LEGS ON WHEELS ' LABELLED-DISABLED'
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Part 3... Chapter 11...Falling Apart with Good Intentions...

24/7/2017

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Hi Pen, just a quick catch up with me, myself and I before I try to reach up as high as the heavens to dream of a better existence after the eleventh hour. Pointless saying a better life because life is what it is. A Bitch.

Existing, is my point here. We merely exist and the way we chose to exist around each other can make it easier to understand or harder to grasp awareness of our true self with life’s tests. It’s make or break. Life is a strange entity in the virtual sense, always devising the past, present and future, making us all slaves to its rhythm.

I’ve had enough of the whole ‘creation of life’ being real. It’s a game. We can choose what piece we play on the chess board. Surely?
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My home life is going back to what it was becoming before the accident. I didn’t know what was happening to it then and neither do I know what is happening to it now. Although a stirring of feelings is building up and I’m quite sure it’s not going to change. This relationship must end.

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I want him to start talking his truth with real meaning, I wish he would but I know he won’t. I don’t know why or what’s going on in his mind. I’m pretty sure he’s not sure what’s going on in my mine either, but I know we are not strong together.

What are we united in. What??...

It’s not love.

Is it staying together subconsciously by the hold of an accident neither of us remember being a part of?

Is it unanswered questions creating a sticky bond? Held loosely together by a void which feeds the consequence of feeling the need to stay together.

Nothing else is sticking this love side by side. It’s like the end of our world. The apocalypse of Her & Him. The beginning of the end has started and I don’t want to cry.

I know he doesn’t want to be with me. I felt it and could see it in his eyes when we were toasting a plastic glass of champagne to a plastic future. Under the roof of the round house on Rookwood Hospital grounds.
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I gave him the choice to leave then. Set himself free. Not to stay because I was paralysed.
He stayed and said he would never leave. I felt then as I know now he doesn’t want to stay. I know looking back  it was a test to see if he would stay and for how long.

​There is only so much a couple can talk about regarding their love and their wanting to be together. If the feelings are there then the conversation of doubt doesn’t need to take place. I have let my partner know, I too am feeling his pain, his suffering, his torment but most of all his distress. I too am feeling lost and in desolation.
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He’s lasted longer than I thought he would whatever his reasons be. I’ve stayed with him this long because I’ve needed his help. I haven’t been sure about my love for him on numerous occasions, although I am now 100% sure. I don’t love him and as much as I do need him, I can do it without him...

A lot of people I have called friends and who I have been a fuking good friend too. Seem to have forgotten my mobile and front door number. They are slowly disappearing from the face of the earth.
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With the way I’m starting to feel now regarding all mortals, I am hoping they are falling into the fire pits of hell. Where I shall sit awaiting in my chariot on a lava rock, smoking a joint with one hand and swigging JD with the other. Sparkling glee in my one eye as I watch their pitiful souls turn to black coals. To be crushed by my wheels to ash, one by one…

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​Life is a fuking misery with everything revolving around it. I have no idea what my life has install for me apart from sitting in a fuking wheelchair.
Crowley’s is doing ok. It’s still paying its way. I do miss being there so much. I should be there. 

It's paying for Fuk Face to have half of his teeth re-built with titanium. At a cost to me falling just under £1000. Why am I paying for his teeth when I pay him a wage? Well, I don't really know why. I offered and found him a Polish dentist, with the help of my Polish friend and it was cheaper than anyone else. Still doesn't explain why I said I'll pay. Maybe it's to help us both feel better?... 

I’m not having a wonderful time in life. I feel all I have to keep me sane and on the right tracks for thinking, is my daughter and our pet Rottweiler.

I love my Dog. We had to introduced a new member to the family . I can’t resist a Rottie. 
I think of my last one quite often. He was an awesome, powerful but gentle beauty. Our protector.

R.I.P Our Rottie Osso and our Cats (right to left) Mum, Magick and Cleo
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He would gently gnaw away on my arm at times. He’d hold my arm not so much with his paws but rather in his paws. With deep rumbling growls sounding more like he was about to rip it off. Both of us totally submissive as I watch TV rubbed his tummy.

So gentle were his powerful jaws as he tenderly with consideration I may add, pinched and squeezed his teeth into my cushion soft skin before bouncing straight off to another part.
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He would allow my daughter to sit on his back for the last stretch home from school. He would sit and guard the shopping in mumbles while I darted into this shop and that. He always walked at my side in front of me by a margin. He was truly beautiful. We would trust him with our lives. 

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​Stolen from me he was. By a family of good for nothing, lying, cheating, thieving, benefit sponging bastards. If you needed anything, go and ask Fat Fuk, the husband, Mutton dressed as Lamb the wife, and their son the Rapist. A Jim Morriston lookalikie always thinking he held the Ace of Spades in his top pocket.

With a family member who bred dogs for a living and another member (apparently) in the police department, it was a no-win situation for me and my dog. I never got him back and never found out where or what had happened to him. Sad times.

These people enjoyed life and living life by making money from another people’s loss that they set the stage for.

Even after 20 years, just remembering that time brings back anger and resentment to that family.

Anyway a few years later my wonderful, amazing and mental staff came along, beautiful dogs Staffordshire Bull Terriers. Five years into our life together my work life became too busy to give him 100% doggy love. So, with great sadness he was re-homed to a good family
the night before my accident.


​Me being squashed by the new member of the family, Otto our Rottie

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I have always thought that if he was still with me, would he have had any evidence on him in conjunction with what happened on the 16th July. Someone’s hair perhaps or fibres from their clothes, even blood.

I love all animals, cats are free to roam and are totally independent. But dogs, they need the time and patience from the right owner to get them socializing and their behaviour established right from the moment they are taken home. It’s all love and bounce from there on.
​That’s why it was right to introduce a new member to my new life as a paraplegic.

I have visions of him harnessed up to the max, looking like a dog ready for a Roman war pulling me in my chariot chair along the prom in all weathers. It’s going to be fun. I can feel it in my blood already. I’m training him as well as I can from a chair, it’s difficult but he’s getting there slowly and it would be faster if help was given when I ask.

Well, it would help if my partner would keep his side of the deal and take him on regular walks. Obviously, there is only so much I can do, and what I do, do, is train the dog. I train him well but with limited walking and exercising the dog becomes harder to train. Giving doggy treats can only last for so long for obedience with rewards.

My man keeps saying, ‘Yes, I’ll take him out… Yes, I’ll pick up the dog shite… Yes I’ll’…
After he’s done whatever it is he is doing on the computer at the time of asking. The time of minutes ticks over to hours and before we know it gone into days.
Then it’s too dark, wet and miserable outside now winter has set in, for my lazy son of a bitch partner to be bothered to breath never mind help me with the dog.

Christmas will be upon us again in a few weeks. Oh, what to do, what to do? Shall we eat out this year or have family time cooking dinner together, larking about with a Christmas hat on, getting pissed. I hold my breath. Who knows. At this moment in time I just want it over and done with….
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It's time to say goodnight, sweet dreams and lets see where we pick up next time we meet. My trusted friend Pen... Zzzzz
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