One Green Bottle

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Chapter 32

These conversations we had many times with people just people who were mad and ill and they shied away stayed out of my life soon afterwards speaking to me was a disaster for their benefits. and she is in the thrill of pretending kindness when she is full of hatred and vindictiveness that she can’t control towards me. The person she blames for her dullness and lack of perception which she has to kill in order to make up for her lost youth. She is the one whom the prince sends in order to kill me. ‘When he is incapable and can’t control his own demons’. His wife said so. She is Janet the poet whom nothing stops from being the assassin the foul proof crime the person who is the same as the prince as them all the prince impersonates to live the life he thinks should be not mine but his.

The prince like Sybil has many creatures like those he makes in the make- up room of his impersonations he has all the time in the world to do bad. He loves the madness of the chase as much as any crazed madman and I sometimes think he is the madder of them all. As he watches while my Valentine’s Day turns into remembrance of John who he tells me through her that he is dead. Now she tells me on Valentine’s Day that he is dead and who else will be dead? Has the lover seen me in my grief as I remember the times that Ratty was a man who was alive and well and kicking and writing bad poems? The books he had done the thoughts he had thought all gone down the road of dust as his wife and daughter now unite and run the house that was of ill repute.

The dilemma of any father was his respectability or nothing and he chose that which a decent father must chose. He could not choose anything else for that is life when a man has to do what a dad has to do. When a dad it is not the same as being anything else children’s happiness is like Jane Austen’s it has to be wrapped up in clean linen. That is what a dad is to wrap everything in clean linen.

He died happy editing hundred poets and now it is like Janet says over and done with maybe my turn? It is I who end the discussion it is over as I speak and Janet who has been enjoying herself is turned into a flabbergasted red individual whose life is without anything but spite. I wonder if she should be medicated for her own good. It is a life not worth the paper it is written on as she is. She sees everything as sexual as mincemeat as she is forever trying to justify her contempt of me. What justification could a poet have for killing the life that the poet has?

I wonder as I cradle myself into a ball and have a good long soak in the tub as if the years have treaded very heavily on my body as the bath runs and runs my time is draining into the bath as I soak the suds and the suds are gone.

What motivates the profession of doctors is to save lives. Even the ugliest deserves love. No it is the rich who deserve to live and the powerful they are the ones who have the doctors ears. They are the ones who matter but when the rich bow to illness then they are given the rites in a noble manner. If like me you are not rich? Then your benefits are income support and the manners of those who impinge in your conscience.

It was King George the Third who made mental illness an illness and now this creature of the day so beautiful the grand daughter is the one who made childbirth into an art and a fact that she is the grand-daughter of a mentally ill man and king and is important.

Now we deny the very things which we had fought to have instilled in the minds of society and have to rebuild social care as we forgot the old and the dying.

Not a communist. Indeed not so. I am an interested observer of this comedy of life which is the bestiality and the humble servant of one who has wronged a great man. In fact robbed him of something he wanted as his due. Indeed sorry but not everyone has to say yes.

I will now go and have tea and crumpets. That is how it should be on this day my day this is my day it is my life and I will not throw it away. Not for a king who thinks he owns the world as he is a shoulder that used to be now a fiend with the habits of the night. I will not scream for help anymore there is no point in screaming.

He might come with the knife to hack my paintings to hack my life he might send his boys round to try to get my livelihood he might do all manner of things in the daylight which he would not owe to. But he is there in the night following with his impersonations of the drug hell and the alcohol that is ruining his health. But what of that we can’t have it. He has had a good run and it is as well that he be seen to in the ground or outside I don’t care it is over with my caring for him. He is or was never my responsibility I care not a buck for his life it is my own I care for.

What manner of ending is this? I DON’T care it is my own ending it is the end of a story can end of a book. It is not even tragic for life goes on and on and suffering only becomes a thing of the past in the ground. What manners do you want to be the norm? Are we to look down on royalty on the rich and the powerful? No they are there to show us how little we are how despised we are what to aspire to. We all end up as communist or conservatives in the end there is no mean it is something I deplore it is something that happens like creatures in the night.

We become the exaggerations we want to forget we become the life we live we become the creatures and the monsters who are the things we have breathed in our time here on earth. This is the book this is my life on a plate this is me exaggerations and things included but all true because that is what happened and is going to happen and might happen.

“But goodness there is no conclusions? There is nothing but a full stop?”

“Are you disappointed that there is no gun slinging and no action and no drama except the sad ending of a great man who has become the monster he dreaded? That he lived and is nowhere in his world but the monsters he created in his illusions of himself as the most powerful becoming the ill person he is?”

“I don’t think he is ill.”

“Then what is this he has why has he grown into a shadow why doesn’t he leave me alone?”

“Because he wants to have you understand because you said no.”

“Is that word so difficult to understand for a man?”

“It is for some.”

“Will it make everything ok if I tried to become fat again?”

“I will object to that.”

“I don’t understand why he is doing this to me?”

“Try to rest.” Said Tom trying to comfort me understated me that is what it is there is no way he does not know or think he might know what he is doing is trying to feel the line and see if the fish will jump what about it all?

“He is trying to bankrupt the country. He is trying to corrupt my family he is doing everything possible to cause me to commit suicide.”

“Listen you aren’t to blame you couldn’t go out with him and he didn’t want to go out with you. It was a tragedy that never would have worked.”

“That is the tragedy of life things don’t always work out. I’m I to blame for all this? It is torture most extreme I don’t understand what makes life tick in me if I caused all the mayhem in the markets through faults of youth.”

“It is a fact of life that one doesn’t realise what one is. That you are being who you are could not have acted in any other way.”

“I need to know why I acted in that way. Why should I have acted in another way? Why should I have opened my thighs for someone who despised me so much?”

“Try not to think.”

“There is everything to think about but no head to think with.”

“The dog’s medicine has run out. And mum has told me this fact when the medicine was finished.”

The nurse came and I was happy with Tom and she heard us frolicking and me saying that I wanted coffee and cock In reverse order. It went downhill after that with me and mum rowing over a favourite cup she accidently broke with the oranges she has been eating. She seems to be in one of her days of hate. She seems to have gathered her strengths and spleen. She seems to be after the carcase she seems to be after my sanity.

I will never be happy as long as mum is there to see to it that I am unhappy. She seems to know that I have nowhere to go with Tom being a dossier who is staying with his mum. He got thrown out of the Salvation army hostel and is now camping at his mum’s waiting for her to die as same as I am waiting to be free.

Children copy what their parents did when they were unable to deal with their own lives and what has happened to us now? Separate and not involved mother is always saving and saying she is giving the Z everything because she has to have it needs it more than us and B does not even ask it of her and B is nicer than me.

You see the constant stirring of the pot can cause the pot to boil over. I am making sure the pot is well stirred so that it is cooler.

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