Sanity was Dying

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Chapter 4

I have failed all my life that is when I became a slave. I am so good for you all. I am a good man. I have given up my slavery in order to make you the envy of the world. Learn knowledge is power. Because of course you all did not know. In the 1990's even than there was slavery in Britain?

Dad loved the idea that he would never have to work ever again. He would just have the goods and nothing to pay. A voucher for the slaves would repay them. After some years they would be entered in a draw and if they win they could even be rehoused. In the meantime they can live on hope.

The things which crashed through my mind. Never mind the rapes of mother as she said he raped her nightly. Well as long as it is not daily. How would you know about my life behind doors. She snarled at me.

The prostitutes and the drug addicts their methods of getting what they have to get. Slipped my mind. Mum was something. I am involved in a gang. She jeered at dad as he closes the door to go out.

And what did it matter nobody wanted to know them socially. Out cast not even slaves but beauties with bodies. We the clean and the clever, We the mean with the phraseology.

Trying times for us all we have the good feeling that life is beginning anew. This is no longer. The things we need a break from past mistakes and misfortunes. We did bad and now we need to start afresh and get ahead.

Teaching staff used to say the same thing. Always this new fresh start with the less difficult people who go ahead and get ahead.

We now in some land where there is no better nothing changes at all. It is a life. They said before some years had passed mum and dad that was. Now they cannot stand the place.

It is preying on me the mindfulness of others. The failed attempts at life. She did not like me. She disliked me she does not know me. She understands nothing about me? No one of them do. Why is it I who did nothing throughout life?

I am this meaningless creature. Why are you telling me this not when I was a psychologists? Because you put words into my mouth like something rotten. Why deny us the time together when the time is running out? The things which matter are not about being together always like being tied inside the apron strings without the apron but somehow tied there nevertheless. The thing was there is not much to say to one another. I was out.

When time runs out. I will get out and around and then they will get me. Who will get you? The family who have been trashed and smashed. I am no longer logical. There is no knowledge inside my head people just do not want to know. They will come for me. I am no one. Not important. They will poison him and when he when he does not exist anymore. They will come for me.

What is the matter with that? I am the woman who he forgot. And thought I lived in his pocket. One does not live in someone's pocket. Selfish thought lived for no one but me. I wanton wanted him. I lived on the sly in order to behave well so he can go limp. One lives outside and makes domestic mistakes.

The world is her oyster. I only got a oyster card from the disability. How dare you how very much dare you speak to us like that when we are the better off.

Maybe it is. May maybe it is further from the truth maybe I am nothing to anyone. Because I do not care anymore. Who I belong to what time. I am in how I got here and maybe there is nothing in this life for me. But the dying wish which my adopted mum had. Zeks senior who went away did not return but left a replacement who was replenishing her gold.

That I might die alone and nothing. Adopted dad said may I die without love. Passing me by I shoved him into the chair.. So why did it not matter anymore. What they thought because they thought too much. That we do behave. We distaste you. What we do dislike and that makes us the very much foolish.

Why were the clinicians very interested in her and her words. And when she said kill Tom. What did she mean? Kill manhood. Why was not it written down. What she said what does it matter when she really meant something very difficult different even not the word kill.

"My world is the better one." She said.

Why is the psychologist putting words into her mouth. What is less empowering is what does one see in her. What does one feel for her? The heroic victim. The disaster the literary failure. The fool who thinks she is better than us. Especially me.

The family sat down in judgement it is the day of reckoning.

"Kill or kick her out."

"We are above suspicion so we will never be caught."

Why is she obsessed with the romantic poets? Why is she eaten with them. Why is she into their lives as well as their poems. Why did she feel more for their little children dying and them watching on helplessly? What does it matter to the generous public. When they too can watch as well?

Why do you seek? Nothing I would say and shatter the calm nothing comes of nothing. Than you are not a poet but I am that.

"Murder is happening and she is talking about poetry."

"Stupid writer. Stupid girl."

"Is why I am not giving anything of mine to you lot.

“I would give my right arm for the things which I seek someone said.”

In the circles I went to authors are asked what can you give and some have given such a lot. In cars women must have given the things which the valued. Look this is not on.

“I would give up my day job and become a full-time writer?”

“Nobody wants you.” The tutor said going to the side of the man who would give up his right arm.

“My dear fellow a true writer.”

“How would he write if he did not have an arm?”

“He would use machines.”

“Then technically the machine will become the author. I do not read what machines write.”

“You are not saying another word she has spoilt the moment.”

Let me begin this literary story with the strong little comment about the day which we live in it is humbug. Well it is what does the word mean. It is without a doubt one of those things which says do what I do but not what I say. We say very wise words and we mean well. But when it comes down to it well it is all up for grabs.

That is why we have the word which states plainly humbug equals us. Which we as the 21-century people are. Hurrah this is England and we live in the age which one tells. Everyone one is useful and good and comes home not to do the dishes. But to have sex and then put the cat out. Not the children because they are out.


“Just out.”

“Did they come out or what?”

“I haven’t seen them in a while so do not know.”


“Try it and see.”

“Tastes like vile.”

“No, it more it might taste nicer.”

“No thank you I have gone off the stuff.”

“What does a woman have that another wants?”

“Something rotten like a husband with the purse strings.”

“No, we worry now endlessly about money. Our men do not. Do that anymore. He does not love me. ”

“You mean he has come out as well?”

“He does a sleeping partner.”

“When does he sleep?”

“In their bed.”

“So, he does not pay child maintenance?”

“No, my daughter lives with them as she is more secure with them, I have to work.”

“That is nice for her all that insights?”

“Well they are sort of been together ten odd years.”

“What does it do to society especially children to be tossed round to such an extent?”

“That is her dad.”

“He lives in a tax heaven and does not have to worry about anything at all.”

“It is rotten is it not?”

“Not reality of today?”

“Too many prattles get on with the story.”

“Beautifully staged managed Jeff come and clean the actress up. She has been crying over the script. Mostly this is delicate. I have been dumped. I am devalued. My wife is able to write better stuff.”

“My dear here I am.”

“Go away B this is most definitely not yours? I can see it well if it had been but for a frog to have written it. My sister was dementedly in love with me. "

"Demanding money always."

“Taking the food off our mouths again?”

B says this so many times.

“I can wring your neck.” Said the actress called Jane and what nags me is there was not much he asked about me.

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