OU blog

Personal Blogs

Saint Lucia

Something to clear up

Visible to anyone in the world

Hello, darlings. 

Not my monkeys; not my circus. 

That is the best placative thought that entered my head during the course of last night's failed attempt at a good night's sleep. It very nearly led me into a relaxed state of mind but, by the time it occurred, it was already morning. And now, the day is early and a serious sentiment is rife for the blogging. 

This serious sentiment appears to me as being highly important for the same reasons as I often blog in the past, although those times are usually when I have had a deep and resonant dream, or if I'm worrying about study. I also blog when I've had a perturbing day, or am having a difficult period. And I like to investigate these things, and what better way to investigate than through a personal record? They always come to something. 

Now, I am not a misogynist. At least, I don't see myself as such. I do like to make fun of women, sometimes, as I like to make fun of my friends, and family, and celebrities and politicians. I do not think I am a misogynist. I think I may have said some edgy things about women to certain people, not least one of my best friends, and these have always been tongue in cheek. I don't like it when people talk down to women, or when they talk lowly of women, or when they are vulgar about women... Just like when people are racist - I don't like that. 

And when we interact in society, there is a threshold. With the advent of technological advancement, and social media, etc, we have been conditioned to feel like we have to interact a little more than is strictly necessary. We are actively encouraged to post comments on every news item or other nuance of media; that is, we now feel it is our duty and right to make a comment on whatever topic that is put before us. It is indeed an anomaly. Society is now interactive in a way in which it never used to be, and perhaps we are only getting used to it, or perhaps we have gone down a wrong path. There is no God-given law that says we absolutely have to get involved. This brings about the advent of trolls, and it is a natural progression of technology. I miss the days when we only had four television channels. 

Now, this pandemic, with it's restrictions in the form of social distancing, lockdowns and masks, considerations of hygiene, and conspiracy theories and the vaccines, well, it has encumbered a difficult year. We have had a year of these restrictions and this narrative, in which everybody has been involved. So now that things have recently eased up a little, I guess it's only natural that we should have to relearn to adjust to social interactions.

As soon as the day arrived, I got myself back in the gym, and started going as much as possible. Things seemed to be going well. If you'll remember before the pandemic even began, I think you'll recall that things were slightly tense, and I myself put this down to Brexit, and the tensions of that anomaly. They certainly were tense, I recall! I recall having to put myself through some sort of "beef" whenever I chose to visit the local shops to have a coffee. It was a frequent occurrence that I would find myself in some sort of trouble with some or other man or woman, and so frequent that it started to make me unwell, and I vowed to commit suicide. Of course, in the end, I was exposed to a miracle of nature and science and religion that meant I did not have to hurt myself, and things turned out alright. To a degree... 

Last week at the gym I was standing outside in the forecourt, and smoking a small roll-up. I had had five minutes to kill before I was allowed to enter, due to their new rules of the app. And I was minding my own business out in the open, next to a fence. Occasionally, people would walk by, and pay no attention to me. Then, a minute later, a mother with her child in a buggy walked by and stopped by the corner of the fence. I had no idea why she stopped, but she appeared to be tending to her child. I was nearly done with my roll-up, and had previously tried to smile at her, when she said, "Can you go away, please?" 

"I'm sorry?" I said. 

"Can you go away, please?" she said again. 

"Can you go away?" I retorted. 

It turned out she was upset by my smoking a cigarette near her child, or more accurately that there was a nursery nearby. Was she right to be so rude? I was way out in the open, and the lady continued, "Just be a pleasant person!" 

I was astounded and said, "I am a pleasant person!" to which she looked utterly exasperated and to the sky and said, "You are not a pleasant person!"

In the end I told her to fuck off. I mean, the nerve of it. To literally stand there and tell me to go away, and then accuse me of being an unpleasant person. I wonder what about me affords that effect. 

And then today, on two accounts, something strange happened. 

First, and I don't care too much about this - although I would love to know what is going on in her mind - an old friend of mine was walking past and I tried to say hello, and she basically ignored me. It's perturbing and unnerving, but I won't talk to her again. I think she is arrogant. 

Second, as I was sat outside the coffee shop reading a book, with a recently purchased Americano, waiting for the arrival of my two friends Charlie and Julia, I was approached by a lady, who went to take a chair, you know how they do... "Can I take this," she asked, already half off with it. 

"I'm waiting for my friends," I said. 

"There's two chairs there," she said. 

"I have two friends coming," I replied. 

"Well, they're not here so I'm taking it," she snorted and smugly smiled, snatching the chair away. 

Unbelievable. So rude. 

So anyway, whatever happened next is of no concern to anyone, and I will relate it in due course. But the whole day has left me wondering, what is it about me that these women think they can be as rude to me as they please? 

Now, I'm not a misogynist. I love women. But I haven't got the time for these plain ladies to whom I owe nothing, but to whom they seem to think I do. 

Are you a plain lady? Do you feel like I owe you something? Please explain to me what I owe you in the comments and we can arrange a meeting. 

Yours sincerely, 

Daniel

Not my monkeys, not my circus. 

Permalink 2 comments (latest comment by Daniel Frederick Best, Thursday, 29 Apr 2021, 15:01)
Share post
Saint Lucia

A general overview.

Visible to anyone in the world

Greeting to you, 

And again I start aimlessly, but with a general view to outline some situations; there I begin, but whence do I continue on? 

The work, I maintain, is something on top of which I am, I believe. Yet it occurs to me that I have discovered a downside to my academic activities as well. That is, I have limits. It seems that I fail to fully engage myself in each and every exercise with which I am faced. In fact, it is true, I rarely complete the exercises. Nevertheless, my system, of writing down the main ideas (notation, formulas and derivations), and a few examples, seems to suffice. I then can come to the end part of the particular unit material on which I have worked, and, in effect, I complete the notetaking part of all units relevant to the given TMA, and then I have no choice but to pursue work with the TMA, and that involves the actual practice of mathematics!! I have nearly completed the notetaking part of the final unit related to this endeavour, and will have done so by the end of tomorrow. So all is well. Yet, on the issue to do with my limitations, I find this very irritating. It is true that you tend, as your studies progress, to further employ the tools of your prior investigations - that is, for example, I once struggled with many differential calculus topics, and many algebra topics. But, the occasional identity law, such as for sines and cosines, notwithstanding (and these are easy to look up when necessary), this is no longer a great hindrance. I have some knowledge about mathematics, having studied for as long as I have, and I imagine that you only increase that knowledge as you progress. That latter observation seems at times the strangest of anomalies and, although some say they have ceased their learning career, I believe I am only at the beginning of mine, at any given moment. 

I have letters after my name! I may now refer to myself as Daniel Frederick Best, Cert HE (Open). That is, I have completed no less than one year at higher education, and have the certificate to prove this. And very soon, within the next few months, I hope I will be able to boast a Diploma of higher education, too! I await confirmation of this recent achievement, for which I am in communication with the university to have my middle name printed on the physical credential. 

Today, a Saturday, I woke after a long Saturday lie-in, and had a shower, and looked at the internet. A facebook acquaintance's father had died, so it was all about him today. In fact I avoided the website, so as to pay my respects. Poor Neil. But soon I resolved to walk to the shops, to purchase some stationery, and drink a coffee with a friend, Charlie. He arrived, and we had coffee, and then I saw Tamsin. Since Charlie had to run some errands, it was meet to talk to Tamsin alone, and I interviewed her. "Tamsin," I said. "Have you ever been in love?" 

"Love is an illusion," she replied. 

"Have you ever loved anyone?" I said. I asked this as a psychological test, because I know she doesn't really love me. Tamsin doesn't love me. "I think you pity me," I propositioned. "You pity me, don't you?" 

She said she doesn't. 

"Sometimes, you talk as if you pity me," I said. It is true. Oftentimes, whenever I talk to her, I tell the good things, and I tell her the bad things, and she adopts this tone of voice like the bad things might be the end of my world. 

She said she doesn't pity me, but went on with a diatribe about how she imagines it must be a hard slog, all this work I'm doing. But I still can't get through to her. She's impenetrable. I have found some women all but too easy to understand, but Tamsin, I do not understand. 

"At least you love your mother," I said. 

"She drives me crackers," she said. 

"Good thing you like crackers," I joked. And then she had to go. 


I want to change my life. I really want to sort my life out. 

Sometime ago, I lost a lot of weight. I was, at my heaviest, over twenty four stone. And at my lightest I went down to seventeen stone. Since the first March lockdown, I have gone back up to perhaps nineteen and a half. I want to regain control of my weight, and that means re-joining the gym, which I will do in the new year. 

And I think my life would be a great deal better were it possible for me to stop smoking. I spend at least fifty pounds a week on roll-up tobacco, and I often fantasise the life I would have without the little bitches. I have quit before, you see, back in my college days, and I stopped for at least six months. Then, on a whim, I decided that quitting had proved to be the easiest thing to do, and I started again, and found I was unable to stop. Then they increased the price of tobacco, and stopped us being able to smoke indoors at bars and coffee shops. It's an idea I'm toying with, but at heart, I know I'd be so proud if the little bitches left my life, I say. There is one glaring drawback, and it pains me to admit but, seemingly due to the nature of my illness, when I go without tobacco for several hours, I literally begin to trip out! That is, I get high!! In fact, you would think this is a good thing, and perhaps the anomalous situation could be controlled with a nicotine chewing gum, or patch. It's one of those things you couldn't understand unless you had walked a mile in my moccasins, but it's absolutely true. I begin to hallucinate without tobacco; that is, tobacco brings me down from this high state. Nevertheless, I think it would be a fine thing, the life I would have without being a tobacco smoker. 

And the final issue, that could change my life, would be if I could sort the flat out. The kitchen is in constant need of cleaning, and I rarely do the bathroom chores. I do, however, make sure I'm on top of everything else, like the washing, and feeding the cats, and, now I have an electric toothbrush, cleaning my teeth more regularly. But what I'm thinking of doing now is borrowing a hammer and bolster from my father, and starting work on the things I want to do within the apartment. I want to make a start with taking out the mantlepiece. And my dad himself has suggested that, when he has a little free time, we can begin working at putting down wooden flooring here. I have told him I would like to pay him - but maybe he will see it as a project. 

I had a dream that I was back in construction. It was such a lovely dream, and I worked with familiar workmates on a room in a house, that needed rendering work and carpentry, and I was able to solve many evident problems. And yet, what made this dream so lovely was the fact that I seemed to resolve some issues I had back in the day, when I was in construction. And I woke, and wished I was a builder. 

Building is a job that is a far distant memory now. I was talking to Eugene, and I said, "I'm doing all this hard mathematics, and I know I used to be in the game, but nowadays, I could never do what you do." I think this was typical of the kind of flattery I like to impress upon people, which is perhaps false, and dishonest, but nevertheless I do it. And the funny thing is, people can be so narcissistic! Eugene said he would have liked to have done engineering. I said, "You have plenty of time." He said, "I know, I know." So why wouldn't he do engineering? Is it because, when all is said and done, he can't? Study is not easy, but everyone thinks they can do it. It belittles your efforts. I'm in mathematics and physics because that's what I've done. If it was so easy, why don't you do it? Anyway, in short, people are narcissists. 

And on that lovely note, I leave you! 

I'd better not. 

I'm going to play some guitar now. Then, after an hour or so, I shall play some game or other on Nintendo Switch, and then I shall go to bed, and it will be another day, although it will be the same day, and I will live it again and again, and I think that is rather lovely. 

Regards, 

Daniel

x

Permalink Add your comment
Share post
Saint Lucia

New blog post

Visible to anyone in the world

Hello, hello and hello. 

Yesterday, and from a little, tiny, kind of huge pig out the day before, I woke up and got straight out and went for a long walk around my town, that lasted for over an hour. It felt great, and by the end of it, as I neared my little area, I noticed that I was high as a mother, from the exercise and endorphins I had experienced. Then the day went on, and I was able to take a small rest in the mid-morning, and it was a fine nap from which I was awoken by a knock at the door, which was an Amazon delivery woman whom I mistook for a man, by calling her "Bro!" (this sort of felt good, for some unknown reason), and she had delivered an HDMI cable that I ordered so that I could connect up my SNES mini to the new box that I received from my neighbour. In fact, my neighbour was drunk in the afternoon, and making a nuisance of himself, by his own choice in the forecourt of my (relatively small) estate, and began the endeavour by picking on two council workers with a ladder, and they seemed to take this action with the correct amount of skepticism, and did their best to ignore his drunken japes. John is a great bloke. I have called the police on him twice. Once when he was insulting me in my apartment, the second when I opened my front door and he drunkenly barged in. We've had our ups and downs, but we can see eye to eye on most things and, in fact, despite his misgivings and the fact he has spent time as a prison inmate, John is harmless, and a lovely bloke. I don't even believe he is an alcoholic; he just likes a drink. What's the harm in that? In any case, I have some footage of his conduct, and it gives me a great deal of amusement to watch him in action. We are all slightly bored in this quarantine situation (which might I add is an unbelievable construct in an otherwise relatively boring life, and I think God must be a wonderful story teller to have written all this. Amen. ) 

But today, I went for no long walk around Mill Hill. However, I was awake at an early hour and chose to sign straight in on the PC to check emails and do some preliminary administerial work, and then immediately after got down to study. The day's engagements in this endeavour began with an attempt to compose myself in the manner of finishing off section 4 of Unit 22 - Bose gas and crystal structure. The entire lockdown and quarantine situation has seemed to have given us a chance to organise ourselves (at least it has done for myself) in our daily lives, and also given us a nice break from the rat-race that was becoming a terrible drain, you must surely admit. I found, in my endeavour to study, that I do tend to get distracted quite easily. I have, in this matter, a series of goals such as a long-term goal (attain a professional degree in my best subjects), an even longer-term goal (to gain a masters or yet higher level credential in my best subjects), and these finicky little short-term annoyances, that I find I must immediately attend to the very second they arise. They can become quite bothersome, but in fact they are quite necessary and, in fact, once they are done they are done and out of the way. These are menial tasks such as might be tending to a small piece of litter on the floor, or something similar, or brushing debris off the table, or making roll ups, or a cup of coffee. But once they are done, they are done, and there it is, and there you have it. However, such tasks as these are also invasive in the process of the course of my study. So the short-term goal of finishing to understand a paragraph from the university website, today, was inundated with all manner of distractions, in the manner of turning to Wikipedia to crystallise a concept, and then finding another concept and searching that one, and then another concept and then another. In the end the culmination was a web-browser complimented with a number of Wikipedia tabs connecting to a vast array of subjects and, in short, the endeavour was dappled with an intensity of learning which I found most illuminating and was both surprised and grateful at the things I was discovering. 

At around midday, having recently realised that my local hardware store was remaining open (we all love hardware stores), and wanting to replace a watch battery in my best watch that had recently run down, I chose to go to the local town to amend the situation, and went there, and by walking. I fixed the watch (it cost £6.99), and I went about to different stores -  the local Turkish one (bought vegetables for lunch - genius!) and the local Iceland (for rice and Chinese sauce, and also a box of mini savoury eggs for the local tramps lunch). As I sat waiting for a bus, I met a lovely man, an acquaintance who frequented the once-open coffee shops around Mill Hill reading books, and he sat at my bench and we were able to engage in a polite conversation. I realised afterwards how pleasant it was to finally talk to someone with a human face, which I did with relative alacrity, having not done so for over a month. Yes, I was most surprised to hear myself discussing the topics of my studies in quantum mechanics, and it was a great feeling - one that gave me a great deal of satisfaction and complacence in myself and things I have learned. Sometimes everything comes out. But then I did get a bus and went back hoe, and was pleased to continue the distracted work I was doing. But it was alright. 

I went out later, too. I went up to meet my parents at around six o'clock at their home, and spent some time in the garden talking to each of them. It was very lovely - my mum had borrowed a blood pressure measurement device from her auntie, which I needed to take note of my blood pressure, due to a recent change in medication. I spoke to my dadsie - he was talking about a science show he'd seen on box - and we were having a nice discussion. It's nice when you can get along with your folks. I'm so glad I'm in a continual state of awakening, in which I'm always and every time appreciative of their state of being still alive. They are still relatively young, and you hear of such terrible things when they eventually pass. I feel fortunate to still have them around; to still have the opportunity to get to know them better, and to share everything with them that goes on. So much happens. So much goes on. 

I walked home - it was slightly chilly. I jogged part of the way and, not wearing my glasses for whatever reasons, began to feel self conscious about my beard. When I was arrived back at home I was recipient to a call from Tamsin, the girl I claim is my girlfriend. She likes my beard apparently, but when we got off the line, I shaved it off. 

Anyway, there it is, and there you have it. 

Best wishes all, 

Dan


Permalink
Share post
Attachments:
image/jpegsister and son.jpg
Saint Lucia

A basic entry about a basic Tuesday

Visible to anyone in the world
Greetings, and welcome all blog lovers. 

Well, what an interesting night last night was! The details of it you can find within the sentences and sentiments of the blog I wrote at that time, but in short, I was halfway through my interjection when I decided to stop and try to sleep, and yet I could not sleep, and had to come back to the work and complete it, all the while under the influence of a full quarter of a sleeping tablet. Such was my motivation, borne out by that unsettled feeling of an incomplete day. 

In the morning, and from the reading of a paragraph from a book about habits and changing them, I tied up my shoelaces and finally went for what happens to be the second of my life's attempt at jogging. And I jogged down what they call Uphill Road, in little bursts, my lungs straining from the previous days smoking tobacco, and it was difficult and tiring. I wish to explain, that my motivation for such conduct is a continuation of the events of the past few weeks during which I seem to have been going through some major changes. I got down, in any case, to the mead at the bottom of the road, and yakked up my coffee into a bush there. I could have decided to take the A41 back up to my home, a direct route, but, by the dint of trying to get in touch with my true whims and feelings, I chose to go down and through the Broadway in Mill Hill, and did so, in little bursts of jogging, and say for a moment at the bench near the Mill Brew coffee shop (closed at the moment that is now), and went up on the Millway route, towards Apex Corner, where my home is. And I saw John, my Romanian acquaintance, who was most impressed with my conduct, and complimented me. (He wore a mask, and was going to work). It was nice to see him. 

Back home now (and I wish not to be crude about the matter), I noticed the bowel loosening effect of half an hour's exercise, and also washed under a temperamentally hot and cold shower, and felt a million times better than the way I did through the night, which was not a nice night, of sleep, or feelings. 

The day continued as like any other day, although decorated with a feeling of healthy design, and I pursued a breakfast of a single slice of toast with hummus, and a glass of water, and I set about, at the desk, by catching up on my social responsibilities, by means of my iPhone. I checked in with an old friend, Oliver, with whom I shared a couple of comments on the topic of family and exercise, and made my regular interactions with my main point of contact in this time of lockdown, a certain Martin Katz. I feel I should illuminate his life in a book. He is a good man, and an old sixty two year Jewish man, and he took a liking to me many years ago when we were in a mental hospital at the same time, and where we met. We've been friends ever since, and had our ups and downs, and what a sweet and spiritual presence he certainly is. He's been an absolute Godsend over the last few weeks, in which time I have needed such a friend to help me through. I would have been at a loss without him. His patience in my failure has brought me to tears in a moment of need. I have often brought him to tears, but he has repaid me tenfold, and I'll never forget it. However, our conversation this morning was a short one, relatively, compared to the hours we spend in facetiming. In fact, there was a hint of testosterone influenced shortness to the correspondence; yet we both seemed to understand one another. I knuckled down and continued on with my work which was to complete Unit 21 of Science module S217 - mathematics and physics, and did this until my eyes bled with tiredness and, in truth, I began to hallucinate I was as sleepy. 

After two and one half hours of study I decided to rest and catch up on the sleep of which I was deprived the previous night, and it was a rest so dotted with the freckles of the effects of medication (amisulpiride), that I spent two hours in it, and once I was awakened by a facetime from Martin, I realised I could remember my dream. 

In dream, as I sat near my mother, on a couch in the sunlight, I became aware that she was sent a letter - in fact, a correspondence from my open university tutor - which was a marked assignment that showed I was not achieving the highest marks of which she thought me capable. Upon her indication to me of this, that many of the equations had come to be wrong, I complained that the course is hard, and that you had to recognise the difficulty of special relativity, and that this equation was my first attempt at solving a calculation in such a topic. And then, still in dream, I left the room and sat to in a car outside to sulk with my sister who was also in the car. When mother came along to inquire about the situation, we complained to her about her, that she always.... she never.... this that and the other.... And the car was in front of a estate agent's office in Mill Hill, and I realise, that that was where the couch in the sunlight must have been. I found myself walking about the town, in dream, and past various happy people, including an Indian woman, and past an ice cream parlour, and this and that, and the other. Then, soon, I was back outside the estate agent's office, where Corina (my sister) still occupied the car, and I noticed a time-travelling man appearing in different positions around the vicinity of the office, and pointed him out to Corina, saying, "Can you see the time-traveller?" Then, in any case, my sister and I had secretly installed an espionage system within the estate agents, which we monitored from the car, and found, explicitly, that we were being grassed up for doing so, by Chris Addison, who appeared in "The Thick Of It", that is a television show written by my man Armando. The phone was ringing, out of dream, and I was glad that I had something for which I should awake, and it was Katzy, facetiming me. 

After I spoke to Martin I phoned my girlfriend, who is called Tamsin, and we spoke, and I found out about her day, and her plans, and her habits of reading (at the moment it is the Harry Potter series), and then, in any case, we ceased communication, and went on with our day. That endeavour, for me, was to continue to catch up with friends, and I spent a good half an hour chatting by Whatsapp video call to another old friend of mine, Adam Young. His diatribe was based on the care which I should take in signing any contracts, with Channel Four, to do with a television series that might be made about my life, and based on the book about that, which I called The Chicken Shop Incident. He is most concerned that I am going to be fucked over, and I settled the discussion by outlining my full awareness that I am most certainly going to be fucked over, and it's a done deal, in short. We ceased communication, and I spent the rest of the day trying to continue my studies, interposed with bouts of communication with Martin, and a meal of fish fingers, chips and beans, and a walk to the convenience shop on Apex Corner, for lemonade and cat food. 

In the evening I spoke to my mother, and also my friend Charlie, and only one other thing of note, was the occurrence of a lengthy conversation with my little brother, Ryan Best. He was carving a spoon down the shed at number five, and I was speaking about the events of the past few weeks, which have been a great experience of illumination, which I must admit were most difficult, but also humorous and interesting, and which I would one day like to write about, if such an endeavour is possible. In any case, I love my little brother; our conversations may improve, now that I am not so completely and utterly stoned off my face on weed twelve or thirteen hours a day, since I quit that drug during a medication change that happened because the supplies of my last one had discontinued. 

This drug is much better. Amisulpiride. 

I was looking forward to this day, and I have gone over my time. But there it is, blog lovers. That's my entry for the day. I will see you in the next day. 

Love Dan


Permalink Add your comment
Share post

This blog might contain posts that are only visible to logged-in users, or where only logged-in users can comment. If you have an account on the system, please log in for full access.

Total visits to this blog: 13731