It’s too late now for those people, those ‘old friends’.

They have missed their chance, and should they stumble across me now, they would find me in a place they wouldn’t have expected me to be.

I have changed.

The truth is – I don’t know if I would want to see them again – Pearl.  And Dean.

These days, I might not be able to hold back that mountain of anger.

 

Oh, don’t mind me – I’m just chatting away, you know.

 

Who me?

Hey – I’m just getting started.

 

I’ve just watched the Chemical Brothers’ Glastonbury (2019) performance on the television catch-up – wow!

Check it out!

Don’t miss it!

If you are a naive person, it will help you be less naive!

Who was on when I was actually there – all those years ago?

I can’t remember.

They say if you can remember, you weren’t there.

I probably saw Keith Flint, but I wouldn’t remember.

 

I’m not worrying too much what I put here at the moment.

 

And now that I am so far, I need to see where to move from where I am now – nothing sudden – because I have known that this is deliberate – on their separate parts – Pearl.  And Dean – each of them – a deliberate keeping-away.

 

There is a potential path to Pearl.  And Dean – deep between those mountain ranges, but I – haven’t been able to take it, so far – I have felt that I haven’t the strength – and – I feel stronger now, but is that enough?

 

I need to be careful.

 

No.  I do not pursue, not one inch, people who have deliberately hidden themselves from me, got away from my view.

I am clearer now – this is about seeing, vision.

They, individually, don’t want to see them [sic].

And do I remain ‘cool’ and pretend it hasn’t affected me?

Pearl.  And Dean.

Disappeared as though off the face of the earth.

I’ve got to be fair, I suppose (it’s not raining) – they parted.

That makes it understandable, I tell myself – that they then backed off . . .

I have wondered – could it be this?  Could it be that?

Oh – I have bits and pieces of paper all over the place, with notes to myself on them, attempts at writing this:

‘I haven’t a clue what happened.  What am I supposed to do?  Make up answers for myself?’

‘Try to be understanding?  Try to make up stories for them that let them off?’

‘That they think they can treat me like that, and make excuses for themselves?  That I don’t matter – except that I do?’

The word ‘shoddy’ comes to mind.

Glastonbury has been on this past weekend.

If they are not dead, or hopelessly demented, they will know it has been on – and they must think of us – we went with them to Glastonbury once.

‘No.  I didn’t see much of it on the television – I’m musically inept – I try but I mostly don’t get it.’

I wrote that, but then I did see Liam Gallagher on ‘catch-up’ – and I know I have some problem with music – but you recognise masters of the genre – even I do – I haven’t lost music, I think (I knew it) – it was taken from me somehow – way back, way back . . .

Oh, I’m just slopping this on the page, now – get said what I can – but I’d thought I could make characters of these people – I can’t.

They are who they are, and I am not giving them the benefit of telling their stories for them – I’m not speculating – giving them answers; putting answers into their mouths.  That isn’t fair (it’s not raining).