After I retired from work, one particular individual had heard that I’d died.
Some people over egg the gossip to get a reaction. Do they really care about me? Do I care? So many people have been drawn into the world of the soap opera then they become desperate to direct their own lives into some form of over familiar over complicated nest of writhing vipers. I suppose it makes own brand cheap instant coffee more interesting.
What did Oscar Wilde say? “Reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.”
Thanks guys & gals. Glad to read there is some sense out there.
When I see folks, I announce I’m still alive. It’s normal to hear so much crap from jealous folks. For some reason, they seem to think I want to be disabled. It’s obvious what they want. Anything they are too dumb to imagine. I seem to be bombarded with, I have kids, I’m married, got a house & a car. I’ve just been to the moon, on a Virgin shuttle. And…
I’ve set my PA up to make some noise. Just so the idiots know I’m still creating. It bugs them.
I’ve composed a piece of magic, but they will never get in my world.
It’s quite a sorrowful place, I’ve never been able to escape from. We shall see, in the day, a way. I can legally drown out the gossip & wining. It drags me down.
When I go to Wedgewood lake at 7 am. It’s so peaceful, hearing the grass hoppers. Drinking my cheap coffee liqueur. Soaking my bare feet in the cold water. I may even climb a tree, to place a condenser microphone with nature, to add some ambience. The sounds will be heard.
Making a noise nuisance will only bring more trouble to your door. Try some relaxation music in ear phones instead. Lie back, close your eyes, think about that peaceful lake.