Alex Psmith

Sunday afternoon to dusk
Long dark teatime of the soul transitions

Free-range clowns

Since we have a surfeit of sunsets down here, I'll share another.

Good evening from Wollongong, everybody. I'm still ticking along, and feeling good.

Years ago I was on a date with someone, and they asked me what I do for fun.

I listed off a bunch of things I think are fun.

They paused, looked at me, and said, "Yeah, but, what do you do for ... fun?"

I spent about 2 hours exercising this morning and then excitedly dove into my work, which involves plenty of analytical thinking and even more writing. I was compelled to (jokingly) send proof via text message that I had, in fact, logged off and wasn't just hiding behind "offline." Because I genuinely enjoy my work.

After my evening bike ride, I plan on reading Gorky Park and going to bed by 9:30 p.m. so I can do it all again tomorrow. Weekends are spent exercising outside after the gym- mainly cycling, hiking, and bird watching- and then in the evening reading/writing. I have no social events on my calendar, and I don’t own a television. I don't eat at restaurants.

Maybe I don't know how to have fun.

Everybody, stop what you're doing and look at these penguins choosing colourful hand-painted pebbles for their mates 😭😭😭

https://youtu.be/fC-D-rLxyfw?si=LaEz1WyrSurU6kHh

I learned after my partner was killed that all the people I thought were close become more distant. Instead of people reaching out to be supportive, people were avoidant of the person who is sad and wanted a friend. I noticed it with each tragedy- my mum's suicide, my closest friends passing away suddenly and unexpectedly one after the other. And I noticed it again after the breast cancer diagnosis.

Death makes a lot of people uncomfortable, and feeling empathy makes a lot of people uncomfortable, and expressing sympathy or just being kind and supportive seems to make a lot of people feel uncomfortable. And a lot of people deal with that feeling by being distant or angry, even ghosting.

Society cares nothing for what we are or were or have been through, it cares only for what we can offer (AKA produce). This is a sort of intellectually pure capitalist notion that underpins a whole lot of social activity. This can be seen in our interpersonal relationships; people want stuff from us, and they want it irrespective of our history, bodily condition, mental state, degree of economic disadvantage, etc.

An important lesson that I finally learned is that these are their failings as friends and human beings, and not a reflection of my own worthlessness.

A flange of baboons started a war that they've openly lusted after for about half a century. Colour me unsurprised.

The people who were voted into office are at the apex of the Chump Kingdom, so what exactly were we expecting here?

"It's a funny thing about looking for things. If you hunt for a needle in a haystack you don't find it. If you don't give a darn whether you ever see the needle or not it runs into you the first time you lean against the stack."

Good morning from Wollongong, everybody.

Yesterday the train home broke in Helensburgh, about 35 km north of Wollongong in the middle of nowhere by a conservation area. There were no replacement buses, and the torrential rain was hammering the landscape sideways.

Everyone was busy arranging for people to pick them up, and there was one lone disabled elderly lady sitting on the cold wet bench. She was getting battered by the downpour, and everyone ignored her as they scrambled into warm dry cars. Not one person paid any attention to her or asked if she was OK and whether she needed a lift.

It took me an hour to find an Uber driver to accept my request, and I took her with me and instructed the driver to take her home.

I keep thinking about her sitting there on the bench, stranded in a storm with no way home and waiting for a bus that would never arrive, and everyone rushing past as though she were a ghost. And I kind of feel like that lady right now.

I don't want any absurd replies to this, either.

There are people who think Council building a new library is corruption of the highest order.

Morning, I guess.

Slept another 13 hours so arrived at the beach pretty late this morning. When I turn up during sunrise, I see a cute brown cocker spaniel, all smiles and wags. When I turn up after 10, it's smiling sea monster corpses.

I mean, what in the name of Lovecraft IS this? Blowfish skeleton? Spawn of Cthulhu?