I’m back at Gilbert Arse temporarily, not to stay but to sit at my writing desk for a while. I’ve been in very good company for the last few days but it’s nice to have some time to myself and to contemplate. There are lots of people and things I’d like back but most won’t be forthcoming, I realise.
I could go to the library but at my desk, I can smoke while I write: a more efficient use of time. I shall go to the library later, type up the blog (I’m there and doing that now: the above was hand-written earlier (now, as it was then); mind fuck!) and read the Saturday Guardian and the new issue of New Scientist. Thereafter, I’m hoping to return to Tunbridge Wells – where I was last night – where dinner will be laid on for myself and other non-paying guests. Last night we had a rather agreeable beef stew (I think).
I’m currently eating brunch, which is a salt beef, gerkin, mustard and rocket salad sandwich on rye, from Pret (no sell-by date; no night life). Lunch is a choice between a prawn and avocado sandwich, or a cous cous, cucumber, tomato and green leaf salad with a mustard oil dressing. Whichever I don’t eat, I shall give away to someone more needy than me.
I’ve acquired yet more clothes, including a Weirdfish shirt / jacket (very cool) and some somewhat eccentric socks: the ones I’m currently wearing are bright green with yellow spots. I also have purple / blue, brown / red and orange / black: Peter Jones, eat your heart out. It’s accademic though, as the socks are covered by my LA Gear boots.
I’ve also acquired a Bible, courtesy of my friend Mike: it’s his own personal Bible, given to him by a friend and which he has now decided to pass on to me. He enclosed a note:
This Bible was given to me by a very good man, Peter Snell. He did many things for people less fortunate than himself and then hit his own bad times. Treasure this Bible and and take it with you and with God.”
Mike’s Bible is now safely and lovingly homed on my bookshelf and his pesonal note shall remain inside.
One of my other friends is getting me a pocket Bible, which I shall keep about my person, whilst Mike’s is kept safe (and it’s too big for my pocket). The Bible will be an ongoing read, inbetween the other books on my shelf and in my bag, which make up my reading list:
- The Brooklyn Follies, by Paul Auster (I’m about two thirds of the way through and still engrossed but I’ve not had much time to read lately, hence it taking to long
- The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, by Mark Haddon
- Wasted, by Marya Hornbacher
- Dark Heart Rising, by Lee Monroe
- A Week in December, by Sebastian Faulks
- Miracle of The River Kwai, by Ernest Gordon
Should keep me going for a while.
Being sans TV and DVD player, reading and writing are my main preoccupations but even if I did have access to the former, I’d probably eschew them in favour of the latter. Although I am planning on buying a radio next week to become re-acquainted with my beloved Radio Four and to make use of the earphones I happened upon yesterday (Bang and Olufsen, no less).
The thing I’m most anticipating next week though is meeting up with my mum. We’ve remained estranged but with the changes I’ve experienced over the last week, I felt a pull. And so I phoned her. I was relieved to be greeted by voicemail as I didn’t really want to speak to my mum. Rather, I didn’t want to put her on the spot and feel in any way obliged. So I left a message and would have fully understood if I’d not got a return call. But she phoned back. I’d made it quite clear in the message I left that there was nothing wrong; in fact, I stated my agenda: that I’d like to meet up for a coffee and a chat, as I feel now is a good time to start tentatively re-building bridges. We’re meeting on Wednesday and I don’t recall being this happy about a prospect for a long time. I’m not after anything and I’ll not ask for anything; just my mum back but she never left me.