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  • beulah888 3:18 PM on February 1, 2017 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , home, , , Weather, Wind,   

    A New Wind Is Blowing 

    A New Chapter has begun.  It began with me moving on.  Now, even more settled into my new life in this part of the world, away from cold and ‘dark’, I feel a ‘New Wind’ blowing.

    A New Wind is blowing.  It is a cleansing, friendly, comforting wind.  It is a sweet, scented wind.  It is more than a breeze but not blustery.  It is gentle, sure, refreshing, and uplifting.  This augurs well for this new chapter.

    The prelude done, the wind blows…blows and blows and blows and blows….away… the cobwebs…

    dscn0083

    the unnatural darkness…the gloom.  The clouds disperse.

     
  • beulah888 5:35 AM on November 26, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , blogger, , , home, , , philosophical, ,   

    So, Having Moved On…. 

    dscn0415

    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.

    dscn0417

    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?

     
  • beulah888 6:47 AM on October 29, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , home, , ,   

    Sling Your Hook 

    Well, it’s time again. It seems I “gotta go”. Why, dear Gods, are you having people chuck stuff at me, chuck me out, and generally pissing on my parade. Enough!

    Not only was I comfortable, well mostly anyway, where I was, I was beginning to get some things sorted out. Then, BOOM. Along comes an Ogre with his club, and starts demanding I go. Go where now, O ye gods? Really, what have I done to offend you all in such a way that you wish to keep me like a Rolling Stone. Yep, I know the saying: “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” But is moss such a bad thing? What should one gather? Memories and thoughts alone?! What about a little nest egg? Um? And, oh yeah, if I manage that (somehow) ye Gods then make me use it up in moving on AGAIN.
    I am a HOBO!!! Not scruffy and degenerate,…. or is that it? I have not become scruffy and degenerate so you keep pushing and pulling and shoving and bellowing in the hope, in the EXPECTATION that that is how I shall be?! Dear God! No, no real god could want that for me, cause no real God could be that unkind; well not at this point or hereafter, considering ALL you have already put me through. So WHY/

    I fervently pray that this has something to do with rewarding me for being such a god sport in taking all the shit that has been thrown at me all the years. You must have had your fill. Belly laughs and OOhs and Aws at the dickens of a life’s journey you assigned me. Well, Gods, show your mettle and worth and upturn the apple cart. Show that, you give a shit about ME now and give me the promised Justice and repose. Otherwise, “sling your hook”!

    Mercy.

    dscn0656

     
  • beulah888 3:22 PM on August 29, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: emails, frustrations, home, internet, peeves, Technology, vexation   

    Trying to organize my email. What do you do when you cannot remember your password, and cannot get a verification code because you have changed phones and cannot remember the password for your backup email address?

     
  • beulah888 3:23 AM on August 2, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: destiny, fate, , home, humanities, , ,   

    Here I Am 

    20160224_125208

    So Far So GOOD

    Well it is finished, it is over, and here I am.

    Seven months since I posted It Is Done and I am done with London.  Particularly I am done with Hackney.  I have absconded.  Gone AWOL.  Done a bunker.  Flown the coop.  Never to return.  Thank God.

    Thanks to the Gods too, and Life’s Controller, that the relief, the peace, nay the feeling of freedom, is profound and very real.  I have rested.  I am rested and getting fat.  O.K. the getting fat bit must be addressed, I must do some Zumba or something; but the rest relief and peace must continue.  Nay, but happiness must follow.

    The Zombies tried to follow but they got tripped and confused by the geography (zombies have no BRAINS and cannot understand Human life or “time travel” or mere normal movement).  They tried and got combusted in attempting to ‘travel through time’.  It is beyond their scope to comprehend that then is not now and that London is not where I am at.   So yeah, peace.

    Mind you, while getting lost in Transit, they tried to enlist and/or bully others such as they into continuing the detrititious (is that a word?) behaviour towards me.  How foolish was that?  They knew nothing of the place and nothing of the ORIGIN or ownership of the other zombies, nor indeed did not know that this type would rather zonk them than do me harm.  Well, at least not at their say so.  Ergo, they got zapped and wapped, and then frizzled and fried by their namesakes, and spontaneously combusted trying to enter the ‘real world’.  For you  see, they cannot SEE.   Me now, I knew it was merely a matter of time until they disintegrated &c.,  so I remained at peace and let them ‘self-destruct’.

    So where am I now? I shall not say.  Suffice it TO say, I still have not changed and I am still me.  My family will attest to that.

    My life’s journey continues.

    All of Life’s journeys are like Marathons:  In some places breezy, in some testing, in yet others seemingly beyond you.  Yet there are always water-stations scattered along the way; and for those who have the stamina, there is the joy, the satisfaction, nay the sense of accomplishment and, yes, pride in knowing that you did not quit, did not succomb to the terrain or climate, did not drop dead in shame but continued to the end…and crossed the finish line.

    I am reminded of that saying:  “The race is not for the swift but for those who endure to the end.”

    You see, life’s journey is the greatest most superior race of all, and to finish it with aplomb, yea even with style, is all that I ask of myself….and of you.

    Safe journey.

     
  • beulah888 1:15 AM on March 13, 2015 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , home, home key, ,   

    Home Key 

    Hit the Home Key and we are right at the beginning. Back at the top of the page. Right back where it all began.
    Appropiately.

    image

    Home is where it all begins.  Home is where all our recorded life on Earth starts..

    When we reach the end of the book, a volume, the volume, of our life, we close it and hit the home key.

    Close the book. Hit the home key – i.e. Turn the book over and look at the cover again, perhaps with a hand on the cover, a finger tracing the letters of the inscription or title, or the pictorial design; and ponder all you have read.
    All you have done as recorded in that book or volume. Was it a good read?

    Either way it is set in stone and cannot be altered. All that is left to be done is to put it down and, if it isn’t the last book or final volume allowed you, begin the recording of the next. Hopefully it will be better, more interesting cheerful instructive and full of love.

    Hit the Home Key when we have come full square. There is nothing else we can do.

    image

    “From the cradle to the grave” we have to know when to hit the Home Key.

    If we hesitate, if we falter, we may end up in limbo- in a no man’s land- a state worse than dead.

     
  • beulah888 6:24 AM on April 22, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , environs, , , home, Moving Home, , Photography, , Thoughts,   

    AT Home 

     

    Dalston

    Hackney

    Queensbridge Road

    Regents Canal

    London Fields……………….

    These areas surround me, making up not my ‘home’, but my Home’s environs.    Not my ‘walls’ by my Walls’ environs

     

    000_1056  000_1058 000_1076

     

    000_1057000_1063

     

    Dalston Kingsland

    to

    Stamford Hill

    Shoreditch

    Old Street

    Mare Street

    Hackney Road

    000_1075

    000_1014000_1034

     

    000_1047

    Hackney Central

    Cambridge Heath Road

    to

    Bethnal Green……..

     

    000_1038 000_1046000_1036

    No matter where

     

    They are not my environment, the thing which makes me whole;

    Not my estate – my place of being

    Nor that which sustains me

    But rather

    My inner self

    My family

    Those and that which is dear to me

    That which

    if I pluck up

    and take with me

    wherever I go…

    I will still be

    At Home.

    000_1012

     
  • beulah888 6:01 AM on April 8, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Einaudi, home, , , , Poem, Spring, Spring Cleaning,   

    Spring —– Cleaning 

     

     

    spring bird

    Spring 
    Cleaning  all the Air
    From my Brain 
    And Nos-trilllll-s
    Spring
    Cleaning all the Airs
    From my Nose
    And and Tender–ills
    Spring
    Cleaning
    With a Brush
    Unweaving my Hair

     

     

     

     

     
  • beulah888 8:01 AM on January 15, 2014 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Benefits Street, Channel 4, Clegg, , Cradle of Filth, Darkness, Escape, Filth, , home, , , TV, Workfare   

    Escape? There Is No Escape 


    Play Chess Online!

    There is no escape.   Hackney sucks the soul and then does not know what to do with it.

    It is worse than Benefits Street, it is Benefits Borough.

    Go on holiday to the world of freedom and niceties and genuinely pleasant people and then return to Hackney and slit your throat.

    Darkness-into-Light-300x200

    The Darkness overwhelms me

    It cannot penetrate  me

    It cannot overcome me

    As I am blessed

    With foresight.

    foresight

    The Darkness that is Hackney and its hack-need people overwhelms me with its hatred of all that is genuine or good about life  while  at the same time appearing to embrace it in new buildings and developments.  As if new buildings or developments  can erase the filth of  minds.

    Refurbish the council flats and make them fit for humans but keep the piglets and cows in them!  How sensible is that?

    Still filth of minds and filth of stairwells and overflowing garbage which tenants refuse to bag.

    Still making out on the stairs, selling dope, sniffing coke, droppings of dog shit in the corridors; while they smash the potted plants and move the mats from outside your door.

    Filth.

    cradle of filth

    Filth

    No escaping it.  Clean the housing  units, but still garbage as occupiers and tenants.  Help!!

    The building and fixtures are worth more than those less-than-humans using them.   Chuck them all in the Regents Canal, and save the buildings from further abuse by these unhouseable scum.

    Escape?  There is no escaping the fact that they escape workfare while the ‘softies’ get pressed into voluntary work.   There is no escaping the fact that Cameron and Clegg (et al?) have more in common with these than with the ordinary real person.  They themselves have a benefits mentality even if they are ‘politicians’ or ‘elite’.  They belong in Benefits Borough.  Scroungers all.  Living off the state of others.

    My homeaffairs are in order.   My Home is at peace.

    If only it was in a decent neighbourhood.   Maybe I need to escape Benefits Borough.  First I have to get off Benefits Street.

    See you on TV.

    Benefits-Street-2997886

    There Is No Escape

     
  • beulah888 9:57 AM on December 4, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Bathroom, Bog, , home, , Loo, , Poetry, Poo, Shampoo Shave And A Shower, , Shite, Toilet,   

    I Shite At Nite…..My Shite…In Hackney 

    I Shite At Nite

    This is mine.  This page, Shampoo Shave And A Shower, is part of my grand WordPress blog. And “I Shite At Night” is just part of it.

    I love myself dearly.  I am not full of shit as those Hackney mad people and zombies are.  I have a life and a beautiful one at that.

    So this blog being homeaffairsdotme, must include the toilette, toilet, bathroom, boudoir and bed.  Not to mention the kitchen which is not the heart but the soul of any home.

    I shite at night because it is my right to shite

    Don’t tell me I must shite in the day, just because you say

    It is the  normal thing to do

    What is normal for you is not right to me

    What is right is normal is right, you see

    And to shite in the day, because you are scared

    Is no reason for me to fear –  you.

    I shite when I feel like

    And that is at nite

    When Nature naturally calls

    You shit out of fear

    Of the dark and the drear

    Of your deadend dead-end state

    And because all of you do it

    Shit I mean,

    That’s no reason for me to share

    Your guilt your pain your sorrow or your air

    For mine, my state

    My ‘homeaffairs’

    Are in order

    Hence my shite

    Though it is done at night

    Is a sweet-smelling odour

    Of natural shit.

                             Goodnight.Shits

     
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