So, Having Moved On…. 

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So, having moved on like an obedient Servant of the Gods, I am feeling relieved and slightly healthier.  Like after a good shit.

I was well on the way to being very healthy again, I know that, but the move and thing got me (gotta blame something) smoking a bit more heavily again.  I was doing well at the less of the death-stick and more of the fresh air and exercise thing, but when my enemies ‘start huffing’ I sometimes start puffing.  Furiously!

So once again settled, at least for a couple months while I figure things out, or the Gods show me a profitable path, I am discovering that leaving that familiar unfamiliar place where I was getting oh so comfortable has not been debilitating, but releasing.

Maybe I AM meant to be one of Life’s ‘hobos’ or something.  Maybe I really am on the God-given trail but not liking it too much, ’cause I want a home, enough money not to worry and a perfect partner to rub my back when it aches.

Thought I had the first one licked, what with being so settled back at that place; and was investigating all sorts of ideas that might have got me some money (if I could pull off at least one) and thinking of where to start looking about for a perfect partner.  Then the BOOM of the God’s and I am out on my ass.

I am therefore beginning to think I am an FOTG= Favourite Of The Gods.  [I have this propensity to look on/for the bright side.  Continuous shit like mine does not happen to just anyone.  I MUST be special.]

As an FOTG therefore, I am assed if I am actually going to put a lot of effort into figuring things out, and instead I am enjoying the fact that I am not physically or mentally homeless, I get to know a different place, and my breathing problems have disappeared despite the smoking.

Well, some of you know the Docs in Hackney couldn’t find a real cause and I blamed it on the zombies and other dead detritus that hang around that location.  Thankfully, as the wind blows and the seas flow, those that tried following or enlisting followers, have caught a cold and a boat to the goal of no release.

So, having moved on….a new chapter is beginning.

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Fidel Castro died yesterday at 90.  Not bad for a guy who either was as special as I am, or more insane than we realised.  Either way it proves  to me:  I might as well plod on in style as the Gods truly have the final say.  Not zombies, or death threats, or assassination attempts, or diseases, or ogres with clubs.  Like Castro, I gonna smoke (burn earth, burn rubber, burn tyres, or just plain burn!) ’til I gotta hang up my guns.

I off to find something or someone to cherish and relish and remember fondly.  Otherwise, what is the point of moving on?  In fact, otherwise, what is the point of Life?

You with me ye Gods?