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Stagnation - Too much floccinaucinihilipilification. Not enough supercalifragilisticexpial...

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November 1st, 2016


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11:41 pm - Stagnation
Anyone who knows anything about me knows I didn't like my mum. And for very good reasons. Some of which were detailed in the first remaining public entry of this journal. Though one of the reasons is how she managed to imprint herself on me to a degree. That makes me wince, when I catch myself doing/thinking/saying something she would have. Taint of manner.

So it's pretty horrible to realise that, to a larger degree, regardless of the reasons, I find I have been acting like her for a while now.

I started travelling to London on my own from my small home town in the Midlands when I was sixteen. I looked eleven and was small; not yet filled out or sprouted. But I went anyway. Alone. Over the next few years, whilst I couldn't afford to, and didn't have a passport, so couldn't go abroad, I did visit people I knew all over the country, usually on my own. From Brighton to Edinburgh.

I didn't hang out with other teenagers my own age, I was very isolated at home - as I am now - but I did do things; I made my own path. When things - the isolation, the routines I'd fallen into - got too much I MADE myself do something different; regardless of how scared I was. I changed the channel.

My mum spent most of her life from the age of my earliest teenage years sitting in front of the TV, smoking and complaining about everything on it. Whilst also being a monster; which was most of the time. She had lost any impetus within less than a decade of my dad dying and just simply stopped bothering with anything that was any effort at all. Including looking after herself or the house (even cleaning; I did basically everything from the age of twelve/thirteen). Including me.

I don't have a TV, not since 2003 when the dish was ditched. And I take care of myself as best I may - not always successfully - and I definitely take care of the space I live in; always have. But I don't do anything. I may spend a lot of time - too much - in front of my PC but, not being on Facebook and the more recent blipvert social media formats, that's usually actually working in one form or another. Not in terms of gainful employment, ho ho, but I do keep busy; if only to keep my skills up and my mind active. But I don't fucking DO ANYTHING.

I'm not agoraphobic but I find reasons not to bother going out if I've no-where specific to go (which is usually). I don't change the channel. And I had to think about that today. I'm scared, more so than when I was a lonely teenager. I'm not even sure entirely what of. When did I get scared?

It's as close to acting like my benighted mum as it's possible for me to get.

I absolutely hate this.


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{Stun Me With Your Cunning}


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