shitloads

And they all hang around in my head playing sitar..Al those thoughts and living thigns that happened recently and I thought to myself "I must write it down I must..." Because it was wonderful, or really interesting, or weird, or cool.

You know what? Maybe it's ok to be succesful and be paid for what we love most to do. ("living in the light" by Shakti Gawain which I was trying to read off this morning)
Maybe it's ok to allow ourselves to have money.

I was wondering about my relationship with money. I am quite scared to have money; money makes me feel insecure. When I have it, I fear something will happen to take it away from me or someone will steal it however. So when I have money, I get rid of it as soon as I can because it's a source of stress. When I haven't money, I feel much more balanced.

The thing is with money is that I fear that if I start earning a reasonnable living and it goes in the bank, then the banking system will collapse and my money with it (like Wall Street in the 30s) and all my savings will have buggered off. If I keep money at home, I am scared of someone breaking in and taking it away. So I put it in the bank, with the fear of it being taken away anyway.
I just don't know what to do with money. So I create situations in my life where the needs for money and teh income are always equal; so if I have money, something will happen to oblige me to get rid of it. Like a trip to France, or a bill, or taking my fox to the vet.
Strange thing, money.
But if money is really creative energy and is abundant the same as nurturing from the Earth is, and from myself to (myself) and otehrs, then indeed, it shouldn't vanish unless I act in a poor way towards my own self and don't pay myself enough attention.
Anyway, I learned yesterday that some people are comfortable having money and don't seem to feel too guilty about it. To be continued in the head, blablabla.

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It was an amazing morning. Lots of stuff happened and I met someone who is also reading the Shakti Gawain book! A meeting of similar minds or what?!!! They really recommended me to read "Conversations with God" by so and so, which is the only book I need to read if ever I was to read only on book in my life. So the book is now watching me in my bedroom, lent and will return to its owner. It's what happened to a bloke (the author) who apparently got to a really low point in his life and was baout to get rid of himself but one night, he decided to write a letter to "god" complaining about the fact his life had been horrible and he had no purpose and his wife had left etc. And somehow, after he finished it, something took his hand and prompted him to write for 3 days running the answers to his actual questions. Spirit, fairy, or God, whatever, a higher intelligence made him write without stopping and the manuscript was published one year later, and was a huge success.
The author is now a life coatch. I bet he is interesting! But the book to say what it wants to say...

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I really dislike air-fresheners, of any type, in a house. Why can't people realize those things are poison and they stink?

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I have missed Marie's birthday again.

------------------------------------------What happened on the night of the 11th after my gig: I went off to visit a friend and on my way back, went by central London.I felt in that shitty mood where I actually wanted to get myself out of patterns but felt really stuck, energyless, a bit down and feeling extremely lonely in such big city with so many people. The things I do in those cases usually bring on more loneliness and it never gets better till I get home.
Having had a really nice Japanese lunch with my friend in a very nice place, I decided I hadn't had any Miso soup and wanted one, so went off to Itsu in Wardour St. They had changed, their green tea didnt' come in a teapot anymore and their miso soup was a bit bof-like. I had a chicken soup which I felt guilty about as it's battery chicken and that was my diner, I was bored and didn't want to eat anymroe and feel like a poor alcoholic at the local bar.
So I decided to go and have a dessert in the organic Cafe in front of it, which was strangely, extremely busy. The waitress that Gregory likes, with the nice small breasts, arranged to ask a table with 2 people to see if I could take a seat to eat my berry cheese-free cheese cake and immune boost juice. That table actually had 3 people, the third one came back as I was sitting on the free seat. I moved down and one of the girls started talking to me with a very welcoming and nice voice, and I grunted back something which came out as very forced and antisocial and just not very nice, away from who I really am. (I dare hope this is not my best self)
They carried on chatting to each otehr involving me, which has hardly ever happened to me in my life, first, to share a table, and then, that they would talk to me.

It ended up as she asked me what I was doing later and I said I was just going home, like the alcoholic who is pretending he isn't one and actually has a home life. Either that or he has no friends.
She said they were going to the Soho theatre to see a play and her boyfriend hadn't been able to make it as he had other plans, so did I want the ticket? I said well, ok then, why not. But I felt very guilty as I wasn't very friendly really.
She was lovely, and so was he; their other friend was nice as well but quieter.
They had been to Thailand on a retreat to go yoga and things like that and were feeling very good. He was a dentist and she was a doctor; but they were attracted to the alternative ideas.

Outside, she was chatting to a bloke whilst we were paying and I didn't get the right change back out of my £20 which I dreadfully realized when I was in the theatre that I had £10 missing.
The bloke she was talking to said he was a dance teacher and I asked him of what, he said hip hop. He said he had a class tomorrow so I said I would try to come. I wanted to. I got very excited at that point by the prospect of joining a dance class, or at least trying one and running away straight after and never to come back.

The theatre play was JUSTIN BOND (see picture) who appeared dressed as a fairy at first. But looked like a woman. I got very confused.
The show was odd, interesting but creepy at times, and very american with the gun killings bang bang bang when the pianist who wasn't a woman told the story of how she killed the bloke she was in love with who had a fat girlfriend because he had rejected her.
I didn't actually like the show very much. But the pianist was a very good pianist and I laughed twice in total. The show was an hour and a half long. She/he had a good voice. Well, they all had. Shame about the stories really. They are a bit hurtful. I don't find hurtful things very funny even though other people sem to laugh at them.

But it was very nice of her to offer me the ticket! They all thought it was a bit strange so we went for a drink afterwards. I got them a coffee and a piece of cake (I resisted) and it was very sociable. A strange evening really, where things which normally stay in a certain pattern actually moved in a different direction. I waws very grateful, in my socially-unstable self, to have been lucky enough to meet them.

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The dance class: Hip-hop class which is only the basic steps and warm up but impossible for someone like me who hasn't danced for years, to follow. Marylebone, in the fitness studio.
The teacher person, a very young guy of maximum 22, arrived late and a lot of teenage girls followed him as he walked up the stairs to get to the room.
Teenage girls who all seemed to know each otehr and looked out of an art- drama type college where they would be doing dancing all day long. I felt out of place. But then again, i would feel out of place in any dance class in the world. It's the way it feels, dance classes are made to feel uneasy in. And then gradually, feel slightly better, if you are lucky or your body has some slight ability to pick steps up.

The guy didnt recognise me from last night and I didn't feel necessary to get his attention as I wans't really that sure about him. He was playing R&B music! That isn't hip hop! I was rather disgusted. I hate RnB. It's so boring! And cheesy! And all those "baby yeah love stuff blablabla"

Anyway, dance class was very intimidating but went sort of ok till I took my trainers off and then I felt really odd and started needing to hide. It was really difficult to follow their steps though, and there was this strange black bloke with sunglasses taking photos of us!
He ended up to be the second teacher and thank god he came on, he was a bit older than 25 and played...Some soul-funk music which was really good! He was really intelligent with his dancing (much better than the other one at charisma and teaching as well) he was a diva! I was really impressed. Well, many more black people have a good rhythm than white people... They have it in the blood.

The class wasn't very tiring unfortunately, and as I couldn't follow it all and gave up at 3/4, I stayed on the side and looked at the others getting together in a line and redoing all we had done in that hour. I was glad I wasn't in the line. I felt so self conscious to be bad at this, and not be able to follow and look lost. Teenage feelings. Not feeling I can be part of it, feeling separate, alienated and "not intelligent enough" to be as "cool" as the others. Will I ever grow up?
I stayed to watcht eh proper hip-hop classe which was going afterwards and I was glad I didn't pay for it. It was impossible to follow! Really fast movements like you see in music videos. Bloody hell!
I was so disgusted and I came out feeling I wouldn't go back to that class, really I need a dance class "for idiots who can't dance at all" which isn't full of teenage girls who dance all day long.
I hope such a class exists.
But anyway, a couple of days later, similarly to the Wing Chun, I actually feel like going back. Except I won't be going back to Wing Chun.
I have found another class where it's not like being in the army.

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