alone in the house where i live. alone throughout the day until about 5pm, -it’s a state of being which i kind of like sometimes, when i’m in the mood. i sometimes feel that i can use the alone time usefully, to work out things. Things about my self and my own mental make up. of course i could be wrong, and the truth is i am just some kind of dreamer, who can’t really get anything real done. The great hope is to achieve some kind of if not nirvana then something approaching that; to be able to live every day without shame, without being self conscious around others, without….etc etc

having said that i hate being ‘lonely’, i do not currently live ‘alone’ but i have in the past and found it to be terrible. when i lived in a flat in cardiff for about a year i really wanted to get things done, but found myself caught up in my own cold cell of existance. the same feeling when i had a flat in woodfield street Morriston.

yesterday in morriston, woodfield street, i saw a classic Karen encounter, a woman refused to move here car – and the traffic behind her stretched back a ways. i was in the bus immediately behind her, a ringside first floor seat. if only i had a camera phone that would have made it on to youtube. on the other hand…blah blah

alone, there shouldn’t be anything scary about it. But there is. I can only speak for myself. It is something else to be gotten over. If i am transient, and alone for a night or two in a hotel that’s okay. it’s the prospect of living in a flat or house by myself that – well i can tell that i’d be crippled in a sense, not able to physically get things done.