In the War Against the Machines Part 5 and a bit!

Monday 11:53 p.m.
                             There might be photies. What I hate is wasting time. I don't mind laughing and having a joke with the odd flatheid. I don't mind getting drunk and stoned so long as I don't do it so much that it makes me less happy. What I totally resent is the computeryness of the machines these days. So I buy a camera with the Poisonous. I want to point it and click, and that's all. I don't mind then handing it to a properly qualified camera technician to do the rest, but what I really don't like it being asked to do stuff. Like, I was in the shop with Poisonous and he said this, the cheapest for an idiot camera you could buy, took videos. I said I did not want to take videos. I want to spontaneously take snaps. Snap, snap. Poisonous says something like even biros take videos these days, or he should have said that. Anyway, they have a CD with the digital camera. And a cable. And instructions that say if you really want to know what this camera can do, go to the website and find out. I can't wait. Lets see if I can get some photies then. Here we go.

                        Hurrah!
                         This is the chaos I am living in at the moment. This could be a lovely flat. There are three big bedrooms, a big kitchen, a big living room, a bog, and only two folk living in it at the moment. Since last week, I've been going out to drink a cup of vile coffee in the vile coffee shop to get away from it. It's been almost impossible to live here since last April when the men came to stick the gable end back on. Then the decorating started. Why does the decorating have to last six months and still not be over? I do not know the answer to this question. All I know is that there is no room to swing a cat. Once the other person who lives here has died, almost everything you can see in these photies is going in the bin. There will be cushions. There will be lots of space to do tai chi sets. There will be no ugly plants. There will be no one else. Maybe some schoolgirls.
                        But what wonderful space there will be! Space is like mind except without awareness, but space allows things to be in it. This does not mean that you should fill the space until there is no space.
                        I'll have to leave here the day after tomorrow to go a live out of a bag in a place which is strangely enough much the same, a place were there is no room to do yoga, or yogic jumpings, or anything like that, except in this case, the space is largely filled with buckets for the dripping, dripping drippingness.
                        Oh well. It takes sixty seven steps to get up to this flat. Once you get here, you spend all your life moving crap from room to room. It says clinging and craving, and holding and grasping and never being able to let go. I tried to keep my room out of it, but you get bullied and now there is no room here either, no space, just someone else's anonymous shite filling everywhere. The auld maw is right. You'd be happier living in a tent, so you would!