I forgot how being alone makes me yearn. Those empty times when the memory roams down old forgotten tracks, faces rise from background and solidify, forming a net that catches my unwary emotions. I slide among these courses without an anchor or rudder, trusting in the current to not smash me on the rocks. Often, usually, that trust is well placed. Occasionally the pain is intense and sharp, my heart jumps onto a groove and I seek solace. It is my programme, there’s no way of knowing where it started but it feels like a nemesis, it will be with me at the end even if it isn’t what will actually end me.
Right now I’m approaching old age, or that’s what I’ve been told recently. It’s an odd thought and I don’t think I like it, it’s undeniable though, albeit rough. I’d like to think I’ll make love again to a woman with smooth skin and breasts not ravaged by children, that I’ll be of interest and I’ll add value to the life of someone whose body makes my heart beat faster. It was my belief that a man of integrity cares about things that are deeper, that he doesn’t mind as his woman grows older and less desirable. That her attraction changes and he adjusts. Maybe I’m immature, maybe you’d call me callous, I want to feel the lust as my hands and tongue explore hidden reaches as well as the intellectual stimulation as my mind explores hers.
I assumed that this desire would fade or lessen as time went on, it hasn’t. Instead, I now feel cheated that I denied myself that heart-quickening, blood-stirring in exchange for a partner of safety and security. It appears that I am not the animal that can live that way, and there is a lot of heartache now because I refused that awareness trying to live as someone else.
The yearning I feel being alone with no one to hold on to is bearable. I don’t need someone to care for me in the way others seem to, and the married life with the chaos of kids is acutely painful for me. The resentment towards my family for existing, bubbles along beneath the surface, revealing its contorted features starkly and irrefutably on occasion. The entitlement that my kids demonstrate offends me, when I’m giving up so much of my precious remaining time, why can’t they be different, appreciate me more, or something? It seems that is not their way and beyond lip service there is little in their manner that shows they understand, and I know my kids are much more appreciative than most. How do others manage when their every effort is met with contempt and indifference?
I’m writing this while sitting outside the swimming pool at 6am as two of my children are in there swimming. They are club swimmers, not merely recreational ones, and the investment in my time, and money, is not insignificant. The older one swims eight sessions each week and with my estranged wife recovering from an operation, and having been told she’ll be dead soon from cancer, no one else can do the taxi service. The younger daughter swims five times a week, and as the club gears up following the recent temporary easing of totalitarianism the club has changed the session times, so my two kids now swim at different times. My life feels like duty with no reward as I’m refused entry to the pool to watch training to see how my investment is going, and with swimming competition possibly coming back soon I’ll not be allowed to watch them compete either.
This might change, I suppose, if I allow them to inject me with poison and submit to constant dna harvesting through meaningless testing for mythical illnesses, and anyone who cares to look back at previous posts will know how I feel about that. So it all comes back to that, it’s not my kids’ faults that this is happening. This is yet another previously unrealised consequence of the covid scam. Another way it is damaging my life and harming my family. Yet another acquaintance today confessed to having taken the vaccine out of expediency in the full knowledge that it is a scam and useless. I wonder if he’ll be dead soon or on a list of those awaiting treatment for the side effects of poisoning.
And that’s another thing, side effects. It is a known thing, medications have a principal effect for which they’re prescribed, but they also have other effects which have to be mitigated by other ‘medicines’. It’s a nice little system for those who design, produce, market, and prescribe the shit demanded by this faulty model of illness that is programmed into us idiots. So, when a vaccine has, by the admission of its makers and marketeers, no principal effect, what is the point of it? Could it be that the side effects are actually the principal and primary purpose of the injection that so many, otherwise intelligent, people are getting? Without liability for these side effects, there has been no attempt to inform or protect the recipients. Instead it’s been pushed as the duty of all to ‘do their bit’ and ‘play their part’, accepting any issues as the price of unselfishness and duty, like the deaths of soldiers in battle who are engaged in fighting the good fight. There’s no mention of those who have been blackmailed, bribed, and coerced into their sacrifice.
The last big psy-op, otherwise known as WW2 did exactly the same thing and it worked like a charm. They lied and coerced many into killing and dying for an ideal that wasn’t their own. They murdered humanity then and they’re doing it again in the C-19 experiment, giving this generation a sacrificial memory to lie to their grandkids about. So the next generation can remember that when the liars call you to duty you suck it up and play your part, just as those actors and liars in the corridors of power are merely playing a part, acting out until their next role is presented.
When I’m dead and these words have been expunged by censorship of material that’s against the public good, and when all the millions of others like me have been silenced, the lies will become the facts, just as WW1 and WW2 did for previous generations. So if you’re having the jab so you can travel know this, you’re murdering humanity by your complicity and we all require more from you.