I went out for a fag in the drizzle, and enjoyed both. While I was there a homeless man who has mental health problems started talking to me. I gave him a smoke because he seemed quite genuine. He didn't, for example, tell me he was going to have a fit when he wasn't, like that awful woman did the other day.
I started thinking of my friends, my best friend in particular, I can't find the words to say exactly what I mean. I'm also thinking of one 'virtual' friend, an aspergic lady I only know online, with whom I share a love of Eighteenth-Century music, and who is going through quite a time with MS. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Horrible. I value her friendship, in that we discuss the issues we face, in the full knowledge that the other person completely understands what one means.
In the meanwhile a miserable, scruffy old cunt has just told me off for typing too loudly. I told him very politely to get on with his stuff and to mind his own business. Cunt.
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