Monday morning, 24th January

Sitting back in my morning place: by the bay window looking out into the darkness. Watching the gradual awakening of the street. The birds on the roof opposite, the children dropped off with Diane across the road, the cars which head east up the way to another destination.

Monday morning. The weekend was a tough one. I didn't enjoy it one bit, but it's taught me a lesson: don't trust anyone because they are venomous snakes and will bite and devour at the first opportunity.

Although it was an opinion of someone who doesn't matter to me it still cut me deep and, because someone I do value added salt to the wound, the soreness festered.

No one likes me because I don't work. That word. Work. My mind doesn't work either, but they cannot see that for the reality it is. A man who has severe mental health issues - and has cut his own wrists as a cry for help - thinks he knows what the remedy to my problems are! But his problems are fathomless. They go so deep it's hard to know where the reefs and sharks are. But they are there.

He is an ignorant arrogant self-centred wanker who sees only his thoughts as anyone's thoughts. He thinks his thoughts are other people's thoughts. He thinks he knows what other folks are thinking about me. He collected up all his anger towards me and told me everyone I know doesn't like me. It sounded so childish like I was back in the playground.

Even if it is true that everyone hates me what difference does it make whether I work or not, or whether I breathe or not... People appear to resent me constantly - all through my life they have bullied, pushed and shoved me to the bottom of the pile.

Someone once told me he wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire... This same individual thinks I am an attention seeker, but he turned up to the pub au Naturel just to appeal to folks attention... He's gone however. With his miniscule penis and alcohol addiction to the cell he needed to bash his head against...

He still exists, but not for very long. The worm which is eating him inside, and has devoured his soul already, is preparing to eat what remains - he's hanging on by a thread.

Not so long ago I realised that a true curse will do what it explicitly states if it is meant deeply enough, to the core of being, luckily I can resist the call of the power of a curse, no matter how many folks slander me.