Tired again, worn down by the Autistic world and it's strange currents, with all the control freaks, hungry for my guts and glory, power crazed managements, jumped up dictators, experts and paperwork, ahh meetings, the bane of my existence.
One strange thing did occur which was in the middle of our meeting, i was given a large piece of chocolate cake, rich beyond the wealth of Mayans, richer and creamer than any chocolate cake you can imagine, this was a cake that you did not eat, it ate you, it seduced you with it's shimmer elusive and inviting surface, it's sexy strands of extra dark chocolate coating its exterior sucking you into its dark void the curiosity of what lay beneath pulls you towards it, like an invisible strand around your neck, you're nose gets that first dangerous hit that can only lead to temptation, because before you know it you have taken the first bite of the apple and unconsciously the sequence has to complete itself, hidden layers, cake exploration, uncharted territories that lead to certain transitory satisfaction.
Later I zip over to Mike's and we work on a song together, he's made some electronic number but it's not going anywhere, i felt it's like an introduction, but a fucking good one. I think i can do something with it.
Then I have to meet my dear friends Sue and Simon, two people from the straight world who are just really sound, generous decent people. Unfortunately I am filled with hyper cake, and it's now disseminating itself through my body and brain, unused to such high quality sugars, i can't stop talking, i'm talking about non stop talking, they can't get a word in, it's just verbal mania, words moving through my skull, i think i'm freaking them out, stories about my travels, exerts from me past lives, confessions and strange revelations, comic routines, spiritual lessons, they get it all, in a mad chaotic blurt of information, ouderves, mostly undigestable.
i leave drive to Mike's and watch the tennis, a sport i have not watched since the days of Jimmy Conner, and it's a very good game, from Melbourne some Armenian from an eastern European country is playing a Swedish underdog who is absolutely amazing, the game is close, it's incredible and i am immersed in it till the Swedish chap looses, and still i need to read something, it's late now, perhaps 2 am, i have to be at work at 7am.
At work my colleague is asleep in the lounge, he's out cold so i leave him and do the rest of the stuff that needs to be done, it's a long day as i have to take people to banks, i hate banks, queues, questions, forms, parking, wheelchair's, screaming clients, cashiers and then back to base for a meeting with my boss where i have to offload my various frustrations and then home. Yes home, is where I like to rest my bones.
The cake is wearing off now, the sun is out, there's a nice breeze and I'm thinking about a walk.