took someone (several someones) to tell me "You should be a writer, you should write, your words are so original and unusual and wonderful, you SHOULD WRITE A BOOK, YOU SHOULD WRITE EROTIC NOVELS"
Well, now I can't write.

I am frozen, the will has gone, and because creativity cannot be hammered inwards without coming out somewhere else, yesterday I did my first skirt in ages (for myself) and it is beautiful. White with black patterns and bits of gold.

I can't write, don't ask me to write, I never knew how to write but I enjoyed what I did.

THe compulsion to express was also tarnished by the fact my cousin Alain that I saw in France said to me cheerfully, at my brother's funeral, "AH, j'ai vu ton blog" (AH, I have seen your blog)
and my answer was sorry and "contrite", pulling my face downwards because I do have mental and emotional difficulty with my family as I cannot manage to accept telling them I actually work in a supermarket. I just can't lower myself to the point of telling them that. It is the shittest job on earth, it has no reward, nowhere to go and I am truly ashamed of it.
So him seeing my blog and saying it made me go numb.
I thought "What if he guessed what I did?" and that would put me in such horrible situation that I just can't. I can't admit to what I do. It is too shameful. Working in such a horrible store, which abuses people and farmers and takes their every penny, leaving them with hardly enough to buy a pint on sundays, to me is attrocious. ALl that, so that I can pay my silly rent.

My poor cousin, I didn't mean to be horrible and cut myself off away from him. He has not harmed me, he has done nothing to me; he is lovely, but I never see him, because I never go to the family parties, not feeling part of the family anyway and not wanting to be part of it. Why? Because I am revenging that little girl that never got the attention she deserved.
The adults today may give me attention but it is too late, I do not want it. I wanted it then. Now, I want to be left alone, though then, all I wanted was to feel accepted, and to be accepted for who I was, a mischievous little girl, extroverted, who liked to play the same joke over and over and over and over and over and over again.
Someone once said to me that the best jokes were the shortest ones and could I stop playing. So,I did. And I withdrew.

I want nothing to do with them, it is unfortunate; I don't hate them, but I need to let go of my resentment and of the bullying that took place them with some of them.

I feel sad towards my cousin. He is a lovely cousin. Maybe one day I will speak to him and admit to him the shameful job I am doing. Something which is so dangerous for the mind that it often make it trip; people get mad, they get lost, they try and get rid of themselves.
People who work there think they have no value. It is because whom they are working for has no value in themselves; the bosses are nobody, other than making loads and loads of money, buying ferraries, taking as much as they can for themselves, using GM foods, chemicals, processing foods so it is all lifeless for the population that will consume it, and all the rest, like vacuuming the whole sea and spilling mercury onto the fish so we get poisonned as a result. All that to appeal to a society of consumption, which I am part of.

And they treat their emloyees like shit. Can you simply imagine one moment, what it feels like to work in such a store where nobody cares about you? (and you care about nobody because they are all zombies and have no brains left and no compassion left neither)

I hate every minute of it. And I will not admit to it. I should not be doing that job, mindless, at 31. I should be doing my therapy thing, but that is so slow it doesn't pay all the rent, even though I get my wonderful regular clients (the ones that cook the world's best sourkrout afterwards) I do not get enough of this inspiring work. Plus, I would rather do a job that is a bit more serious, more normal and accepted by society. Well, it's my thought right now, and my thought always changes, so maybe I will think different about it tomorrow.

I really must try and find time for my receptionnist skill diploma thing.
Then, I would be able to change jobs, and sit in a comfortable reception, eating biscuits, browsing the web and doing my notblog, and when some business man would enter, I would welcome them and tell them which room they should go in to do their rolling on the floor seminar. (that is a new way of training of business men, I have had meetings when in Oxfordshire with a conference roomfull of them, and told them how to find their inner self and rolled on the floor, then asked them to pose on the table with their most seductive and confident stance, and other things. It was not easy. i am not used to talking in front of people. They kept eating sweets and doing their adrenals with coffee and chocolates. Ah, business men... A naughty lot.)

All that to say that my blog is temporarilly dead.