Despite yesterday's weather forecast for today, there is no likelihood that I can see of there being even one short rain shower today.
I tried sitting outside in the backyard this afternoon to benefit from some sunshine ─ I tried twice ─ but the accursed neighbours behind us will not discipline their hound and its two lapdog brethren. The infuriating noise drove me back into the house both times, raging and profaning, and declaring the vilest fates to all concerned.
This is not only criminal. It is beyond my understanding why God forces me to continue to live under these conditions when they are breaking me. If only I had never married, at least I could be obligation-free to end myself and be done with all of this effing, pointless misery.
Some bloody Thanksgiving. All I have are blasphemous malignancies that are depleting me of any desire to ever exist not in just this life, but any Hereafter. More and more, I just want Eternal oblivion ─ permanent release.
I want so badly to get drunk, but I have one of my early a.m. walks planned ... provided I can handle one. Quite early last evening as I was studiously rising slowly to my feet from sitting (I have bad knees, so I tend to use concentrated, strict muscular control in rising ─ an often tediously extended process), I experienced intense burning alongside my inner left shin and just above my ankle.
It felt as if some greater blood vessel might have burst. And that was my suspicion then and overnight, although there was no visible discolouration nor any certain swelling.
I am now of the opinion that some longitudinal muscle or tendon stretching alongside my inner shin may have torn. The affected region stretches from my ankle for nearly the whole half of my lower shin. It is remarkably sore to the touch, so I have no idea what to expect in the a.m. once I embark upon my planned 5¾-mile hike at 2:15 a.m. or so.
It seems I never have enough debilities and afflictions to try to weather ─ something new is always periodically added. Yet another straw added to this poor, ageing camel's back.
After my younger brother was home from his daily socializing into the early latter evening yesterday, I put our Android TV Box into action and tuned in an episode of Sharp Objects. We have now seen the first two episodes.
I enjoy the series quite a lot ─ and Amy Adams is pretty darned alluring to this old-timer ─ but I wish that the series did not constantly keep playing scenarios from one time period of the character's younger life. We only ever see these different scenarios of her family life when she is always of a certain age, and never younger or older. It is as if she did not exist before, nor thereafter.
And it is made to seem as if these various scenes are actual ghostly happenings that Amy's character is reviewing throughout her every day, and the technique is so blatantly phoney.
I am going to have my 73rd birthday tomorrow, and I have an enormous number of past events that haunt me with guilt, or else which were such close calls that I wonder how it is that I am still here today. But I never replay things so vividly that I stop whatever I am doing as if I was transported back into the past and can only witness them happening all over again right before my very eyes.
This is a ridiculous theatrical tactic that I almost detest. It is amateur as far as I am concerned.
But at least I have Amy Adams to look at.
My brother and I next watched Lewis ─ both episodes of season nine's second storyline "Magnum Opus". Wikipedia says this within its description:
Three people are murdered, all members of a spiritual cult, the ‘Companions of Coinherence’. This group revived the ideas of Charles Williams, a member of the Inklings literary discussion group. ...
It gradually sank into my awareness that I actually own one or maybe two of Charles Lewis' books, and I have done so since the early 1970s as a gift from an American pen pal I had back then named (I believe) Jean Michelle Black.
Initially she lived in California (I want to say Alameda, but that may only be as a result of me confusing where she was later to live); but she was later to move to Altoona, Pennsylvania and through marriage became Jean Michelle Martin.
Or were those surnames reversed? It is so long ago.
I know that I have the book "War in Heaven" ─ and maybe "All Hallows' Eve". But I would have to dig them up to know for certain just what I have.
I never read any of them, incidentally. I have not read a book in possibly over 25 years, for my eyes have deteriorated far too much. Non-prescription glasses allow me to read for brief periods of time ─ maybe a page or two; but I could never bear reading page after page after page. The strain would be too much.
And I once loved books so much that ─ as a young man ─ I longed to own my own enormous private library far off in some secluded part of the world where I could immerse myself into scholastic studies, unbothered by the rest of Mankind. Bodybuilding and fitness was also a part of that dream.
I wish that I could contact Jean Black / Martin again, but I lost contact with her in 1976 or 1977 when my life became too tumultuous and unstable. I never even had my own place to live ─ I stayed with sympathetic relatives for a long while.
I also lost touch with some other people who were in my life in the earlier and mis-1970s, and whom I now also miss.
I must drop this topic. My frame of mind is not hale enough to keep digging into and dwelling upon that period of my life.
That storyline of Lewis had a guest supporting actress who had some vague familiarity to me, but I just chalked it up to her resembling someone else. Then at some point I thought that she resembled athletically-built Perdita Weeks of Magnum P.I. ─ an actress whom I deem to be exceptionally 'hot' to look at and visually enjoy.
And suddenly I recollected how I had noticed and remarked to my brother that one of the guest actors / actresses in the opening credits of Lewis had the unusual name Honeysuckle Weeks. It almost didn't seem possible that it could be genuine.
So then when I started to think that the supporting actress somewhat resembled Perdita Weeks, I realized that not only was the name Honeysuckle Weeks likely genuine, but that it must belong to her ─ she had to be related to Perdita Weeks!
And so I was to learn that they are sisters.
I love these discoveries.
Anyway, we finished off the evening's T.V. with an episode of United States of Tara ─ the first episode of season three.
This morning's T.V. was of course fare of a different sort. I led us off with a nearly 1¾-hour (1:42:23) October 6 upload to Rumble by Vaccine Choice Canada: VAXXED VS UNVAXXED: THE EVIDENCE with Dr. James Lyons-Weiler.
Navigating the scientific minefield and conflicts of interest to make the right decision for our children is challenging. Dr. James Lyons-Weiler joins Sherry Strong from Children’s Health Defense Canada to address this important decision.
Find Dr. James Lyons Weiler on substack: https://substack.com/profile/40349055-james-lyons-weiler
It was a good interview that even my brother seemed to enjoy ─ he asked me to pause it when he left to pick up his girlfriend Bev at 10 a.m. to drive her to work.
The next and last video I tuned in was 34 minutes (34:15) in duration: THE SEQUEL TO THE FALL OF THE CABAL - Part 14: Depopulation – the First 4 of 10 Extinction Tools.
The New World Order’s main focus is complete world dominance. Population control, better known as Depopulation, is the UN’s tool to annihilate the majority of the masses, so that no more than 500 million people are left on the face of the earth. A neat number, easy to control, dominate and subjugate. How are we, the people, being attacked in the name of population control? By means of 10 different Extinction Tools. Let’s take a look at the first 4: wars, (natural?) disasters, famine & drought, and plagues & diseases…
We are slowly progressing through this huge series.
Following this video, my brother sought some bed rest; I soon enough sought a nap and was rising just as I heard my brother leaving for the day to again 'socialize'.
I of course remained housebound as I struggled with my madness that is generated by all of the adversities encompassing me. It is hell to not drive, and be so financially limited that I am wholly reliant upon my family to 'meet my needs'.
All I seem to have is stress, stress, and further stress in every direction conceivable.
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